hope

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.

Another Old Post…This time about Max.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

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.

A Meaningful December

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“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) 🙂

The Blind leading the “Blind”

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“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

/ Cassie / 1 Comment
“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

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

What the hell am I doing?

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Bottom line is, even if you see ’em coming, you’re not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really. But it does. So what are we, helpless? Puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come. You can’t help that. It’s what you do afterwards that counts. That’s when you find out who you are.” ~Joss Whedon

I had my formal observation at school today.  Normally I am nervous and fret about it for days on end.  I can’t sleep the night before, I stay late in my classroom every night cleaning and getting ready, I spend hours writing my lesson plan.  Not this time.  I spent maybe 20 minutes on my lesson plan, stayed maybe an hour later the night before cleaning up and slept like drunk (though I was not) last night.

You might think it was because in the four years I have been working in public schools I have learned a lot, gained more confidence, and understand the value of growing as a teacher.  You might think it is because I have a complete understanding of my students and their needs, and what I, as their teacher, need to do to meet those needs.  You might even think that I’m simply amazing at my job so there was never a need to worry in the first place.

None of this is true.  Not one bit of it.

The fact of the matter is I simply don’t care.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I am pretty good at my job.  My children learn.  Everyone is alive at the end of the day.  I still continue to go above and beyond what is expected of me.  But really, I think it’s because those things are ingrained in me.  I have a strong work ethic.  I will never just quit and walk away when other people are counting on me, nor will I simply not do what I am getting paid to do.  But I just don’t care anymore.  I don’t really like teaching.

I was at an Arts Everyday meeting with a friend the other day (on my own time, not getting paid) and we were listening to this person behind us who was obviously new, or at least relatively new, to teaching.  He was going on and on about all these programs he wanted to start, how he’s in it for the kids, basically that this job and the children in his class are his reason for getting up every morning; his reason for living.  All I could think was that this is a clear sign that I shouldn’t be doing this job anymore.  None of these things applied to me.  Yes, I used to be that idealistic and love my job and love my kids.  Pretty much as recently as last year I knew (thought) that this is what I was meant to be doing and I couldn’t see myself doing anything else ever.

But things have changed.  Something in me has changed.

I don’t like waking up every morning spending my day with this eager little people.  In fact, most days I loathe it.  I hate the fact that I spend more time with (and on) these children than I do my own.  I hate the fact that my children get the brunt of my bad days because I’ve listened to whining and tattling all day so when I get home I literally explode when my own children do it.  I’m upset over the fact that I used to have so much idealism, used to believe I could “be the change you wish to see in the world” and now I’m just happy if I make it through the day without having to call a parent and pray none of them text me for some insane reason.

But mostly, I simply hate the fact that I don’t care.  I wish I liked my job.  But not liking it has lead to not caring and really, it’s not fair.  It’s not fair to me because I am miserable.  It’s not fair to the people around me who I make miserable because they have to deal with me being miserable.  It’s not fair to the kids who really, for the most part, didn’t do anything wrong.  It’s not fair to the teachers who don’t have a job, because I’m selfishly taking this one and I don’t even want it.

So, really, what does all this mean?  I means I need to look for a new job.  I mean really and truly look for a new job.  No more thinking I’m going to and then getting lazy because I make pretty good money and have great benefits.  Frankly, it’s not worth it anymore.  I have to stop sacrificing my happiness.  Ever since the end of last year, ever since the summer, I feel like I have been simply going through the motions, not being completely here or there.  It’s like I’ve been holding on to something I shouldn’t have, been waiting for someone or something else to come along and make this decision or change for me. And I have to stop.  I have to let go.  I have to move on from whatever it is.

I have to grow up, put on my big girl panties, and make some real choices.

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.

Dear Me: Man Up!

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Those who say life is knocking them down and giving them a tough time are usually the first to beat themselves up. Be on your own side.” ~Rasheed Ogunlaru

Why do I keep doing this to myself?  I feel like I have written this blog post 1,000 times before.  I get on a good streak with my running (or “running” as I like to say) and realize I am feeling great, I am happier, I’m ready to move forward and forge ahead, and then all of the sudden…BAM!  I just stop.  I don’t go to the gym.  I don’t run.  I eat pretty crappy.  I make up excuse after excuse after excuse for why I’m not doing anything, and then get super pissed when I don’t see results, or the pounds move down, or I’m feeling tired and cranky.

I feel like I’m constantly on a “one week on, one week off” kind of cycle and it’s killing me.  Why was it so much easier in the beginning, when I was 45 pounds heavier, to say no to that piece of cake, or that glass of wine, or to get my butt to the gym?  Is it because the results were so much more glaring?  Is it because I had people noticing the results and commenting on them?  Is it because I don’t have anyone going through this ordeal with me this time?  I had so much support back in the beginning and now I just feel like I am going at it alone.  Have I not mastered the art of telling myself to get out the door?  Have I not mastered the art of telling myself to put down the damn fork?

I don’t know what it is, but I have to start inspiring myself.  I have to start motivating myself.  I have to start being my own inspiration.

Because I can do this.

I know I can do this.

I have to do this.

Run, Forrest, Run!

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“The miracle isn’t that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start.” ~John Bingham

So, it seems like maybe, just maybe, it’s actually getting easier.  The running thing, that is.  I don’t know what it is, but my last two runs were really good.  Did I just want to stay in bed when the alarm went off?  Absolutely!  Did I feel like I was going to die during my Couch to 5K workouts?  You bet!  Did I feel absolutely amazing when I actually finished? Yes Yes Yes!  I feel like I have finally gotten my pacing down and even my uphill running didn’t bother me like it usually does.  My legs felt lighter and I felt like I could go for longer that I normally do.  All in all, I felt like maybe I was an actual runner, and not someone pretending to be one.

I’m not sure what the change was.  Maybe my body is finally getting used to the early mornings and the pounding of the pavement.  Maybe it’s the stretching I’m doing every night to help with the plantar fasciitis.  Maybe it’s the fact that I feel like I’m feeling getting somewhere with this running thing.  I just finished week 4 of couch to 5K.  Every other time I started this (cough 4 times) I never got past week 4 day 1 before I decided to quit running.

But maybe, just maybe, it’s because I have stopped putting so much pressure on myself about the whole thing.  A few weeks ago, when I was naive enough to think I knew what I was doing, I ran a 10 minute mile.  Of course, after that, I could barely walk a 20 minute mile because my body was soooooo tired.  When I couldn’t recreate that 10 minute mile every time I walked out of the house I started to get discouraged and really felt like giving up.  I was never going to beat that 10 minutes mile, so why try?  But, why do I have to “beat” any kind of time?  Why can’t I just run and enjoy myself?  In the grand scheme of the world, is the time of my mile important?  I have short legs and a short stride.  I am never going to be “fast”.  And this is OK.

Another example: A few days ago I started to get really nervous about The Color Run coming up in Baltimore on the 17th.  My goal was to be able to run the whole thing.  Now, I’m thinking I won’t quite be there yet.  I started to feel defeated and, quite honestly, like a failure.  But why?  Am I not going to attempt to run the whole thing?  Of course I am.  Am I going to be going at a snail’s pace?  Of course I am.  But I don’t have to feel bad if I have to walk part of it.  This whole “thing” is a process.  It’s not something I simply wanted to accomplish, check off a list, and then move on to something else.  I actually want to be in this for the long haul.  I want to be able to make this an integral part of my life for as long as I can.  And, you know what?  3.1 miles is 3.1 miles whether I walk it or run it.  It’s still 3.1 miles more than if I just stayed on the couch.

I have also been feeling defeated because the numbers on the scale ARE NOT moving.  It seems like no matter what I do, it really likes the number I’m on right now.  But then I saw a picture of me taken almost a year and a half ago.  Before I even considered working out.  Before I could run more than a minute without almost throwing up.  Before I could last more than 3 minutes on the elliptical (I kid you not, my actual first workout on the elliptical lasted 3 minutes and I was dying by the end of it).  I put it next to a picture I took on Sunday before my run.

And with this picture I realized that I really don’t care about the number on the scale or the number of my pants size.  Even when I don’t think I am getting anywhere, I am.  A picture it worth 1,000 words.  And I feel like most of mine, in this moment, have to do with feeling awesome for what I have accomplished.

Miles to go in the 100 Mile Challenge: 46.25

Image