On Intentionality and Synchronicity

 

  

"What do you want to do after your run?" I asked Ruth Anne when she called me during the cool down portion of her 4 Mile Race Pace intervals training run.

"Well it's too nice to go stretch in the pool as we planned. How about the beach? Or maybe breakfast out? No let's have breakfast and debated whether to 'hang out' at home or get some vitamin sea. We know how short summers are in New England so decided to head to the beach.

While I was fixing breakfast, I announced to Ruth Anne and Tom: It's a great day to have a great day. I am setting my intention for 1. Tom you are getting your offer letter today for full time employment. 2. Ruth Anne there's gonna be a lot happening with your fundraising campaign today and 3. Something is going to happen with your job finding journey. I felt so happy knowing that all of this would come to pass and so grateful for all of the blessings in our lives.

Tom called me over after I  set this intention and showed me his offer letter!

He got busy taking care of the onboarding process and transitioning from contract work to perm employee at the job where he has been for 8 months with great people doing what he loves.

Intention #1 - check!

Ruth Anne and I had to decide where to go to the beach. When I got to South Boston I said, "okay, where to?" and we opted for this small stretch of beach between M Street and Castle Island. There was one woman playing with her two dogs in the ocean but there was no one else on the beach on this end of summer sizzling hot day.

I read a wonderful fiction book, "Nora Goes Off Script" and what a delicious treat to have time to go off line and just veg with a good read. Ruth Anne spread out her beach towel and took a nap. Getting up at 6am and doing Half Marathon training and fundraising is exhausting. 

We went for a walk to the water but there were too many rocks between us and the water. We wondered about going to another beach where we'd be able to wade into the water.

"It's so peaceful here and there's no one here so why don't we just stay?"

I agreed with Ruth Anne.

We sat and chatted noticing it was getting close to lunch time. Tom said we should go out for a girls' lunch and go back to the beach but Ruth Anne and I didn't feel quite right doing that.

"Let's text dad and tell him we'll bring home lunch."

We saw two men coming close to shore in a kayak. One of them let out a squeal of delight as he dove into the ocean off of the kayak shouting, "I highly recommend it."

They brought the kayak to shore. As we walked to our car we heard, 'Behind you.' 

In retrospect that was odd because there was a wide stretch of beach without anyone else on the beach but there they were right behind us.

I looked down at the kayak. 

"We went out to Spectacle Island."

"Wow," I said.

"It's really beautiful out there. You should go!"

"I've been," I said. "I did my first trail race out there. I'd never done a trail race before."

The other person said from behind their vehicle, "I did that race."

 "He looks and sounds familiar. Do we know him?" Ruth Anne asked me. "I think I heard him call him Paul."

I agreed that he looked and sounded so familiar.

"I know. He really does."

Without thinking or missing a beat I said, "Excuse me. Is your friend's name Paul?"

"That's my son," he said, "and yes his name is Paul."

"Paul Epstein," Ruth Anne shouted. 

"Yes, from BHS," his dad said. "Go say hello."

"Hi Paul, It's Ruth Anne McManus." She took off her sunglasses and he said, "Oh my goodness I didn't recognize you with the sunglasses on." He embraced her in a big hug. 

"I used to come into your office all the time asking for Red Sox tickets." Paul is a social worker at Brookline High School. His brother Theo Epstein was the manager of the Red Sox when they won the pennant. 

"Did I come through?" Paul asked.

"No." Ruth Anne answered.

"Well..it's never too late," Paul said with a warm smile.

I nudged Ruth Anne but she was way ahead of me telling him about her fundraising campaign. She shared her health crisis journey with him. His compassion was palpable as he told her to send him an email with all of the information and he will do whatever he can to support her events. I cried as she recounted the journey feeling so blessed and grateful that we are here now. He said, "So that's why you want to pay it forward and help others."

As we parted ways he said, "So I am going to look for that email from you! Take care."

I received an email from a friend saying that she was delighted to hear from me and would absolutely support Ruth Anne's fundraiser for Victory Programs. There was a friend's Facebook post about the number of deaths due to overdose in Massachusetts during the last decade. I used it as a way to talk about the life saving work of Victory Programs and share the fundraising link. Another donation flowed in with many more to follow to be sure.

Fundraising intention - check!

Now this last intention took a very interesting turn orchestrated by the Universe. Ruth Anne has been discerning what next steps she wants to take in this next season of her life. She has worked in different roles and explored many different options. She feels a strong pull to being able to make a difference in people's lives and while she is doing so in a big way with her fundraising campaign for Victory Programs, she wants to have a direct impact in people's lives. She interviewed for one role and knew she could grow into the role but continued to have this sense that she needs a boost with more education. She has looked at many different programs and took two courses at the Masters Level at Boston College in Leadership and Administration. She loves learning! Just as we came to the conclusion that there was not a program out there that would not require her to take out more student loans, especially since there is going to be debt relief for her current loans or one that would bring her a good ROI, she found a Certificate in Human Services program at Mass Bay Community College. The people she spoke with were kind and helpful guiding her to what she needs to do to start classes next week. 

Intention for job finding journey - check!

Yesterday was a magical and miraculous day. When I woke up this morning, the gratitude in my heart overflowed with tears streaming down my face and stress releasing from my body.

From my heart to yours,
In health and wellness,
Mary

Be sure to visit my website at https://marymcmanus.com to learn about my journey to health and wellness in the wake of paralytic polio and trauma

Visit the News and Events tab to listen to my inspiring and uplifting interviews

My books to motivate, uplift and inspire you are available on Amazon

Trust the Wait

Embracing uncertainty was never a strong suit of mine. Growing up in a household rife with alcohol and drug abuse, uncertainty was a threat to my very survival. Yet, after the diagnosis of Post-Polio Syndrome in December of 2006, I learned that uncertainty, hope, faith and possibilities can bring great joy to this amazing journey we call life.

As I share my journey in different interviews, I reflect on how I 'took a leap of faith leaving behind my award winning VA social work career to heal my life.' At the time I truly had no idea what it meant. I kept a 30 day journal visualizing 'A Day in the Life' after I left the only career I had known for 25 years. I fancied myself being on Oprah sharing my childhood trauma and how poetry helped me to heal my life. I imagined being a NY Times Bestselling Author. I drew from experiences that were known to me and that I valued as a measure of success.

After I left the VA, I began to enjoy the beauty of becoming often using the analogy of a butterfly emerging from the cocoon. 

I had written the poem, "Running the Race" not knowing that it would foreshadow my 2009 Boston Marathon run although, as Carl Jung says, the unconscious prepares the way for the future. I am not a NY Times Bestselling Author - yet but when I receive feedback about how my poetry and journey bless the lives of others, I feel as though I am a bestselling author. I've been blessed to receive critical acclaim for my books.

The pandemic was the ultimate time for the entire world to trust the wait. We were in our 'bubbles' and had to ride the waves of uncertainty as I write about in my soon to be released, "Into the Light: Emerging From the 2020 Pandemic."

Last year, Tom took a leap of faith retiring from his tenure as a Systems Administrator at Boston College. We knew it was time for a chance (I meant to write change but chance fits). He thought he was going to get a little retirement job somewhere but realized he still had a lot of life left in him working in technology. He signed on doing contract work. We had never even considered that he would be offered a full time position after doing contract work for 8 months with one organization. When he left BC, nothing was certain except we had Medicare, a retirement savings and social security, and most importantly our faith that everything would work out.

Embracing the uncertainty, rather than trying to control outcomes (which as a trauma survivor was vital to my survival) allows for the expansion of life and the opportunity for the Universe to open the doors to all possibilities!

From my heart to yours,
In health and wellness,
Mary

Be sure to visit my website at https://marymcmanus.com to learn about my journey to health and wellness in the wake of paralytic polio and trauma

Visit the News and Events tab to listen to my inspiring and uplifting interviews

My books to motivate, uplift and inspire you are available on Amazon

A Penny From Heaven

Yesterday after breakfast, I looked down on the dining room floor. There was a penny! I've found pennies and other change on runs before and during the pandemic, found a nickel on the mattress but I have never found a penny in the middle of the floor. Earlier this week, a Facebook memory popped up about Joe Stetz who was my swimming camp counselor at Badger Day Camp:

He is on the far left with dark hair, the warmest smile you could ever imagine and soulful brown eyes.

There was a notification on Facebook from the Badger Day Camp page saying they would be going live yesterday for the end of camp show. I felt goosebumps as I saw the photo of the Olympic size pool where I competed in the end of camp Olympics and smiled with tears in my eyes as the campers rocked out to different songs. I remembered that I was once part of this incredible community where I met a man who instilled in me the heart of a champion and helping me to believe I could achieve anything.

The penny was dated 2008; the year I started training to run the 2009 Boston Marathon!

Joe was my swimming counselor when I attended Badger Day Camp. When I was 10 years old, after two failed camp experiences, my physiatrist who was helping me recover from polio, suggested I go to Badger Day Camp because they focused on swimming and opened their hearts to all abilities. Joe was on track to become a competitor in the 1964 Olympics in the Butterfly but instead he chose to become a physician.

There were only 2 other campers competing in the end of Camp Olympics in the butterfly and Joe, with his soulful brown eyes told me that I needed to be the third competitor. I was guaranteed a place on the medal stand. I couldn't believe that he wanted me to compete. I told him all of my fears while not revealing what was happening in my home life enduring sexual abuse at the hands of my father, but focusing on the effects of paralytic polio. He told me he would work with me one on one to conquer my fears. After I came in third place, long after the other two swimmers finished their races, he lovingly extended a hand to me to help me out of the pool. He walked with me to the medal stand where I received a bronze plaque for 3rd place. He believed in me as a father would and nourished my abilities. I drew from what he taught me after the diagnosis of Post-Polio Syndrome when I decided to run the 2009 Boston Marathon despite all the odds. His last day of camp hug left a lasting imprint on my heart and soul. We wrote letters back and forth to each other while he was in med school. Life went on until I discovered his Death Notice in the Boston Globe in December of 2004. 

I did a google search to learn more about the incredible life of the man who helped me navigate the turbulent waters of my childhood.  I was stunned to discover that we worked at St. Elizabeth's Medical Center at the same time when I worked as a social worker on the inpatient geriatric psychiatric unit. 

From the Special Forces Association Tribute:

In 1971, Dr. Joseph J. Stetz, Jr.  was drafted by the Army as part of the Berry Plan, which utilized young physicians and surgeons who had just completed residencies. Captain (Dr) Stetz was stationed in Okinawa, Japan, and his two daughters were born there in 1972 and 1973.  He completed a Basic Airborne Course conducted in Okinawa.  In 1973, he returned to the United States and was stationed at Cutler Army Hospital, Fort Devens, MA.  After completing his Active Duty obligation, Major Stetz joined the RI Army National Guard (that desperately needed doctors) on one condition: he would be attached to Special Forces.  Joe attended weekend training assemblies and Annual Training with SF in addition to fulfilling the requirements of RIARNG State Surgeon.  Joe also became qualified as a Flight Surgeon.  He would quietly remain in the background during SF operations.  However, when SF soldiers were injured, he would immediately come to their aid.  Joe would accompany them to the ER and take charge of their care.  Colonel (Dr) Joseph J. Stetz, Jr. retired after 30 years of service.  Joe was a Charter Member (D3819) of Chapter 48, SFA.

From the Boston Globe Obituary:

Dr. Joseph J. Stetz Jr. of Lexington, who picked medical school over a chance to compete in the Olympic swimming trials, was a man of few words except when it came to medicine.  The former surgeon, who wore cowboy boots and was known to give hugs to patients, died Saturday at Boston Medical Center at age 62. He died 12 hours after he was in a single-car accident in Lexington. A family member said he died after his blood pressure dropped.

"He was an old-school doctor who didn't mind giving patients a much-needed hug," said Bernadette Trenholm, Dr. Stetz's personal administrator and close friend. "Appointments were always as long as they needed to be with him. If the patients needed two hours, Dr. Stetz would give them two hours."  Dr. Stetz was a cardiothoracic surgeon at St. Elizabeth's Medical Center in Brighton for two decades until his retirement in October.

Dr. Stetz grew up in Manhattan and spent a lot of time swimming; his father was a swim coach. Dr. Stetz swam competitively at Harvard University and qualified for the 1964 Summer Olympic trials while a student. But Dr. Stetz, a butterfly specialist, faced tremendous family pressure to go to medical school and chose medicine over an Olympic bid. He received his medical degree from the SUNY Health Science Center at Brooklyn in 1968. In 1967 he married Estelle Manetas.  He spent many Thanksgivings and holidays working. "He had no problem staying up till 2 a.m. at the patient's bedside," Trenholm said. "There were times that he would perform three open heart surgeries a day, and up to 600 a year."

Medical textbooks and magazines took up a great deal of space in his Lexington home. "He was an avid reader," his daughter Jessica said. "He kept every magazine, every book, and every article."  Jessica, of Brooklyn, works in emergency medicine at SUNY Health Science Center at Brooklyn, her father's alma mater.  "He was extremely dedicated to his work and had a huge desire to always read and learn more," Jessica said. "Medicine is something we bonded over."

Dr. Stetz's other daughter, Rebecca of Oxford, England, has a doctorate in chemistry and works at Oxford University.Dr. Stetz was interested in the outdoors. He had a Stetson hat and several pairs of cowboy boots. He loved riding Sassy, his horse of 15 years, and dreamed of moving to Montana, his daughter Jessica said. Until recently, Dr. Stetz rode his horse several times a week. In addition to his daughters and former wife, Dr. Stetz leaves a granddaughter, Julia."

Fast forward to the starting line of the 2017 Bermuda 10K. I was waiting for Tom to begin his race. As spectators often do, we struck up a conversation. She was a nurse who was scoping out the race as part of a medical preparedness team.

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"We live not far from Boston," she replied.

 "Oh interesting. May I ask where you work?" (I have no idea why I asked her that question!)

 "I work at St. Elizabeth's."

 My breath caught. She mentioned she'd been there for many years.

"By any chance did you know Dr. Joe Stetz?" I  inquired.

"I sure did!," and she went on to ask me about how I knew him.

We shared stories and our eyes filled with tears. She told me that Joe injured his hand changing the oil in his car and was devastated that he could no longer practice surgery. She shared that he was looking forward to retirement having time to read books, enjoy his grandchild and ride horses. The gun went off and we went our separate ways but not before I felt goosebumps from head to toe remembering Joe.

I know Joe sent me that penny yesterday to remind me of how one person can make such a difference in the lives of another through kindness, compassion and sharing their talents and treasures. He wanted me to share the story with each of you so that if you have the opportunity to make a difference in someone's life - do it! And if someone has touched your life, reflect and remember with heartfelt gratitude. Even though their physical presence may be gone, their love and care lives on forever.

 
 

 

From my heart to yours,
In health and wellness,
Mary

Be sure to visit my website at https://marymcmanus.com to learn about my journey to health and wellness in the wake of paralytic polio and trauma

Visit the News and Events tab to listen to my inspiring and uplifting interviews

My books to motivate, uplift and inspire you are available on Amazon

My Morning Run

 Because of the high heat and humidity in Boston, we've set the alarm for 6am, do a meta meditation, grab our cold water bottles from the fridge and get out the door before the heat of the day grips the region again. 

When we first started early morning runs, my body rebelled a bit wanting to hit snooze and then snooze again. But now my body looks forward to that early morning time and even craves it. The hours of daylight are diminishing and it's fascinating to experience the changes in morning light. We did a neighborhood run on Monday and here are the scenes I took pause to capture:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tom and Ruth Anne are training for 3 Half Marathons to once again raise money and awareness for Victory Programs. I run at my own pace while they train at theirs. It's an incredible time for me to connect with the Divine leaving yesterday's problems behind with every foot step and moving forward in joy feeling blessings and gratitude wash over me.

Fifteen years ago at this time, I had no idea what my future would look like. I wrote poetry and visualized a future very different than the one the doctors predicted for me. I was told to prepare to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair possibly needing a feeding tube and to expect an accelerated decline as I aged. 

Whoa! That was quite a prognosis. I know that a prognosis is based on what typically happens to a person with a certain diagnosis. I decided to not be typical and refused to take the diagnosis sitting down.

What an incredible journey this has been. I know deep in my heart and soul that every step is a gift and every mile is a blessing. I am not racing anymore although my daughter keeps encouraging me to find a slow runner friendly 5K. I am thrilled to be support crew on the roads and with fundraising for Ruth Anne's journey which Tom, at age 70, has signed on to be a training and running partner.

The streets were quiet except for a few of our neighbors walking their pups. We greeted each other with a nod.  

Wednesdays are rest days for Tom and Ruth Anne. It was the geese and me around the small Reservoir yesterday. I savored my time of solitude opening my heart to gratitude with every step I took. I was anticipating a run in the rain yesterday. It would have been a welcome relief from the drought we are having in Massachusetts. Before I went to bed, I reflected on how long it had been since I experienced a run in the rain with that sense of unbridled joy splashing in puddles (something I couldn't experience as a child in the wake of polio) feeling refreshing rain on my face. But the sun was out! I changed what I planned to wear. We would often feel grateful that it wasn't raining on a run day but given the drought conditions, I didn't feel the joy of having another day of sunshine. Yet I did thoroughly enjoy my wonderful Wednesday morning miles:

I marveled at how the light played on the water and tuned into the sound of the waves lapping against the shore. There were moments of stillness when the water served as a canvas for nature's masterpiece and other times when the wind kicked up again.

Fifteen years after the diagnosis of a progressive neuromuscular condition, I celebrate the miracle of healing, embracing infinite possibilities, releasing all cares and worries that were once ingrained in my body, mind and soul feeling exhilarated after my morning run.

From my heart to yours,
In health and wellness,
Mary

Be sure to visit my website at https://marymcmanus.com to learn about my journey to health and wellness in the wake of paralytic polio and trauma

Visit the News and Events tab to listen to my inspiring and uplifting interviews

My books to motivate, uplift and inspire you are available on Amazon

Eight Years Ago: One Moment in Time

 

 

Pre-race photos with J. Alain Ferry, Race Director and Bill Rodgers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One Moment in Time: Race Report Bill Rodgers 5K Run/Walk to Benefit Prostate Cancer                              August 10, 2014 from The Adventures of Runnergirl 1953:

 

I was open to whatever my body was going to be able to do today. My mantra for today's race was light and joy. I wanted to thoroughly enjoy the day. I slept well and didn’t have the usual pre-race jitters. I had a good breakfast of a bagel, oatmeal, banana and orange juice. What a luxury to be able to get up at 6:45am on a race day and drive 10 minutes to the start of the race.

 

I had a sense of trust that this was going to be a good day.

 

When we arrived, race director Alain Ferry who was also the organizer of the OneRun greeted us. He had been following my blog posts about my intention to PR for the race. He gave me a big bear hug and asked me to remind him what my goal was for today's race.

 

“I hope we see 47:00 minutes or less on the clock when you cross that finish line. Remind me again of your name?” Alain asked extending his hand to Tom.

 

“It’s Tom.”

 

“We met at the Heartbreak Hill Marathon weekend. I remember you.”

 

He warmly shook Tom’s hand and said, “Well I’ve got about a million things to do. See you back here.”

 

I reconnected with Bill Rodgers at his table while he sold copies of his book, “Marathon Man: My 26.2 Mile Journey From Unknown Grad Student to the Top of the Running World.” He remembered me and my story from Hyannis.

 

“How did you like the book?” Bill asked me.

 

“I loved it Bill,” I answered with a big smile. I shared with him parts of the book that resonated with me.

 

“Life is hard,” he said to me. “That’s why we run. If we can tough it out on the roads, we know we can tough it out in life.”

 

Bill turned and introduced us to his girlfriend Karen.

 

“I overheard your conversation with Billy. You’ve had an amazing journey. I’m a breast cancer survivor and started running in my 40’s after the diagnosis.”

 

We instinctively hugged even though we just met each other.

 

“Let’s get everyone over to the starting line,” Alain commanded through his bullhorn.

 

Pre-race announcements talked about the importance of supporting research, early detection and treatment for Prostate Cancer. Alain asked for a show of hands of those running affected by cancer. There was an astounding number of hands raised in the crowd. Alain handed Bill Rodgers the mic. He shared how he is a prostate cancer survivor.

 

“It is the #2 leading cause of cancer deaths among American men. We need to pay as much attention to prostate cancer for men as we do for breast cancer for women.”

 

Bill Rodgers went on in his pre-race remarks. “Running and walking is a simple little sport but we as Americans can use it to change the world.”

 

And then it was gun time and time for me to write another chapter of my story.

 

We started at the front of the pack with Bill Rodgers off to our left. I went out running fast through the campus of Boston College. Thirty years ago I received my Masters in Social Work degree and spent many many hours on that beautiful campus. The field took off and I adhered to my race plan. We'd run the downhill and I'd run for as long as I could and then move into race walking. When we got to the rolling hills of Commonwealth Avenue, I race walked. The sun was bright and the day heated up fast. We were grateful there was no humidity and we could go on the sidewalk for shade. We brought frozen water bottles that I used for hydration and to keep cool.

 

Mile 1 - 14:33 pace. I was blown away by my time but I knew that anything could happen over the next two point one miles.

 

Tom kept checking in with me. How was I feeling? Did anything hurt? I didn't talk much which is very unusual for me and I was breathing hard. I had a single-minded goal but I was running from the inside out.

 

In my training runs I had stopped to take a "water break.” At times I slowed my pace, but kept moving forward. We stopped for about 30 seconds at the water stop before it was time to tackle the hill with a 221' elevation.

 

Mile 2 - time was almost 30 minutes.

 

Okay I think I can. I think I can. I've got this. I can do this.

 

Tom said to me "What do we do with hills?"

 

"We eat them for breakfast," I managed to get out.

 

To the top of Beacon Street and a right onto College Road.

 

A right onto Commonwealth Avenue heading toward the finish.

 

Alain came out on his bike, "Oh there you are. "Come on you're almost there."

 

I was hot and my tank was close to empty.

 

As we headed toward the finish Alain told me I had less than a minute for my PR.

 

People gathered to cheer me on.

 

Alain was just on the other side of the finish line.

 

I sprinted to the finish and the finish clock read 46:57 gun time!

 

I knew in my heart and soul that I crossed more than a finish line. As I told Alain, I reclaimed my life. The essence of who I am took center stage. It was another moment of redemption achieved through running. I wrung out the grief from my nephew’s death. I ran as Boston Strong rinsing out the trauma of 4/15/13 with sweat and tears.

 

It's been one hell of a journey back since Charlie Louis Alper tragically and violently died on March 4th of 2011. Thanks to Alain and the OneRun, I knew I had to come back to the sport that had transformed my life. I realized it was more than coming back to running. It was setting a goal and once again challenging myself.  It was opening up to see what my body could do leaving nothing on the roads. It was about testing my mettle and letting go of fear.

 

Alain shared with me that he didn't expect to find us as far up on Commonwealth Avenue as close to the finish line as he did. He was concerned about the heat and was coming to provide support regardless of the time on the clock. When he saw how close we were to the finish, he wanted that PR for me as much as I did. I felt as though I was being pulled into the vortex of the finish line by his loving energy and all those cheering me on.

 

"I saw you start to cry and then I saw a look come across your face. You dug deep during that sprint,” he said to me. “It was quite a moving moment for me as a Race Director to watch you come across that finish line with such visible fierce determination.”

 

During that final sprint, Tom let me set the pace. He could tell I was in the zone. Tom wept with me when we crossed the finish line. We both knew that I left pain, fear and doubt out on the course and in its wake, strength, courage, confidence, and healing surged.

 

Gratitude filled my heart for Facebook friends who I met for the first time who cheered me on and took photos, and to Alain who was there to celebrate and tend to me post race.

“Here is an ice water for you. Go get in the shade and here’s a couple of oranges for you and Tom. I’m so proud of you!”

 

Today was one moment in time - many moments in time that I will always cherish when I look back on my adventures as runner girl.

 

My heart was full and I had a profound feeling of redemption and transformation. While I refueled with oranges, water and pretzels, news reporter Phil Lipof came over to me to introduce himself. He told me he wanted to have me be a part of the post-race celebration. He extended his hand and I apologized that my hand was sticky from the orange I ate. He told me that no apologies were necessary. I was surprised and overcome with emotion when he called me to stand with him while he shared my story.

 

Fortunately, Tom captured it on video. It was one of my favorite moments in time in the archives of the adventures of runnergirl 1953.

 

 

From my heart to yours,
In health and wellness,
Mary

Be sure to visit my website at https://marymcmanus.com to learn about my journey to health and wellness in the wake of paralytic polio and trauma

Visit the News and Events tab to listen to my inspiring and uplifting interviews

My books to motivate, uplift and inspire you are available on Amazon