My Best and Worst of 2013

New Year's Eve is tomorrow and, like many of you, I'll probably stay up counting down to midnight and ring in 2014 while saying goodbye to 2013. And, like many of you and many media outlets, I'll look back on the big moments of the year; at least in terms of my life, anyway. Honestly, the year is gone and nothing can be changed but I suppose I look back to remember fond moments, to try and learn a lesson or two not to be repeated in the new year and, perhaps, even to see what might make for good writing material and story ideas. It's also interesting and, I think, worthwhile to see if I've changed in any way with regard to how I view things or in how I respond to things.

So, without further ado and not in any particular order, here are my moments, good and bad, happy and sad (in some cases both), of 2013.

1. Meeting Rod Dixon. I try to go to the New York Marathon Expo every year and this year I brought my son with me. By chance, as we strolled the aisles looking for the Timex booth and the adidas and New Balance shops, I came across a guy who was handing out 3x5 postcards of Rod Dixon, his arms raised, when he won the New York City Marathon in 1983. When the guy asked if I wanted to meet Rod (I'm going to call gim Rod and not Mr. Dixon because runners are very intimate people), I was more than enthusiastic. You see, I've run the NY City Marathon (NYCM) twice. I was supposed to run it in 2012 but Hurricane Sandy derailed that. I've also, in the late 1990s and early 2000s (there was a gap year from about 2000-2001 when I didn't run much), been a very serious runner. Apart from work, I scheduled everything else around my running. Well, I owe a lot of my devotion to running and my passion for marathoning and the NYCM to Rod. In 1983, when I was growing up in Hong Kong, I watched a sports program on a Tuesday night and it featured that year's NYCM, obviously via tape delay. Well, Rod never led at any point in that race but, when he burst through with just yards to go and won, it was - and still is - one of the most exciting moments in sports I've ever seen. He showed athleticism, persevarance, courage and good old fashioned "To hell with it, I'm going for it!" gusto. Seconds after watching the clip, at the time not fully aware what a marathon really was, I pointed to the television screen and said, "I'm going to run that race." And, like I said, I have twice - in 1995 and 2005. Unfortunately, I was undertrained in both occasions and not as fit as I wanted to be. So, I'm determined to run it again, properly this time, and after meeting Rod and speaking with him I'm reenergized to do so. Rod was at the expo promoting his Kids Marathon Foundation and having my son with me, he gently reminded me that I need to get back to fitness so my son never falls out of it. "What you do, he does," Rod said and ever since then it's become one of my my mantras. Thank you Rod. It was a pleasure meeting you. 

2. My son entering kindergarten. This, and all the paper filing and appointments to get it done, was one of the most momentous moments of 2013. For one, from a practical standpoint, it meant no more day care which, in turn, meant less money out of pocket. And, who cant stand to keep money from going out? More than that, however, it was - as obvious as it was - a sign that my son is growing up. The last five years have gone by in a flash and I can only imagine the next five going by just as quickly. Kindergarten has seen my son grow in all aspects - physically, mentally, emotionally, socially - which is expected but it's his love for school that really makes an impression on me. He sincerely enjoys his teacher and classmates and he loves learning. Making his lunches everyday, checking the work he brings home, attending Back-To-School events and Teacher Conferences, watching the winter concert are all warm blankets around my and my wife's hearts that our son is becoming a 'person.' They also make me look back when I was that age and the things I went through and, as parent, being able to guide and advise him, not from gut reaction or because a parenting book said to do it a certain way, but from experience and wisdom. From the moment my son was born, I became a father. Now that he's in school and has his own interests and friends, I'm becoming a dad. 

3. Pope Francis. Can I say it or is it too soon? I love Pope Francis. His approach to leading the Catholic Church is fresh and openminded. I love how he's focusing on the individual and not on issues. When he said that a person doesn't have to believe and can still be a good person, a spark lit inside me. His deemphasis on abortion and homosexuality is refreshing, too, as is his approach to let local churches manage their own congregations. For me, he's rejuvenated the Catholic Church and humanized it. This year wasn't the first time a pope resigned and a new one was appointed but it's the first time in my lifetime and, in many ways, it's made me feel that the Catholic Church has become more accessible and approachable. Growing up, the Catholic Church was - and I guess still is - this large, enigmatic entity with secrets and hidden practices and, of course, God. The pope, too, was someone who was supposed to lead his flock, whether he wanted the position or not, until he died. In my lifetime, Pope Francis's appointment is the fourth I've been through. For the first two - the appointments of John Paul I and John Paul II - though, I was eleven or twelve, maybe ten, and I remember my mother making me get down on my knees, with her, and pray for the pope each time. I didn't even really know what was happening. As an adult, though, watching CNN and EWTN coverage of Pope Benedict's and Pope Francis's appointments and with Pope Francis's humility and openness, the Catholic Church has, for me, been demystified and isn't as sacrosanct as it once seemed. And that's a good thing.

4. Review and endorsement by IndieReader.com. IndieReader.com is a major website that promotes independently published books. In 2013, I managed to link up with IR and my book, Back Kicks And Broken Promises, was read and reviewed by one of its staffers. Back Kicks got a 4 star rating (out of 5) and received 'approved' status to boot. This wasn't the first review my book received and it wasn't the first positive review either but it was the first review from an outlet that is seen widely by the writing, literary and publishing communities. It was also highly validating to read such a positive review and to know that this, my first novel and a very personal labour of love, has value outside my own mind and heart. The reviewer called Back Kicks "a pertinent novel" and that, to me, is much more meaningful than being told my book is good or liked or written well. Click here for the review.

5. and 6. Invitation to enter my book in the Asian American Literary Awards (AALA). This gets two spots because it impacted me in two ways - one positive and one less than positive. I don't want to say negative because, really, it wasn't but it did bum me out. The AALA is run by the Asian American Writers Workshop (AAWW), the main outlet for Asian American literature in the United States. When I received an email from one of the AALA's organising team members inviting me to enter Back Kicks And Broken Promises, naturally I was elated. I wouldn't say I felt that I'd arrived but I felt that my work was starting to get recognition. In the email, the words "your book needs to be considered" - without a doubt, an emphatic endorsement  - struck me hard. The AALA, a arm of the AAWW knows my work! For sure, some kind of breakthrough into the world of Asian American literati had been made. But, here's where the bum out takes place. The AALA does not accept self-published books; at least not those from a print-on-demand (POD) outlet. If my book was self-published through a small indie press it would still have been considered. The fact that it's POD disqualified it. I wasn't sure what to feel. I knew about this rule when I'd received the invitation and I was the one who brought it to their attenton. Part of me wishes I hadn't, to be honest. In a way, I wish I'd never gotten the invitation because, in the end, it was an unintended tease. In a way. Honestly, I'm glad I did. Having gotten it and with the strong endorsement that it came with, I did feel a win of sorts. I knew, again, that someone other than myself values my book and, as an Asian American author, who better than to value it than the AAWW and the AALA. Hopefully 2014 will see me get an agent and a publisher so my books are traditionally published and, if considered again by the AALA, they can actually be accepted. 

7. and 8. My son starting Taekwondo lessons. This is another double-edge sword of an event. I'm ecstatic that my son has started Taekwondo lessons and that he loves them. I'm also glad for the school he's going to. It's local, the masters teach a great curriculum and are excellent in their demeanour and technique, and the school is current with how things are done in The Kukkiwon (the world Taekwondo headquarters in Seoul, South Korea). The school is also affiliated with USA Taekwondo (USAT) and The World Taekwondo Federation (WTF) so, in addition to getting quality martial arts training, my son will also have the opportunity to enter the world of sports Taekwondo if his so desires. The bum out here, though, is that I am also a Taekwondo master but my son is not taking lessons from me. I don't have my own dojang (training hall) so finding a place to teach him is difficult. Also, I wouldn't have any other students and having other kids in his age-based class does help. It's a martial arts tradition, though, for a father who studies martial arts to pass his martial arts down to his children. It's a tradition, since I got my first degree black belt in 1989, I'd hoped to continue. My father didn't study martial arts so it's also a tradition I'd hoped and planned to start with my family. It was also one of my goals and dreams. Like I said, I'm overjoyed that my son is doing Taekwondo and that he's doing it where he is - there are few other places I'd prefer for him to go - but it is heartbreaking that it's not with me. A time may come when I am his teacher but, having gone through dojang changes myself, it's not the same. I've trained under many masters but I will always consider myself the student of Grandmaster Kwang Jae Lee, my first Taekwondo teacher and the one who awarded me my first degree black belt.

9. 100 and 101 wins. Of the many hats I wear, being a volleyball coach is one of my favourites. I enjoy sports and I enjoy developing athletes and, having just conpleted my thirteenth season (over four programs) coaching volleyball, I like to think I have an idea of what needs to get done on the court. Due to personnel turnover (we graduated eleven out of fourteen of the 2012 varsity squad) and other personal issues with players, the 2013 season was a struggle but it was nice to finish the second half of the season strongly and, in doing so, I earned my 100th and 101st career wins. This really is a small accomplishment when you consider other coaches have wins in the 500s and some coaches have reached 100 in less time than I did but it's still a milestone and athletes are always looking for them. It feels good, though, to have joined the century club so it's made this list of my ten most memorable or impacting events of 2013. Maybe I'll get to 200 in less than the next thirteen seasons.

10. The Collective. I'm referring to Don Lee's novel. It came out in 2012 but I didn't get to read it until this year and, boy, what a read it is. I don't think it got rave reviews publicly but, for me, it's probably my favourite and, perhaps, the best book I read in 2013. Rarely has a book tugged at me mentally and emotionally as this one did and, rarely, has a book made me cry. I cried in parts when I read Sung J.Woo's Everything Asian and, as a father, how could I not have cried during parts of The Road but Don's book just hit me at the core. I related so much with both male protags and, as an Asian American writer trying to produce meaningful work and find significance in the Asian American writing community and significance within himself, through his work, it was like The Collective was written for me and about me. When I emailed Don and shared my brief review with him, he thanked me. HE THANKED ME! What an honor  He said that my response to his book was what he was hoping to elicit from its readers. If you're an writer, especially an Asian American one, you have to read this book. Click here for Don's site.

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Honourable Mentions: I could probably find numerous events to put on this list but it would turn from a Top Ten to Top 100 and just become ridiculous. There are two other things that happened in 2013 that stand out for me that are worth mentioning, however. 1: I was featured in an article (click here) with other writers, about self-published Asian American authors in Hyphen Magazine and 2: I made a nice connection with YA author Alex London (Proxy). I wrote a review about Proxy (click here) and shared it with him. After that, we exchanged a few emails and he's agreed to look at my current manuscript. Incidentally, he sequel to Proxy, Guardian, is coming out next spring. Click here for Alex's site. 

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So, that was my year of memorable moments of 2013. For 2014, there will be new ones; hopefully progressing my writing career and hopefully all positive. Congratulations to all of you on your accomplishments of the past year and good luck in the next. Happy writing, happy living and happy new year!

New York City Marathon

I'm in.

That's the slogan for the New York City Marathon; the one they use for everyman runners like me who get in through the lottery. Marketing and PR people, the smart and creative people they are - I'm sure the New York Road Runners Club consulted, at least, one to help them with their promotional campaign - came up with the perfect slogan. "I'm in" is exactly what I said when I discovered I had been drawn to run this year's edition of the 26.2 mile race.

I've run the New York City Marathon (NYCM) twice before. I don't know if 'run' is the correct word to use, really, but it's an acceptable one. Whether you actually run the distance or mix bouts of running with walk breaks to preserve your legs, as long as you cross the finish line, you're allowed to say you 'ran' the marathon. The word 'jog' has really gone out of favour. It implies a casualness and callousness to pounding the pavement. 'Run,' on the other hand, regardless of your experience or speed, connotes a sense of commitment and training and changing one's lifestyle. Besides, unless you're a professional or elite runner whose focus is to run fast and win and qualify for bigger events, like The Olympics, runners approach races for a variety of reasons. For some, it's to challenge themselves to achieve a physical goal. For others, it's to lose weight. Some run to belong to a group of like-minded individuals and some do it to relive past glories or to delay the decline of speed that was taken for granted over high school and college running careers. And, of course, there are runners who race to raise money for worthy causes like cancer and leukemia research and treatments.

I run because it's great fitness, I want to lose weight and get back to my pre-married level of fitness and because it's something I can do on my own. Generally speaking, I'm one of those people who likes doing this by himself. I also run to achieve a sub 5:00 time for 26.2 miles. This is something my friend, Ian, and I have been going for since the Disney Marathon of 1999. My time goal is sub 5:00 and his is 3:30. Oh, and I run the marathon because it's a magical distance. It's long enough to be a major challenge and short enough to be doable, to earn me some respect (self and otherwise) and some pride. It's a challenge; one that's achievable without killing yourself. My feeling: anyone who runs and who has ever, however fleetingly, thought of running the distance should go ahead and do it.

My desire to run the NYCM came about in 1983 when I saw Rod Dixon, on a delayed TV broadcast shown in a Hong Kong sports program, across the finish line. There was drama when he beat the runner who was in front of him, it was raining and the look on his face and Dixon's dropping to his knees made a major impact on me. In fact, before becoming a devotee of Saint Jude and wanting to and, consequently, naming my son Jude, I'd thought about naming any children I'd have - male or female - after my favourite runners - Dixon, German (after German Silva), Khalid (after Khalid Khannouchi) and Haile (after the legend, Haile Gebrselassie). If my wife and I have another child, I'd consider these names still. If we have a girl, I might throw in some combination of Paula (after Paula Radcliffe) and Jennifer (my older sister who died a few hours after her birth and, for some strange reason, I feel  connected to. My screenplay Jenny is named for her).

In the late 1990s and early 2000s, I was a very serious runner. For a single, straight mile I was running about 6:50. For longer runs, naturally I was slower; anywhere from 8:30-11:00 per mile depending on the distance. In the 1999 Disney World Marathon, I was running well and did the maths in my head as my feet hit the ground. I was heading for a 4:40 but at mile 17...BOOM!. My left hamstring went and I had to start using long walks with short running spurts. One of the volunteers at a water station even rubbed my leg down. Just before the 26 mile mark, I stopped altogether. I felt tears wanting to run down my face knowing I was so close to finishing but feeling like I couldn't take another step. But, I was on my feet and recalled one of Ian's and my mantras - "DNF is not an option." (DNF is runnerspeak for Did Not Finish.) So, I took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other and ran, ignoring any and all pain and discomfort. After a few yards, as if it felt my my conviction, my hamstring became my ally and did its best to divert any injury I'd suffered nine miles earlier. When I crossed the finish line, Ian and another friend of his, Mark, were there cheering me on. I didn't get my time goal but I'd run a marathon fit and prepared. I felt good. Not getting my time goal wasn't because of my laziness or lack of fitness but by simple bad luck and getting injured. I could accept that.

I don't know if I'll get my PR (Personal Record) at the NYCM this fall. I'm in worse shape than I was when I started training for Disney 1999 in the fall of 1997. I'm older and my knees have suffered more wear and tear since then. In 1995 I ran the NYCM but without being properly prepared. I did it again in 2005 but I was already out of shape and, again, I didn't train properly. This time around, 6 weeks into training, I'm committed to doing it right. I'm being disciplined in developing my base. I've started something new and been running with a partner, my friend Lu who I kind of conned into signing up for this fall's Philadelphia Marathon. I'm adding walk breaks into my training runs and I'm feeling fitter already and smarter as a runner. A couple weekends ago I managed a 10 miler in 2:05.16. I've lost nine pounds over the last six weeks and I'm feeling leaner and my knees hurt less. I'm also not doing this on my own. I'm running on my own, except for the once or twice a week workouts with Lu, but I'm sharing my exploits. Lu and I share running stories and insights. There are other runners at work we talk to as well. In fact, training for this marathon feels like training for Disney 1999 and that was, apart from my injury, a success.

Lu was with me when I found out if I'd been accepted to run NYCM 2012. We watched the live online show but that didn't reveal anything. Via Twitter, another runner told me to check my credit card account online. Nothing. Well, that was until after lunch, when I checked and saw I'd been charged. I knew what that meant but I didn't want to count my chickens before they hatched so I waited until I got a confirmation email. The NYRRC website said we - the applicants - wouldn't find out until the following day but I found out that afternoon. I'm in. As the saying goes in The Hunger Games, although for not getting selected, the odds were in my favour and I'd gotten chosen. I was happy, in a way I hadn't been in a long time, and I was - and still am - mentally, emotionally and physically prepared to train for the race.

Runners World Magazine did a column on the levels of running commitment and I fell in the 'Serious Amateur' category. That was around 1998 or so. Back then - single and childless - I was able to juggle work, coaching, writing and my social life around my running. That's a little harder now because I'm married and a father and have more work obligations but I'm no less committed to my training than I was then. And with my wives' support - Guada, my real wife, and Lu, my 'work wife' (that's a topic for another blog) - and the support of very close friends (like AC, who never seemed to lose belief that I'd regain my fitness), I know that I'll be properly trained for my fourth marathon.

Will I achieve my sub 5:00 goal? I don't know. I'll do my best and, if I don't, Ian please don't be hard on me. New York is a tough course with lots of hills and bridges but I'll do my best. I'm going to shoot for it but I can't make any promises other than aiming for 4:59.99 or better. What I do know is that, even only in base training, I'm already a fitter person and a happier person. I'll be a role model for my son and my students and athletes (I teach Physical Education and Health and I coach Volleyball and Track and Field). And, if being a fitter and better dad to my boy is all I'll get, I'm okay with that.