How nothing and everything has changed…

“Driving home, the sky accelerates
And the clouds all form a geometric shape
And it goes fast
You think of the past
Suddenly everything has changed” ~The Flaming Lips

Since I hadn’t been on Facebook in a few weeks, I missed random things that were happening.  As I perused a little this morning, I saw my brother had posted that last Thursday marked 6 months since my father passed away.  I couldn’t believe it.  Had it really been six months already? Had close to 180 days truly passed?  Have I simply been asleep or in a coma to suddenly wake up and find out this information? How can something feel like yesterday and years ago all at once?

I can honestly say that I have been through more in this 6 months than probably the rest of my life put together.  The dizzying highs and lows, the turmoil that was self-created throughout the summer, it caused a sort of retreat into myself that I have not quite been able to come out of yet.  True, I am not the person I was in August, not quite knowing which way was up and which way was down, confused about the sheer aspect of living life on a daily basis at time.  I am far from that, but I still sometimes feel the need to protect myself from people, and even from feelings, making sure I don’t become that summertime person I was.

While I have let go of the summer; of my dad, of memories, unsure decisions, and enlightening life changes, I haven’t truly let go.  Everything about these few months still hang around me like a dark cloud that could either blow on by or begin pouring down on me at any minute. Every time I think my stride has become right again and my path is straight and narrow a turn, or a rock, or even a small pebble comes out of nowhere to cause me to stumble and fall.  It causes me to relive and remember things that I don’t necessarily want to.

While I may have used the excuse of my dad dying before as the reason I was so off kilter this summer, I need to stop. First and foremost, it’s not fair to him.  He wasn’t a great man, frankly, he wasn’t a good man either, at least not to me, but when someone leaves us we can choose how we see things, and I choose to remember the early years over the later ones.  It’s not fair to continue to blame him for my short comings.  True, his death contributed, but only in the way that it caused initial strife and turmoil within myself.  I had the choice at that moment to begin getting better or continue down a path of self-destruction and we know which one I chose. I had no way to handle my feelings, or really simply to understand them, so I created myself anew, became someone that I wasn’t, simply so I wouldn’t have to deal with the effects of the pain; simply so I wouldn’t have to deal with feeling anything at all.

So many things died this summer, most notably, important parts of myself marred by uneasy choices and decisions along the way.  I have used the fall to rebuild what was lost and broken, and find the parts that were stolen and forgotten about. Some times I feel like I am back together better than ever and at others I feel like I am still a giant pile of rubble ready to be swept into the trash, missing pieces that are so integral to my survival

I’d like to be all zen and believe that all the decisions, even the bad ones, contribute to who you are. I’d like to think that even the bad decisions have gotten me to the place I am today and I should be grateful.  But I’m not all zen. I’m not even a little zen.  I’m not an optimist, I’m a realist.  In the words of Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Life could be a little sweet, But life could be a little shitty.”  And really, in a nutshell, that’s how I feel.

But if we’re still breathing, if we’re still upright, if we can still find something to smile about, then we haven’t lost our hope.

What I know now more than ever is that sometimes life sucks.  But then again, sometimes it doesn’t.

Who’s got W-I-L-L-P-O-W-E-R? Not me…

“Willpower is trying very hard not to do something you want to do very much.” ~ John Ortberg

Things have been going well and not well all at the same time.  Is that even possible?  I’ve been pretty sad lately because a knee injury has sidelined my workout and running efforts.  I probably could have worked out this week, but it was hard to motivate myself knowing I was going to be in pain.  Running was simply out of the question, as it hurt just to walk sometimes.  I got back on the scale and was happy to see I had not gained anything, especially during my crappy eating binge of our snow days.  There were times I should have said no when I whole heartedly said yes and it was reassuring to see that the healthy band wagon didn’t get too far ahead and I am still able to jump back on.

I realize, though, especially during these snow days, that I have a terrible problem with willpower.  The fact seems to be that I don’t have any, or at the very least, I seemed to have misplaced it somewhere around the end of spring.  I’ve tried finding it, but have not had any luck.  I was doing so well last winter.  Eating healthy, working out, letting myself have random treats when I needed them, but for the most part saying no to those things that were going to harm me in the long run (I only ate a small piece of a homemade red velvet birthday cake last year, so that should tell you something).  I had gotten to the point where saying no felt good.  I wasn’t doing it to be pretentious or show that I was better than anyone else or that I could say no when others were saying yes.  I simply knew what that piece of cake/glass (bottle) of wine/cheeseburger was going to cost me in the long run and how I was going to feel if I gave in to the fleeting wanting; to that small dose of happiness I would feel during, but not after.  After, of course, I was going to feel like utter crap.

But lately, the “cravings” are getting the best of me and while I still feel like crap when I give in, I keep going back for more anyway. Part of the reason I deleted my Facebook account was that I was spending too much time on there when I should have been concentrating on other things (work, family, in-real-life friends).  I was wrapped up in this world of needing to know what someone ate for dinner last night, who went out with who, looking at photos, and spending too much time in the past.  And you know what? Every time I did it, spent way too much unconstructive time online, spent too much time on profiles that I have no reason to be on anymore, read conversations that had absolutely nothing to do with me, I felt gross.  Almost as if I had eaten an entire chocolate cake.  I’d get upset because I wasted time, jealous because I wasn’t invited somewhere, hungover on information I did not need.

I spent too weeks off Facebook and really did manage to get more done.  My basement is spotless.  My bed was made everyday. I read three magazines.  I was amazed at my willpower.  I couldn’t believe that I, a self-proclaimed Facebook junkie, had kicked the bad Facebook habit.

But you know what?  I hadn’t.  I had deleted my Facebook account, I had deleted the apps from my phone and iPad.  I had deleted the book mark from my computer.  There really wasn’t an easy way for me to get back on without having to re-log in or re-download something.  Essentially it wasn’t willpower.  Willpower would have been having access to it, but making the conscious decision not to get back on. I made it close to impossible for me to get back on.  Willpower would have been keeping my account, but forcing myself to limit my interactions and time online.  I made it so there was no choice to make.  I took the easy way out, the cowardly way out.

And really, the whole Facebook issue is reminiscent of most of the issues I have with my life.  I lack the willpower to say no or make a better decision.  Even when I know that what I am doing is the wrong choice I simply do it anyway because I can’t say no.  And really, I can, but it’s hard and sometimes I don’t know what I want.

But instead of taking the easy way out, I need to “man” up.  I need to learn to do what is best for me in the long run, not what is going to be a fleeting source of happiness.  I have to stop being so blind sided by what is right in front me and begin looking at the big picture.  I have to realize that pretty much everything is OK in moderation…but I need to make sure I am moderating (food, time online, time with family, etc.)

I’ve seen what I can accomplish when the challenge was easy.  Now let’s see what I can do when we up the ante.

Another Old Post…This time about Max.

I posted an old post about Ollie a few weeks ago, so I feel like I should do the same for Max.  Here are two posts about going through the IEP process with him.

My Dearest Maxer:

Tomorrow is my first meeting with the IEP team about you.  We’re not sure what’s going on, if anything is going on at all.  You’ve been having some trouble at school playing with friends and following directions and we just want to see if there is anything we can do to help you out!  That’s not to say you don’t have good days.  As a matter of fact, you have had two perfect days at school that last two days!

We’ve been so proud of you throughout your short, but lively, three and half years.  When you were born, it was a miracle.  Literally, a miracle.  It was the happiest day of my life and I can’t see any way that day will be topped.  I wanted to take this time now, before any meeting, before any checklist or specialist can decide who you are, to tell you all the things you are to me, and how, no matter what is said, these things will never change.

  • Our eyes are exactly the same color.  I haven’t noticed this until recently, but I love that we have this in common. You actually told me about this. Its a subdued hazel color that reminds me of a calm lake and I love that it links us together in a way that is only for us.
  • You have the most amazing vocabulary, better than most kids I know.  You use so many words I didn’t even know you knew and in the correct way
  • You are a wonderful big brother.  You go out of your way to make sure your brother is included in most things you do and are always sharing with him and asking him to play with you.
  • Your memory is remarkable.  You remember things I may have said once weeks, even months, ago (and are oh so kind to always remind me)
  • You give the best hugs.
  • You love your family; your grandparents, your uncles, and me and daddy.  You have no trouble telling us this and do so frequently.  This is a gift.  Don’t ever lose it.
  • One of my favorite times of day is the first five minutes that you wake up.  You run in, jump into bed with me and pretend to go back to sleep as you snuggle up.  Guess what.  I pretend to stay asleep, just to have a couple quiet minutes with you.
  • You love to help out and always want to be involved in everything.
  • Your stubborn streak drives me crazy, but I secretly love it.  It’s a part of me in you.
  • You are very interested in building and making things.  Anything you can do with your hands, really.  That makes me so proud considering I can’t even put together IKEA furniture.
  • You have a very active imagination.  You make up amazing stories and songs and constantly keep me laughing.

I could continue to write this list forever but I’ll stop here for now. Really, there is only one thing you need to know. No matter what happens, I love you.  As long as you know that we have nothing else to worry about.

Love,

Mom

———————————————————————————————————————————————————–

I realize it’s been a while since I’ve posted. Part of me just wasn’t ready to post until I had a final answer about Max. The other part of me has been crazy busy with so many things going on that I can’t even keep my head straight most of the time.

About a month ago we had Max’s testing date. I got the results in the mail a few days ago and today I met with that evaluation team to talk about the results. He received hearing and vision tests, was observed at school by a child psychologist to evaluate social behavior, and was given language, speech and cognitive tests as well.

One of the biggest things we found out was that Max has profound hearing loss in his right ear and borderline hearing loss in his left ear. This hearing loss has most likely been there for a while, probably more than a few months and it just shocks me that we never even noticed anything about it. Both the audiologist and the pediatrician believe it’s due to fluid buildup behind the eardrum when he had an ear infection almost a year ago! We went back today and saw that the hearing loss is getting worse.  We’re hoping that with this next round of medication he will be able to regain all of his hearing. If not we’ll have to visit the ENT to find out if surgery is needed.

As for the other tests, long story short…we have a well adjusted, highly articulate and well mannered, very bright, slightly fine motor delayed three year old who is well socialized for his age in all areas.  I don’t know if you know what it’s like to have a 50 pound bolder lifted off your chest, but that’s what this news felt like.  As first I was so relieved that I cried.  Then I became so angry I cried.  For two years we have been going through this nightmare where his teachers have been saying that something is wrong, or he might be on the spectrum and in reality, nothing is wrong. I wasted two years of my life trying to change my child and expecting him to adapt to what certain people think is “normal” instead of finding the right environment for him…the one that will let him be his quirky, lovable self.

Throughout this whole process I’ve learned a lot about Max, things I never knew.  Amazing, wonderful, delightful things.  But more importantly I’ve learned a lot about myself and my role as a mother and an advocate for my children. I’ve learned better to stand up for myself, my thoughts, and my opinions, and to stand up for theirs because they can’t do it themselves yet…that is, until I teach them to.

Starting as one thing, ending as another

“When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny.” ~Paulo Coelho

As per usual, I had a whole post written in my head already, yet when I sat down to begin writing, I knew I was going to change what I said.  I guess that’s one of my biggest problems.  I’ve never truly made up my mind about anything.  I never fully commit to anything.  I feel like I’m kind of the anti-stereotype; a 32 year old women who is afraid of commitment.  It’s almost like an oxymoron.

I was so proud of myself last Sunday.  I was 3 days into the Runners World Runner Streak challenge.  I was getting into a groove with my morning gym workouts and my night running.  I was truly happier with myself.  And this made me happier in most aspects of my life.  So, on Sunday, when I was running in my neighborhood I didn’t want to stop.  My knee was hurting a little, but I was really enjoying myself.  It was cold, but I didn’t care.  So when I realized I went almost 2.5 miles I was ecstatic.  The most I had run without stopping to walk at that point was a mile and a half.  I couldn’t believe that I went a full mile more, and mostly uphill.  I came home, stretched, and iced all the ailing parts of my body and went to bed happy.

And then when I woke up, I could barely walk.  My gym visit didn’t go so well either.  And the pain, while subsiding, has stuck around all week, so I haven’t been running since the first of December.  And I’m upset.  And depressed, and my temper is shorter. I feel like every time I get somewhere and hit some sort of consequential milestone for myself I have to stop yet again because of some injury to something.  Now that the plantar fasciitis is pretty much gone (it’s always going to be there, but I barely feel it anymore), and I have no more IT band pain, my knee starts to hurt any time I take a step.  I really started to feel like I should give up on running.  I’ll still go to the gym and take classes, eat right, and hopefully get into better shape, but maybe running was just a pipe dream I had.  I get that a lot of it has to do with using muscles and joints I’m not used to using, my weight, running on pavement, etc. Deep down, I know and understand these things, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

I was thinking that maybe I wasn’t meant to be a runner.  Not everyone is.  I don’t have to be.  Going to the gym everyday (and sometimes twice a day is more than enough.  Eating healthier is a major step in the right direction.  I don’t have to run.  I’ve got my water classes and the elliptical.  I’ve got my strength training three times a week.  I don’t have to run.  I don’t have to be a runner.

And then, I drive through my neighborhood, where I do most of my running, and get a little sad knowing that I probably won’t be running through there anytime soon.  And then I watch people on the treadmill at the gym, beginning runners as well as accomplished runners, and I actually feel jealous and envious even though I hate the treadmill.  And then I get a text from a friend telling me that she went running today and we should go together at some point (when she actually begins to enjoy it), and I get sad knowing this might not happen.

And after analyzing the way I feel, I know it isn’t over yet.  I immediately went online and bought two different knee braces to try out. I may need to go slower, but I don’t care.  It was never about being fast or winning a race for me.  It was about the feeling I get during the run and the feeling I get when I finish.  I felt like I could accomplish anything.  I felt like I had never been happier in my life.

It felt like I was home.

Miles accomplished in the 100 Mile Challenge: 74.75

Miles to go in the 100 Mile Challenge: 25.25

 

A Meaningful December

“How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon.  December is here before it’s June.  My goodness how the time has flewn.  How did it get so late so soon?” ~Dr. Seuss

December is usually the month where people let their hair down.  It’s the month where you can go a little crazy.  People tend to be happier, mostly because of the holidays.  It’s the time to eat, drink and be merry.  It’s the time to get in all our bad habits and bad decisions before the new round of “New Year’s Resolutions” begin.  It may even be when you try to accomplish all the things you set out in last year’s resolutions.
All of the above are true for me, usually.  I use December and the holidays as an excuse to be a little lazier, eat a little more, drink a little more, be a little messy, work out a little less and sleep a little more.  It’s a trap I fall into and then wind up hating myself for by the end of the month.
I decided that I didn’t want to do that this month.  I’m not going to sit around and let myself slowly slide back into complacency.  I have worked too hard the past couple weeks to get myself back to where I need to be, to get myself back on the right track.  Now that I am back on the right track I need to stay there.  No excuses.  So I’m using December as my starting off point for my New Year’s Resolutions.  The best part about a resolutions is that you can make them at any time of the year, month, day, ect.  I think we all get hung on on time that way.  I failed this month, I’ll try again next month.  I already ruined my diet, I’ll start again next Monday.  I didn’t wake up to run, I’ll just try again tomorrow.
But really, if you think about it, the things I want to accomplish are not even New Year’s Resolutions.  They are life changes, life goals, things to make my world a little better.  And really I only have one: Get rid of all the clutter.
Now when I say ALL the clutter, I mean it; physical, emotional, and social.
Physical Clutter:
I have way to much crap.  I realized this when I was cleaning for Thanksgiving.  We have broken toys all around the house.  Things the kids played with once and then never again.  I have shoes and clothes I have not worn in an embarrassing number of years (think pre-kids).  I tend to hold on to things thinking I might need them again.  And sometimes I do.  But most times I don’t.  It’s time to start going through everything and donate the things we don’t want or need anymore and trash or recycle the things that are broken.
Physical Clutter (2):
I feel like now that I actually have my gym routine down I need to keep it there.  Gym in the morning, running at night.  Take a day off only if needed (though with the Running Streak, I have to do it anyway).  No getting on the scale and letting myself get down.  As a matter of fact, no scale at all (I’ll weigh in again on January 1).  Only drink once a week. Eat healthy, but no over analyzing.  If I want the french fry I’ll eat it, I just won’t eat 100 of them.  Everything is OK in moderation.
Emotional Clutter:
It’s time to let go, I mean really let go, of things that I have no control over.  Whether my worries or obsessions are from the past, present or future, it’s time to concentrate on the things that I can actually do something about.  It’s time to move on from the things that, no matter what a do, the outcome won’t change.  And when I do, it’s time to use that new found time to start thinking about the direction I want to go and make it happen.  Do I still want to be a teacher? Do I still want to live in Baltimore?  It’s time to find the answers and get the ball rolling to make them happen.
Social Clutter:
Between Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, my blog, and on and on and on, I know I waste a lot of time.  Just last night, when it was time to go for my run, I was thinking that I just didn’t have time.  But I did.  I just preferred to use that time playing on Facebook or playing candy crush.  Right now, I literally have a Facebook tab open so I can see any new notifications as they come in.  Somethings got to give.  So I think, at least for the month of December, it’s going to be Facebook.  Twitter and Instagram really don’t waste a lot of my time.  Games that I enjoy likes Words with Friends don’t really take more than a moment.  And writing in my blog is sometimes the only sanity I have.  I really do feel like it is addicting at times.  I wish I had the willpower to just say I won’t use it, but I know I don’t.  Maybe once December is over I’ll be able to gradually ease back in, but I don’t know.  It will be interesting to see how well I fair when I can’t facebook stalk people or get offended by political posts, or get jealous when I see people doing things without me.  And really, if people really want to get in touch with me during this month, they will.  And vice versa.  I shouldn’t need to rely on Facebook to stay in people’s lives.
It’s also time to simply stop making a social effort all the time.  I always feel obligated to go to or participate in any event in which I am invited.  And I have to learn to say no.  I have to learn to say no to non-required obligations I don’t feel like attending.  I have to say no when my plate is already full and someone else is asking me to do something.  I have to learn that it’s ok to take time for myself.
I guess that’s it.  I’m dubbing December as “No Clutter December”.  It’s time to start simplifying my life.
In case you need the info since I won’t be on Facebook starting later this evening:
Blog: http://hereswhatimtryingtosay.wordpress.com/
Twitter: @greatcasserini
Instagram: @clstegman
Or you can play me in Words with Friends (Great Casserini) 🙂

Throw Back Sunday (an oldie, but goodie about marriage).

I wrote this post over a year ago on my old blog.  A YEAR AGO.  I identified these problems a year ago and still have not done enough to solve them. 

*Hangs head in shame*

I have been home for the past five days because of Hurricane Sandy.  It’s been nice being able to spend so much time at home and with the kids (really, I’m not being sarcastic).  Of course, every night when they have gone to bed I have spent many hours reading, knitting, and playing on the internet.  I actually started about 5 different blog posts as well, but something made me want to spend more time on this one today.  On one of my MANY Pinterest visits I came across an article called “16 Ways I Blew My Marriage” It was written by a man so I figured I could get a lot of information from it, showing new ways that I am right in our arguments, but my husband was wrong.

As I began reading (and continued through the entire list of 16), I realized this article actually detailed all the ways that I was creating strife and conflict in our marriage.  It really did hit me hard and I have spent a lot of time thinking about this article the past few days. Below are a list of the 10 things from Dan’s article that I identified with the most with an explanation of how I am currently ruining things.  You can find his complete post in the link above.

1. Don’t Stop Holding Hands

I am terrible at this.  We held hands so much in the beginning, but now, not so much, and it is entirely my fault.  I don’t know why.  Maybe it’s the fact that I have two littles vying for my hands now as well?  I don’t know.  Point is, I need to stop thinking that my kids are the only ones that need a little affection.

2. Don’t Stop Trying to Be Attractive

Guilty as charged again.  As a kindergarten teachers most of clothes are practical and stained.  On the week-ends I tend to wind up in khakis and jeans.  I do have make-up and jewelry and nice clothes, which, for some reason I only wear when going  out with friends.  Why?  Again, I don’t know, but maybe if I tried a little harder I would gain the confidence that I seem to be missing as well.

3. Don’t Always Point Out Weaknesses

For some reason I was under the assumption that all my nitpicking was good.  In my head I was challenging him to be a better person.  Now, I realize, I was just tearing down.  I truly believe that spouses are supposed to challenge each other and you should want to be a better person for your spouse, but at what expense?  Not at the expense of love, happiness, and self esteem.

4 & 5. Don’t Yell at Your Spouse or Call Names

This is the number one on my list.  No explanation needed.  I need to stop.  Period. Especially in front of the kids.  Enough said.

6. Don’t be Stingy With Your Money

I do this all the time.  How many times do I spend $7 on a cup of coffee from Starbucks (yup, I said $7) only to yell at him for buying a soda at 7-11.  I know why do it.  I am a control freak.  I need to be in control of EVERYTHING.  Only I don’t.  And I need to sit back, and let go sometimes.

7. Don’t Argue in Front of the Kids

I’m stealing Dan’s words here because I can’t write it better. “There was never any argument that was so important or pressing that we couldn’t wait to have it until the kids weren’t there. I don’t think it takes a rocket scientist or super-shrink to know why fighting in front of the kids is a dangerous and selfish way of doing things.

8. Don’t Encourage Each Other to Skip Working Out

We should want each other to be the best versions of ourselves, and I would hope that he would do the same.  Maybe, though, this is one of those things we can start doing together.

9. Don’t Stop Kissing

I know this isn’t just me and happens to most of my married friends.  When you work full time and have two kids everything becomes a time crunch and I always feel like every minute of every day should be filled doing something useful and kissing simply takes up those minutes. But I have to remember that spending time connecting with my husband is also useful.

10. Don’t Stop Having Fun Together

The kids have great grandparents in the fact that they spend a lot of time over there and are usually gone one night a week.  And what do we do? Watch TV, play on the computer, sleep.  I have to remember that there are a ton of things we can do that don’t require money and would probably help build up our relationship.

So, now the challenge comes to start to make things better.  Identification of the problem is half the battle, right?

The Blind leading the “Blind”

“It is never too late to become what you might have been.” ~George Eliot

This isn’t the original post I was going to write today.  It was actually going to be quite different.  To make a long story short it was going to be about how I failed at running yet again.  I went for a run last night and only managed to make it a mile before I had to quit.  My knee was killing me.  I was mad and angry, not only at myself for not being able to complete what I set out to do, but also at running in general.  I never had plantar fasciitis until I started running.  I never had hip pain before I started running. Now that I have finally gotten those under control and have very little pain, my knee is starting to hurt.  I mean, really, you’ve got to be kidding me.  I though eventually this was supposed to get easier.  I thought eventually it wasn’t going to hurt.  I was about to give up.  And I mean really give up.  Top that off with the fact that the damn scale did not move AGAIN and I was in a pretty aggravated and annoyed mood.

I woke up this morning with a slight “bad mood” hangover.  It was lingering there and I was trying to not let it affect me.  The kids actually let me sleep until 6:15 (shocking!) and then I hit the gym.  I wasn’t feeling much better as I headed up to Monkton to cheer on a friend who was running the NCR Trail Marathon.  I was still feeling sorry for myself when the first runner began to cross where I was at mile marker 5.  And you know what?  He was blind!  He was running with someone else who, I’m guessing, was guiding him when he needed it, but was also holding a cane, just in case.  I was floored and amazed.  It took all my willpower not to run him down and shake his hand.

It wasn’t so much that I was impressed that he was running and he was blind.  I mean, yes, I was, but your eyes really have nothing to do with the muscles that run your body so they don’t directly affect your ability to run.  What I was impressed with was that he was running, when so many people probably told him it was something he couldn’t or shouldn’t do.  He didn’t care what others had to say.  He was going to do what he wanted to anyway, people be damned.

I think that is really one of the key reasons I haven’t really “accomplished” much as a runner.  I still have this deep rooted fear that people are judging me and thinking things like: “how are you a runner?” or “you’re not really a runner unless you can run ____ distance in _____ amount of time” or better yet “You still have to walk some of your 5K?  How does that make you a runner?”  I get turned off and scared thinking that people are always watching me when in reality they really don’t give a crap.

The fear of judgment  leads to the other reason I’m not really getting anywhere as a runner.  I have no consistency in my runs.  I do it one day, and then skip a bunch, or do it three days in a row and take the next week off.  Some days it’s one mile, some days it’s three.  I’m letting my mood affect how and when I run and if I really want to be a “runner” I’m going to have to power through the too tired and too annoyed days as well.  That’s why I’m doing this “Running Streak” from Runner’s World.  It will make me run every day.  Sometimes it will only be a mile, some days it will be more.  But the bottom line is, I have to do it no matter what.

I need to get over the labels.  I need to get over the need for others approval of my running, or how I look when running, or how far or fast I run.  Why do I feel like I have to be good? I don’t.  Odds are I’m never going to be a great runner.  Odds are I’m never going to complete a marathon.  I’m slow, I have bad feet (flat feet, and bunions, and plantar fasciitis, oh my!).  I’m still pretty heavy (which doesn’t help the other two.)  But I like it, it makes me feel good afterwards, and that’s all that matter; how I feel about myself and about my running.

So, as much as I didn’t really want to, as much as my knee hurt, I laced up the running shoes, threw on the head phones and ran out the door at 6:30 pm tonight.  It was cold and my mile was super slow.  But I did it and I’m glad I did.  I won’t ever regret making the run, though I know I will regret missing one.

I sang quietly to myself as I ran through the pain.  If you think about it, that’s how this all began, running through the pain of not liking myself very much.  Running through the pain of bad decisions.  Running through the pain of needing more out of my life.  Running through the pain of needing to feel something, anything.

That’s how this all began but that’s not how it will end.

 

Mind Over Matter

“We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think.  When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.” ~Buddha
I’m constantly psyching myself out and I don’t know why.  I sure a lot of it has to do with not having high expectations.  If I don’t think I can accomplish something and I DON’T accomplish it, I’m no worse off than I was before.  On the other hand, if I was sure I could do it, and it turns out I can’t, I’m in for a world of disappointment.
I did and I didn’t want to go running today.  It was freezing.  As in, literally freezing.  I haven’t run in the cold yet and all I wanted to do was sit in my house, snuggled up on my couch with the little ones watching a movie.  Plus, according to my couch to 5K app, I am officially done with interval running as of today.  No more breaks, no more walking.  I know the other reason I didn’t want to run was because I assumed that I would not make it the whole 22 minutes.  Sure, I had done 20 minutes once before, but that could have been a fluke.  It was nicer weather, I ran on flat ground (no hills), etc.  The list goes on and on.  I just knew that I didn’t want to fail at this.
But I did want to run too.  I love the feeling of accomplishment I get after I run and actually complete something.  I love being able to really see how far I’d come beyond pants sizes and numbers on a scale.  I love thinking back to when I first started couch to 5K months ago and quit so many times.  Back to when I couldn’t even imagine running for 5 minutes at a time.  Back to when thinking I could run a mile without stopping was a joke.
So, I made myself go out anyway.  And you know what?  I did it.  I ran my 22 minutes.  Sure, I was cold and uncomfortable.  Sure I was painfully slow, but who the hell cares.  I did it.  And I know that I could do it again.
Sometimes, you just have to tell your self to shut up.  Even if you are continually telling yourself you can’t do something, go out and do it anyway.

Miles accomplished in the 100 Mile Challenge: 71.25

Miles to go in the 100 Mile Challenge: 28.75

Weeks Left: 5

My Latent Love (an old post about Oliver)

Here is a post a wrote about Ollie in January 2012 on an older blog.  I loved it so much I felt like I needed to share it again…

My little O is about to turn one in just twelve short days.  I have really been reflecting on this lately because, as I look back, I can’t believe how far we’ve come and what we’ve overcome together.

M has always been considered and probably always will be considered my little miracle baby.  Born after 2 losses, arriving almost six weeks early, it was hard not to love him at first sight.  This was something I had worked so hard to obtain, not just for for nine months, but for the three years before he was born as well.  He looked exactly like me and we were inseparable since our first day together.   And, in all honesty, we still are.  We are two peas in a pod, cut from the same cloth.  Our personalities are so in sync that at times it is hard to figure out where I end and he begins.  There is, of course, a bond between father and son, but not quite like the one we share.

In opposition, being pregnant with O felt like a chore.  I know it had  a lot to do with having a toddler already, having to keep it a secret because we lived with my in laws at the time, and spending all my time worrying about where we were going to live, how we were going to pay for things, etc, but still I wanted it to be over.  I was ready for him to be born and ready to get the “parenting two under two” show going.

When he was born, he was absolutely perfect in every way a baby could be, but I was still worried.  Not about him because he was everyone’s favorite, but about M and how we would take it.  I know I should have been more worried about O, trying to spend more time with him, but I felt like, for some reason, he didn’t need me as much.  He had daddy, and the grandparents, everyone fawning all over him and all I could think about was how to make sure M was included in all of the newness and excitement.

I know moms that will sugar coat things and say that bringing a new baby into the fold was easy and natural, but I’m not going to lie.  From the minute we walked in that door and we were all left alone it was hard.  Taking care of two in a tiny house was insane.  Having no income at all while on maternity leave was a nightmare.  O was sick a lot and in turn we were all sick.  My sleep suffered.  My marriage suffered, everything seemed to be changing and I really wasn’t ready for it to.

My siblings and I are completely different, so I don’t know why I thought that O would be easy just like his brother.  There were/are so many differences, even from the beginning.  O wanted a lot of attention.  He loved to be held and be around people, especially his brother.  He was noisy and cried a lot and ate a lot, and was a terrible sleeper (still is!)

But with all of that came his smile, his huge blue eyes, and his ability to find joy and laugh at everything.  My day doesn’t feel complete if O isn’t up to say goodbye to me in the morning.  No matter what kind of day I am having, seeing him run to greet me when I come home with that huge smile on his face is all I need to change my day around completely.  He is definitely daddy’s boy, through and through, but I know we have something too, a connection that only a mom and son could have.  It may have taken a little while, but now I realize that I would not be able to function if he were not here with us.  He is the puzzle piece in the middle…the one without which you have no idea what the picture actually is, the one that keeps everyone together.

At first I felt guilty about these feelings I had, like I wasn’t a good enough mother for some reason because my heart did not burst full of love the minute I conceived, but I know that I shouldn’t.  My love for O grew a little bit each day and I know that even now it is not done growing.  Today I can say I love him to the moon and back, but that’s just because we don’t know what they will discover past the moon in the future.

What the F**k?

“You’ve done it before and you can do it now.  See the positive possibilities.  Redirect the substantial energy of your frustration and turn it into positive, effective, and unstoppable determination.” ~Ralph Marston

Most of the time I try to stay positive.  Most of the time I try to simply find some sort of bright side or silver lining.  And usually I can.

I’ve worked out every day this week.  Gym 6 times, running 3 times.  Eaten pretty healthy (or at least I thought so, definitely healthier than I had been).  I could feel the changes (my muscles weren’t as tight, my knees didn’t hurt quite as much).  I knew I was doing it right.

But today, seriously, what the fuck?  I mean, really?!?!  I decided I should go ahead and get on the scale since it had been a week.  I wasn’t expecting much change.  Just a little, maybe, to let me know I was moving in the right direction.  I know I am moving in the right direction.  But do you know what ISN’T moving in the right direction?  The damn scale.  Because somehow, after all my hard work, I am UP two pounds.  So, I ask you again, WHAT THE FUCK?

I try not to let the numbers on the scale define me.  I try to tell myself to look at the overall picture.  Clothes are getting loser, energy level is going up, runs have become a lot easier (still hard, but easier than when I first started).  I *know* I am moving forward.  I know I am moving in a positive direction.  I know the numbers on the scale don’t paint the whole picture.  But come on.  Help me out a little.  Give me something tangible, something in “writing” to show me I am doing a good job.

I’m not going to let this moment define my day like I would have a long time ago.  I’m not going to give up and think “why bother now” like I would have a long time ago.  And that’s progress.  I know that’s progress.

But really, come on!

End rant.