depression

Honestly So…

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

This is hard.  Harder than I thought.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so sad.  Or so defeated.  Or so alone.

One minute I have the utmost conviction that this is what I am supposed to do…that this is what I need to do.

To save our family.  To save us.  To save me.

And the next minute I think, maybe this is my lot in life…the idea of almost.

Almost happy.  Almost in love.  Almost understanding.

Today was not a good day, but I held it together.

And for now, that’s more than enough.

In fact, it’s all I can do.

What defines us…

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have – life itself.” ~ Walter Anderson

It’s been a long time since I wrote a post.  Too long.  I really have no excuse.  I seem to form a million posts in my head every day but they never make it down.  Things have been busy, school was ending, and a million little things kept piling up and it was hard to keep my head above water most days.

I did accomplish something though…I ran my first 10k.  I won’t go into too much detail here because that is a post in itself but it was hard, scary, amazing, wonderful and a million other things all rolled into one.  It was the most fantastic accomplishment I have to date and has actually made me a little excited about tackling the half marathon in October.

I posted a few pictures to Facebook earlier today and although I live with myself every day, it’s crazy to see the changes that are happening, especially within the last year.  I run everyday. I’m in the best shape of my life. I’ve never felt better.  I have made so many lifestyle changes that I can’t help but be proud of all I have accomplished.  And yet…

There are other things I know I still need to focus on.  Character, emotional instability, and simply overall personality.

I tend to get angry too easily, and sometimes for reasons even I can’t identify.  I yell too much, and usually at the people who love me the most. At times I can be completely and utterly selfish…forgetting that it’s not just me in my life anymore, but that I’m also a wife and a mother.  I tend to push people away and challenge them too much…and not in a good way. Most days I am simply too much; too overbearing, too emotional, too demanding.  A tornado when most people can only handle a rainy day.  A hurricane when most people only want a light breeze.

And the worst part of it all?  I know most people can’t handle it.  But I still fault them anyway.  And the ones that can handle it?  I don’t cherish them as much as I should.

I seem to have the physical changes down…but maybe it’s time I start working on the other aspects of my life.

Because what’s the point in moving forward if I have no one to share my life with?

The truth will set you free

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom.” ~Thomas Jefferson

I began writing in this blog as a way to get all the random thoughts out of my head, but also as a way to tell my story.  But as I look back, I realize I haven’t necessarily been upfront and honest.  I haven’t necessarily given all the facts and explained the whole situation. Mostly, this is due to fear. And judgement from people.  And to be perfectly frank, I’m tired of hiding behind fear.

I guess you could say it all began with a trip to Oregon.  At first I was excited.  A trip to the West Coast with a bunch of friends from work and a few days off from the kids to go along with it.  What’s not to love?

Then I remembered that I would have to take an airplane.  Then I remembered I would have to fit into an airplane seat and buckle my seat belt.  Then I remembered every single article I have ever come across about airlines who kick people off the plane for being too fat.  Then I remembered that maybe I would miss my kids and I shouldn’t go after all.

I belonged to a gym, joined in some arbitrary moment of “I can do this!” but at that point my workouts consisted of the 5 minutes I could stand on the elliptical or treadmill and then 30 minutes on the sit down bike.  Throw in a couple of easy strength exercises on the machines, and I thought I was actually accomplishing something.  The fear of getting on the plane and being embarrassed in front of people I had to work with motivated me to do something I had never done before…buy a scale.

After searching for what seemed like hours at a K-mart next to the gym, I finally found one.  I raced home, carried it up to the bathroom, and after ripping off every ounce of clothing and all hair accessories that could add weigh, I gingerly stepped on the scale.

331.

No, that is not a typo.  That was the actual number.  And while I didn’t want it to be true, I knew it was.  I sat down on the bathroom floor and cried for about 10 minutes.  How had it gotten this bad?  How had I let myself get this far gone?  Once I got control of myself, I got up, got dressed, and came up with a plan.  That summer I worked my butt off and in two months (right before my flight) I had lost 20 pounds.  I know that’s not a lot, but to me it was everything.  It represented that I could actually do this.

Long story short, they didn’t kick me off the plane, though I did need a seat belt extender.  But the heart wrenching fear I felt as I approached that first plane was probably the worst in my life. I didn’t sleep for nearly a week.  I vowed that I would continue working out when I got home and would get myself to a healthy place.

And I did.  For awhile. Until once again, life got in the way.  That fall I worked out here and there, but nothing significant.  Between two kids under 3, teaching kindergarten, and trying to be a good wife and mother, I never seemed to find time for the gym.  Finally in January, after realizing I had gained back 12 pounds (bringing me back up to 321) a friend and I decided to sign up for the Y-fit challenge (the YMCA’s version of the biggest loser).  And through that I fell in love with working out.  I lost about 35 pounds, completed my first 5-K and began to gain back some of the confidence I so desperately needed.

And then, as most stories go, my world turned upside down.  During the summer (on my last day of school) my dad died.  We had a rather tumultuous relationship (see posts from then) and I didn’t think it would really affect me.  But it did.  In ways that I will never quite understand.  And the gym took a back burner yet again.  Luckily, I only gained about 5 pounds, but by the time school started again, I was a jumbled wreck.  I didn’t know what was up or down or right or wrong.  All I knew was that I needed something to change.  I needed to be saved.

So I went for a run.  And really, that is the true beginning of my story.  Because on that day I was reborn.  I learned that I can decide how my life is going to go.  I am in charge of myself, my decisions, and my happiness.  I can decide to begin to heal, and grow, and change for the better.  And I did. Or, at the very least I’m in the process.

Over the months I ran occasionally, went to the gym, got injured, and then began again and again.  In January, on the eve of my 33 birthday, I hit my 50 pound mark (60 if you count from my pre-plane freak out weight).  And I’m still going.

I was looking back on old pictures today.  Pictures from pre-kids, pictures from post-kids, pictures from last year, last week, last month and I can’t believe the difference.  It’s not even just the weight, but the confidence, the happiness, the fact that there are more pictures now than there were before.  These are all indicators that maybe this time is the right time.  Maybe I’m finally exactly where I need to be.

And at 269 pounds I am currently running 15 miles a week and training for my first half marathon in the fall.  While I still have so far to go, I’ve never felt better.  I’m ready to begin this new chapter in my life.

I had to start and stop, begin and end, give up and keep going, numerous times to get to this point.

But if I can do it, so can anyone.  If I can do it, so can you.

2009-2013

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The last 10 months…

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“The time has come,” the Walrus said, “To talk of many things”

/ Cassie / 1 Comment

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.”  ~Marilyn Monroe

I really do love this time of year.  I used to think it had to do with idea of Christmas, family, presents, lights, and all the other things that go along with the season.  Yes, these things play a small part in the overall feeling of contentment I get during December, but they are not all encompassing.  I always thought my favorite holiday was Christmas, but it wasn’t until this year that I realized it is not.

My favorite holiday is New Years and for so many reasons.  Honestly, I am big fan of New Years Resolutions.  While I agree that you can begin a resolution at any time and you should never wait to change something you truly believe in, there is something so wonderful about the year ticking over to a new new number.  It’s almost as if New Years Day is a form baptism.  With the change of a number, the mistakes and regrets and uncomfortable feelings cease to exist, making it that much easier to start fresh and anew.  With the rip of a calendar page the whole world can begin again. You can set goals, make new decisions, basically become the person you have been waiting to become.

The other day I looked back on a New Years Eve post that I wrote as 2011 rolled into 2012.  2012 was the year, I decided with a vengeance, that I would have no regrets.  No matter what decision or choice I made, I would go with it, own up to it, and if it didn’t work out, I would roll with the punches.  Needless to say, this did not happen.  I still have a lot of trouble letting go, moving on, and not dwelling on past mistakes and regrets.  But really, in hindsight, this was a terrible resolution to make simply because the failure rate was astronomical.  While I can learn to take my regrets in stride, they will always occur.  It’s how I handle the feelings of regret that is the important part.

I think the reason I am looking forward to this New Years more than any other holiday is because, for the most part, 2013 sucked.  And I don’t mean in an “Oh I dropped my ice cream cone on the ground” kind of way.  I mean in a real, traumatic, life changing kind of way.  The most obvious thing is, of course, my father passing, which lead to a downward spiral of depression, but there was also going through the IEP process with Max, learning nothing was “wrong” with Max, but people made me think there was, a very rough school year last year, money problems, marriage issues, losing a car, and probably a myriad of other small things, that when pieced together were a recipe for disaster.

But this year, it will be different, if for no other reason than it has to be.  I can’t go through another year like last year.  In all honestly, I don’t think I would survive.  I think that because of everything that has happened this year I have grown and changed.  I’m not the same person that I was 365 days ago, and I couldn’t be happier with that.

I don’t have all of my specific resolutions figured out quite yet, but I do know the overarching theme.  Basically, I just need to be myself.  So many of my problems seem to stem from me hiding who I really am or even not allowing myself to shine too brightly in front of others.  I keep thinking that I don’t know who I am, but really I do, I’m just too scared of judgement to always show it.  There are all things we need to work on and change within ourselves, but sometimes, it’s ok to let the weird shine a little bit.

In so many ways I know who I am. I tend to have too many emotions and too often, the way I express them is over the top.  I cry too much, feel too much, love too hard, get jealous when I shouldn’t, and have a terrible temper. I’m loyal, but cautious.  I don’t always believe the best in people, and I’ve been proven right.  These are simply things I am not going to apologize for anymore.  I shouldn’t have to apologize for my feelings because they are real and a part of who I am, and the way I feel is important.  I need to stop worrying about constantly being judged.

Judgement seems to come at all times, even when we are doing something to better ourselves or set out in the right direction.  I think that is part of the reason I never really got anywhere with my running.  Sure, I improved, but I definitely didn’t try as hard as I could.  Basically, it was because I wouldn’t allow myself to take myself seriously and this was a mistake.  I was so worried people were going to judge me: Why does she think she can be a runner?  She’s not a real runner.  Why are you buying another pair of running shoes, you’re not a real runner…you’re like a really fast walker.  These are all thoughts that I thought other people were going to say about me because these are all thoughts that I was saying to myself.

Yes, I’m probably never going to run a marathon.  Yes, I’m pretty slow. Yes, there are a million reasons why I shouldn’t be running.  But I am.  And I like it.  And that’s all that matters.  And I don’t need to apologize for it.

I’m allowed to try hard.  I’m allowed to be good at things. Hell, I’m allowed to be bad at things.  I’m allowed to love you too much and tell you about it.  I’m also allowed to tell you why you are hurting my feelings if you are.  I’m allowed to take a break from people who aren’t letting me be me and are constantly trying to put me down to make themselves feel better.  I’m allowed to be who I am, and if someone doesn’t like it, it’s their loss.  I actually think I’m pretty awesome sometimes.

2014: The year of being me.

Best not to leave a trail of breadcrumbs this time…

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

**I wrote this post almost two weeks ago, but didn’t realize I hadn’t published it.**

“Go back?” he thought. “No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!” So up he got, and trotted along with his little sword held in front of him and one hand feeling the wall, and his heart all of a patter and a pitter.” ~J.R.R. Tolkien – The Hobbit

Made it to the gym today.  It felt good to get back into the swing of things after quite a few days off.  My knee and my shin hurts, but it was worth it.  I only did 30 minutes of cardio, but it was 30 minutes more than I would have done just sitting around my house with a sick kid, a cranky kid, and a tired husband.  My workout today made me realize just how far I’ve come since I started working out; farther than I ever thought I could.

My last post was about how, even though time has passed, I haven’t changed.  I still have the same thoughts, insecurities, obsessions, emotions, that I have been working so hard to change.  Today was a good day; a great day even.  Across the board (family, work, friends) I have no complaints.  I was in a great mood.  I accomplished a lot, and generally, felt all around elevated.

At this point, though, it’s hard to be optimistic.  It seems like every time I get to this point, the point of feeling happy and together and simply ready to live, something happens to drag me back down.  If I could pinpoint what it was it would make it a little easier to avoid, but I can’t.  It’s something subtle that I really can’t discern, almost as if the moon was shifting or the tide was turning.  It’s something just big enough to make me topsy turvey, but not big enough to be seen with the naked eye.

I joke about how I will never be lost, never lose who I know I am because I always find my way back to that place, a place I really don’t want to be.  When I was able to run I felt so much happier.  It may be because the more I ran, the farther I got from the place of sadness.  But now I have to rely only on the gym and only on the machines that mimic movement but never take you anywhere.

I sometimes wonder if part of the reason I always find my way back to complacency and sadness is because it’s what I know.  It feels comfortable and this is what I know how to do.  The feeling of sadness and depression is one that has been a part of me for a long time.  It’s familiar, I can’t mess it up, and once you’re down there’s a shorter fall to rock bottom.

I realize the best path to change and happiness is the one that I am going to really work for.  It’s the one that is a slow incline, with roots and sticks to trip over, but it will be less likely that I fall down a steep and slippery slope.

Taking the shorter, easier, way out hasn’t been working for me.  It’s about time I suck it up and really work for what I want.

How nothing and everything has changed…

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“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…

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“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.

Starting as one thing, ending as another

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“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

 

Progress is progress, no matter how small.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“We all have dreams, in order to make dreams come into reality, it takes an awful lot of determination, dedication, self-discipline and effort.”~Jesse Owens

Today was Color Run day.  My original goal was to be able to run the whole thing.  Guess what?  I didn’t.  Not even close.  I did manage to run more than half of it, but once I started, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to do the whole thing.  Months ago, this would have made me feel like a failure and give up before I even started.  But not today.

This is the first *real* 5K where I felt like I actually showed some progress. It was hard.  And my feet and legs hurt.  But it didn’t feel like it took forever.  It felt so much easier (not easy, just easier) than the other ones I have done.  And I didn’t immediately want to die afterwards.  Sit down, yes.  Die, no.  And my, oh, my, the amount of pride I felt in myself when I finished it was absolutely priceless.  Just when I think I can’t accomplish something, I surprise myself.

Just to show you what I mean by progress, here are my 5K times from the last four 5Ks including the one from today.

September 5K: 59 Minutes
October 5K: 66 Minutes (don’t even ask)
November 5K (1): 51 Minutes (around my block for World Run Day, but still a *paid for* 5K)
November 5K (2): 41 Minutes

In a month, I have improved 25 minutes!  I mean, that is amazing for me.  Today, even with run/walking, I averaged a 13:33 minute mile.  I know to some, that’s not much, but to me, that is everything.  I am constantly feeling like I am getting no where with this running thing.  I don’t feel faster when I run at home, my weight is pretty stagnant, every muscle in my body still hurts every time I run.  But today, the numbers didn’t lie.  And while I may not be a *real runner*, while the idea of running anything other than a 5K makes me shudder in fear (10K gasp!, half marathon eek!), I am getting better.  I am moving forward.  I am doing this.

And the best part is I am doing it myself.  I do have an amazing support system, don’t get me wrong.  I have friends who cheer me on at the finish line (Hi Doe!), friends who sign up for every race with me so I don’t have to do it alone (Hi Sara!), friends who run marathons, but still know how much it takes for me to complete a 5K and cheer for me harder than anyone else (Hi Jean!) and a husband who kicks me out of bed when the alarm goes off because he knows I’ll be crabbier if I don’t get up to go run (Hi Mike!). But for the most part, it’s just me, out there at 5 am running alone, lost with my music, with no one to push me to make me keep going.  And I do keep going.  Because this is something I need.  This is something that is saving me.  With every step I take forward I gain a renewed confidence in my self, a new reason to keep living.  And even when I have to take some time off, there is no one step forward, two steps back, because no matter what, I will continue to go forward.

I realize when I first started running I was running away from something.  Running away from bad decisions that I had recently made.  Running away from a life I didn’t want anymore.  Running away from myself.

Today was a turning point.  I no longer feel like I am running away from something.  I know that I am running toward something, and I’m not slowing down or giving up any time soon.

Miles accomplished in the 100 Mile Challenge: 66.75

Miles to go in the 100 Mile Challenge: 33.25

Weeks Left: 6

But, what if I fail?

/ Cassie / 2 Comments

“I honestly think it is better to be a failure at something you love than to be a success at something you hate.” ~George Burns

So, yesterday my Couch 2 5K program changed from running 5 minutes to running 8 minutes.  When I saw that I got scared.  I felt like there was no way in the world I was going to be able to run for 8 minutes…twice!  But, in the end I did it.  I couldn’t believe it.  I am very rarely impressed with myself, but I was pretty impressed when I could.  It was even better when I realized that the longer I ran, the easier it got, even the up hill parts.  I started to think that maybe I would be able to go for more that 8 minutes.  Hey!  Maybe I could even go for 10 minutes!  I was on top of the world!  I’ve got this!

For the first time ever, I actually felt like maybe I was really doing this; really becoming a runner.  For the first time ever I didn’t feel like I wanted to die afterwards.  For the first time ever I felt like maybe this was really the sport for me.  Maybe this was my saving grace.

Then I opened my Couch 2 5K app to see what my run is supposed to be like tomorrow.  Run 20 minutes.  Run 20 minutes?  Run 20 freaking minutes! Are you kidding me? Seriously?  How the hell do you go from “run 8 minutes” to “run 20 minutes”?!?!?!  Didn’t we leave out a few steps in this process?  How about run 10 minutes?  How about run 15 minutes?  How am I supposed to do this?

What I realized, though, is that I am not actually afraid of doing the activity.  I’m afraid of how I’ll feel when if I fail.  Will this make me lose focus?  Will this make me depressed?  Will this make me give up?

I don’t want these things to happen, and I know, deep down, that I will keep going, but I don’t want to get derailed again.  I’m so tired of feeling like I can’t accomplish things in my life.  I am so tired of getting knocked off my path only to have to restart and repeat things over and over again.

I get it.  It’s mind over matter and I have to stop psyching myself out.  I have to think positively.

Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to run the whole 20 minutes.

Maybe I’ll make it after all.

Maybe.