Where are those damned boot straps? Thoughts on grit

"There were others who had forced their way to the top from the lowest rung by the aid of their bootstraps." James Joyce, Ulysses

Where does the term "Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps" come from? I've done a little research, but can't seem to find the exact etymology.

My personal history with this phrase comes from my dad.

Most who know me know I was raised by a Marine. A proud Marine. At 73 years of age, he still wears his U.S. Marine Corp hat when he goes out, and the same logo still sits on the back of his car, the only sticker that would ever touch that metal.

My dad's Paris Island photo, 1958. I grew up hearing stories about Paris Island that make Full Metal Jacket look like a Disney film.

One of my earliest memories growing up was dad quoting Alfred Lord Tennyson's "The Charge of the Light Brigade: "Yours is not to reason why; yours is but to do or die." And while my innocent childhood question of "why?" was not in reference to war time or weaponry, my dad meant every word of that quote when he said it to me. My place was not to question why. The daughter of a Marine does not question authority. And I was a good daughter.

Until I became an adult.

For a long time, I rebelled. Full of teen angst, I seemed to question everything, the pendulum swinging the opposite direction. As I matured, the pendulum settled back to center.

But lately, I find myself questioning a lot of things again.

This season has found me questioning, for the first time, why I run dogs. I've tried to be honest and forthright about my realizations. If I'm being honest, there has been so much going on in my life personally that this season has really worn me down. I have searched for my boot straps, but haven't been able to find them.

My dad had grit. My grandmothers on both sides had the same tenacious grit. Some would call it simply being fiercely stubborn.

Grit is a character trait that is essential to this sport. We spend so many hours out with the dogs in all kinds of weather training them for races. During the holidays, when most people are thinking about family and gift-giving, we are calculating miles and spending hours on long runs with our canine athletes.  It takes perseverance, dedication, sacrifice and determination to train for races.

I admit it: this year, I almost buckled under the pressure. There have been challenges - both personal and financial - that have almost broken my ability to "stay the course."

But, instead, I have tapped into my own grit.

Grit helps me maintain determination and motivation over extended periods despite failure and adversity. Grit enables courage and stamina despite set backs.

This New Year's Day, I went on a breath taking, beautiful 20 mile run. I celebrated the beginning of a new year in solitude and quiet introspection with my best canine friends, and we were blessed with a gorgeous sunset over a tundra-covered landscape. My camera on my phone was all I had to capture the beauty, and it's blurry and doesn't nearly capture the ethereal light in the west.

Thank you, dad, for teaching me to pull myself up by my own boot straps and passing along your grit to me. Here is a video to celebrate GRIT!



And, as always,

“New York is appalling, fantastically charmless and elaborately dire”

Henry James said the above quote. And while I wouldn't be quite so hard on upstate New York (it does have its charms: large old dairy farms, rolling Adirondack mountains...) I was not a fan of New York this past weekend. Here's why:



That's my new dog trailer at Meyer's Towing in Camillus, New York this past Saturday. To make a long story short, we had a tire blow out Friday evening before we even made it out of Ohio. Then early Saturday morning, about 7:30 a.m., the very same tire blew again!

Because of the weird way the wheels were bolted to the axle, it was impossible to change a tire. The very good folks at Meyer's helped to get my trailer in tip top shape and welcomed us all. They greeted every dog as I took everyone outside for breaks.


The girls, Tak (left) and Ruffian (right) stand ready to go at Tug Hill

In the end, I missed my start time for Tug Hill in the 8 dog pro class. I was not about to go through what I went through to get that far and NOT run dogs! So I hooked up seven dogs (my eighth dog was in heat), grabbed a trail map and headed out for a run on the gorgeous Adirondack trails.


My team running along the trails in Winona State Forest, NY

My dogs were so amped after being in the dog trailer and all we'd gone through to get there, they tore around the first corner of the "Pussycat Trail" out of the parking area, knocking over my handlers and throwing me face-first into a hard snow bank. Subsequently, I received my first black eye from dog mushing!


The beginnings of a black eye - my right one


My dogs hooked down and smiling

The best part of the weekend was that Sophie made her first race!


Sophie in her race bib

Sophie was very nervous before starting her first race - so much so that she almost didn't start because she felt sick to her stomach. Like a trooper, however, she rode up to the starting chute with my leaders, Yeti and Ruffian.


Sophie at the race start chute listens to Mark Broughton, Race Marshall, offer words of encouragement

She confessed when she came in from her run that she had thrown up along the race trail! And she kept on going! She made me so proud!



My very good friend, Amanda, raced in the four dog open class with on of our puppies from our litter last year, Bolt - who is now known as Tempo.


Tempo, aka "Bolt" from Gwennie's litter last year did spectacularly in her first race of the 2011 season at Tug Hill. Here she is in wheel (driver's left). Look at her go!

Overall, the take-home lesson from the weekend was this: buck up and don't give up. All of the obstacles we encountered on the road to New York gave me a chance to talk to Sophie about an important life lesson, that of resilience and determination.


My yearling, Aspen, at Tug Hill

There will always be obstacles. But to be successful, we must never give up.