140 Miles of Life: A Remarkable Journey to Self- Acceptance and Love: Excerpt

By Veronica Carrera

Author of 140 Miles of Life: A Remarkable Journey to Self- Acceptance and Love

Veronica Carrera holds a B.A. in French from Brigham Young University and an M.B.A. from Cornell’s Johnson Graduate School of Management, where she was honored as “The 2015 Best Executive EMBA.” She recently completed the Inner M.B.A. (conscious leadership program) at New York University and is currently pursuing a Life Coaching certification with Jay Shetty.

Veronica’s story of triumphing over adversity, not only offers hope and inspiration for readers to discover true inner wisdom and acceptance but may save lives!

Hers is a story of love, loss, courage and healing.

Today, she is an avid triathlete and passionate advocate for human rights, a highly sought-after speaker and a successful sales leader at one of the top tech companies in the world. She is also the creator/producer of the LinkedIn Live show 30 Minutes of Wisdom-Rising in Consciousness & Mindfulness.

Veronica’s journey represents pure POWER. Power of self, power of spirit, and power of determination. She is an inspiration to everyone who strives for what is right in life and those who want to rise above opposition. You cannot truly change the way things are unless you have lived through the way things are. Veronica has LIVED! Her spiritual path has led to physical endeavors that have enabled her to break though stereotypes and not only dismantle but destroy the framework that has impeded the LGBTQ community from success and acceptance. But Veronica is here to say “NO! Acceptance isn’t the goal, but integration. Integration of the soul through pure love and universal connection.”

Excerpt from 140 Miles of Life: A Remarkable Journey to Self- Acceptance and Love:

I was surprised when a good-looking married couple, the husband from Spain and the wife from Mexico, approached me after our South African post-marathon celebration. I hadn’t spoken that much to them, only seen them running. They took turns telling me, “You did very well in the race. It was a completely challenging route!” I politely thanked them. Then the Spaniard looked into my eyes and paused for a couple of seconds before he spoke, “Have you ever thought about doing an Ironman?’

“An Ironman? What is that?” I asked. 

He was quiet for a minute, as if going over some private thoughts, and then he said kind of passionately, “I just feel you would do very well! I think you should do it.” 

His wife nodded her agreement.

“But what is it?” I asked, anxious to know. 

He proceeded to tell me that he and his wife had just completed an Ironman before flying to South Africa for this Marathon. 

“It is a 140 Mile Race,” he said. “You swim for 2.4 Miles, then bike for 112 Miles and finally run a full marathon for 26.2 miles. It’s raced in that order and without a break. That’s an Ironman. You have 17 hours to complete it.”

“17 Hours?!!!” I was dumbfounded. I was astonished at its length and trying to comprehend what kind of crazy race that might be. Would that even be fun? Masochistic? What? Then he interrupted my thoughts, “Doesn’t Veronica Carrera 12 it sounds amazing? It is truly epic!” He had such fire and certainty about it. I didn’t quite get it. 

“Well,” I said, laughing, “I can’t do it anyway.” 

“Why not?” he asked. 

“I don’t know how to swim.” He looked at me in a way as if wanting to light an unknown fire in me and said, “I don’t agree. You and I have the same look in our eyes. You can do it.”

I shook my head and said, “You don’t understand. I am terrified of the water. I think it’s because I almost drowned as a child and that was it for me,” and then I shook their hands and wished them well. 

“Think about it,” he said.

A few days later, I said goodbye to all the wonderful athletes I had met in South Africa at the marathon, and all the kind and beautiful South African people who’d made me feel so at home. I was on my way back to New York.

As I sat on the plane, I could feel myself returning to my “normal” life, but I felt renewed by this journey. I’d seen a wonderful new country; I’d done extremely well in the marathon, and I had made many new friends. It was yet another time when I realized how each experience opens our eyes to the beauty of life, rekindling the light within us and chiseling out more of our inner strength and character. It made me sit back and recall what a race I had been running all my life. One that had had more than its share of obstacles and victories, one that had already tested my resilience and faith. But in some ways, such a circuitous and difficult race had been a privilege. 

I moved my seat to reclining, and began to wonder, “If I could survive all that, maybe I could do an Ironman. “And then I closed my eyes and began to remember. 

Chapter 1. 

We have to go

I can still recall, even though I was only four years old, how my mother woke me up as I lay fast asleep. She wrapped me in a blanket and whispered, “We’re going.” It was still dark; it must have been around 4 in the morning. “Mama, donde vamos?”

She hushed me softly and asked me to be quiet. 

Then I asked, “Y mi papi?”

She didn’t answer.

Everyone seemed to be sleeping. We finally reached the front door, and a cab was out front waiting for us. We quickly got in. It seemed that everything had been carefully planned, carefully orchestrated. The cab took us to an elderly couple’s home with whom my mother, I eventually learned, had made arrangements to become their helper in exchange for room and food for both of us. It was light by the time we walked in, and I saw an old man in a wheelchair and his equally elderly wife standing next to him. There was nothing warm about her. She seemed to have a harsh and cold energy. We had barely put our Veronica Carrera 14 luggage down, when this old woman authoritatively asked my mother to go and buy some things for her right now. 

As my mother started to walk toward the front door, I immediately followed, but the old lady screamed, “And where do you think you are going? You stay here!”

I saw my mom’s eyes immediately turn towards me, desolate and teary. Then the woman screamed again, rushing my mom to move on. Mom seemed hesitant to leave me behind but, as she heard the old woman squeal again, she opened the door. I started to scream, “Mama! No me dejes aqui! Llevame contigo.” She looked back, but left.

I began to cry and scream even louder. I found myself alone with these two strangers – thrown in like a tossed stick of wood. They started to follow me around the room to make me stop crying. I felt frightened alone with them; I was busy trying to get away. As the old couple were trying to find a way to grab me, I suddenly made it to the front door and escaped. I don’t believe they followed me outside. This little 4-year-old me replicated an escape of her own.

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For more information, visit: www.veronicacarrera.com 

 

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Category: Contemporary Women Writers, On Writing