defeat

The Forgotten Thank You

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“We met for a reason.  You’re either a blessing or a lesson.” ~Frank Ocean

There are very few things we do without the help of others.  Many times there’s the “overt help”, the help you can see and understand, the type of help that never masks itself as anything other than help.  It’s help simplified or help understood.  We can take it at face value for what it is.

Then there’s the other kind of help.  The help that swoops in wearing a mask.  The help that may take days, or weeks, or even years to show itself.  The help that you are fairly certain is actually not help at all.

This help comes in so many forms: toxic friendships, heart break, depression, fear.  At first, these things are a negative force in our life, ripping us apart from the inside out, tearing us down so much that we believe we may never be able to build ourself up again.  We believe there is no way for us to ever be whole.

But you know what I’ve learned? This is sometimes the best kind of help.  While it may change our lives drastically, many times we come out the other side a little worse for the wear, but seemingly better overall. This is the kind of help that forces us to make decisions, make changes, face our demons.  This is the kind of help that not only changes who we are, but makes us who we are.

Usually we vilify those people who change our lives in this way.  We feel that that they’ve taken some essential part from us and we yearn to get it back, to make ourselves who we once were.  But for me, at least today, I want to say thank you.

Thank you to the toxic friends, without whomI never would have discovered some of the truly amazing people in my life.

Thank you to the those who have caused substantial heartbreak, without which I never would have found running.

Thank you to the depression that has overtaken me on numerous occasions, without which I never would have known how wonderful simple joys can be.

It’s time to put the past behind me and move forward, embracing everything that’s gotten me where I am today, both positive and negative.

I finally think I’m ready.

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Yesterday was a good day.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Running is like life, it’s a long journey, but well worth it.” ~Unknown

I needed yesterday. More than you know.

I woke up at 3:30 in the morning with the lovely pregnancy insomnia that has plagued me for weeks. It was also our first day without a delay or a day off in a week so the thought of working a full day was already tiring. When I couldn’t get back to sleep I decided just to get up and go for a run.

I hadn’t run in over a month and the entire month I felt off. February was rough. I had an extremely short temper with pretty much anyone that came in contact with me. I was angry, hostile, bitter. I felt like I hated the world. I felt like a terrible parent, a terrible wife, and a terrible friend. I blamed these feelings on the pregnancy and on the hormones, but really, what I think happened was that I just didn’t run.

Running has always been my therapy. As a kindergarten teacher and a mother, I don’t get much time to myself. Add pregnancy into the mix and most of the time that I had to myself had me being way too tired to do anything anyway.

I could tell you why I stopped for a month. I could tell you it was because the doctor recommended it (which she did, a least until 36 weeks), or because I was too busy, or because I was too tired. And for the most part all of these things are true. But the real reasons I stopped are far more shallow. I didn’t have a real goal to work towards to I slacked off. I got tired of seeing my mile times increase and increase some more. I got tired of seeing the scale go up incrementally.

So I stopped. I figured what’s the point. I would just sit around for the next few weeks and be lazy and grow a baby.

But what I’ve found is that I can’t stop. I need running. Like I need air. Like I need food. Like I need my family. I need it like my life depends on it. Because for all intents and purposes, it does.

So yesterday was important. Yes, I was more tired and sore than normal. But it didn’t matter. For the first time in a month I felt like me again. I felt positive. I felt ready. I felt alive.

So it’s time. It’s time to stop worrying about my time. It’s time to stopping thinking, period, and just run. Because you never know what amazing things lie on the horizon. And I know whatever they are, I can conquer them with my eyes wide open and my heart ready for anything.

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Hello. My name is quitter.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Life is painful and messed up. It gets complicated at the worst of times, and sometimes you have no idea where to go or what to do. Lots of times people just let themselves get lost, dropping into a wide open, huge abyss. But that’s why we have to keep trying. We have to push through all that hurts us, work past all our memories that are haunting us. Sometimes the things that hurt us are the things that make us strongest. A life without experience, in my opinion, is no life at all. And that’s why I tell everyone that, even when it hurts, never stop yourself from living.” ~Alysha Speer

I’m feeling lost and have no idea how I am going to find myself again. I feel transient, almost as if I am actually just on the outside looking in. I used to feel so put together. I used to feel like I had a purpose. I used to feel whole. I used to know who I was and now I simply have no clue.

I’ve been feeling this way for a while.  The more I try to think about why I’m feeling this way, the more confused and lost I feel.

It may have to do with being pregnant.   I have to admit, when I first found out I was pregnant I wasn’t thrilled. I had recently found running and had based some of my identity on being a runner (albeit a slow one). I was really worried about how this was going to affect my running. I realize it didn’t have to, but I was so worried about the beginning stages of pregnancy, that I let it. I have almost completely stopped running and without the running my mood has quickly gone sour. I am complaining more. Quitting more. Whining more. Being pessimistic more. And I hate it.

I’ve been letting my role of “mother” take away from all the other roles I love to play: runner, inspirer, friend, wife. And the worst part is, I’ve been letting myself let myself. Yet, when I try to reverse this, when I try to get back to the way things are, I can’t.

It’s not that I don’t know how. I know exactly the steps I need to take. I know exactly what I need to do. But I don’t do it. I make plans. Then I can’t take the steps.

I know I need to get up and run. I just need to do it. And then my alarm goes off in the morning and I go back to sleep, knowing full well that I am going to hate myself in the morning, that I’m going to feel crappier than if I missed that hour of sleep due to running.

Just yesterday, my 3 year old asked me why I don’t go running anymore. Even he has noticed. Even he has seen the effects of my slacked attitude. It’s not just me. It’s not me being oversensitive to the situation.

I feel discouraged because I am so much slower now than I was. I felt like quitting when I realized I wasn’t getting faster, but slower instead. And instead of continually getting slower, I let myself quit altogether.

When I try to explain this to people, I usually get the “It’s ok, because you’re pregnant.” So I sigh and am inwardly happy that I have a “legitimate” excuse that I can use instead of what the real reason is: “I’m scared and I don’t want to fail more than I have so I simply won’t try.” I’m letting pregnancy be my excuse because it’s there, not because it’s the truth. I’m letting it be my excuse because to the outside world, it’s one that is allowed.

But to me it’s not. I’ve come to far to let this go. I’ve overcome heartache and muscle aches and sore everything and yet still kept going. I don’t want to resent my newest little because I quit and blamed it on being pregnant with her.  I don’t want this to be who I am to her and the rest of my family. I don’t want this to be who I am, period.

I need to remember who I was. I need to find me again.

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I claim defeat

/ Cassie / 1 Comment

“Defeat is not the worst of failures.  Not to have tried is the true failure.” ~George Edward Woodberry.

Nice quote.  Today I don’t buy it.  My run sucked.  I know why and I don’t know why all at the same time.

This was my second run, back to back, that sucked.  My past two runs have sucked, and incidentally, I was just feeling in stride and rhythm with this whole running thing and thinking that maybe this was finally getting easier.

Guess what, it’s not.

I want to quit.  I want to give up.  I want to live a happy, peaceful life on the elliptical and sit down bike at the gym instead running.

But…

Thursday I’ll lace up the damn running shoes again.

And I’ll go for it even when all parts of me and shouting and screaming.

At this point, it’s not even because I want to.  It’s because I have to.

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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

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