moving forward

Just a Mile

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“If you don’t take the chance to live life, what can you say at the end of it?” ~Naveen Andrews

Two years ago I went through something profound.  My world was complacent and in one day everything became something else.  It was almost as if I put my life into a blender and hit the switch on high.  My world became mixed, tangled, and unrecognizable.  And then the bottom fell out.  I couldn’t breathe.  I lost myself and I had absolutely no hope of salvation.

Then, for no apparent reason, at 7:00 at night, on a random Sunday in September, I decided to go for a run.  I was tired.  I needed to give the kids a bath.  The housework had piled up beyond belief.  But it didn’t matter.  At that moment I had to go running.  I put up my hair, threw on my shoes and headed out the door.  It was slow, it was messy, it could hardly even be classified as a run.

But that run saved my life.  I was able to crawl through the wreckage that was my summer and come out the other side breathing.  I kept running and eventually I was able to run a mile without stopping and that became the marker on which I base my life.

When I would fall off the running wagon, I would continually test myself by running a mile.  When I would fall into a deep depression, I would test myself by running a mile (when I finally emerged). When I drank a little too much wine the night before I would test myself by running a mile.  During my pregnancy I would continually test myself by running a mile.  And now, 4 weeks after having my baby, I tested myself by running a mile…and I was still able to do it.  I would tell myself if I could still run a mile all hope was not lost.  If I could still run a mile there was a chance…of something, anything.

These days, after finishing numerous 5 ks, a 10k , and a half marathon a mile might seem pretty insignificant.  Sometimes on my rest days I head out to run “just a mile”.  But in reality, to me, it was never “just a mile”.  It was so much more.  It was something I wanted for so long and I made a plan, put in the effort, and on the other side came out successful.  It was an accomplishment and it set the tone for the rest of my life.  It was something that could never be lost or taken for me.  It was my mile and I owned it.

Running a mile showed me that what I wanted was important.  Running a mile showed me what I wanted was possible.

It was never “just a mile”.  It was my life.  And with that mile I had saved it.

The Proverbial Itch

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““That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day.” ~Charles Dickens

This happens every few years.  The proverbial itch.  That feeling I get when I can’t sit still.  It’s usually proceeded by a great life change.  Two years ago it was the death of my father.  Now, the birth of my newest child.  With my father it had a lot to do with me rebelling against him, his death, and the need to prove that I am still very much alive, even when he was not.  It was a need to prove that in a great upheaval, a great depression, I could still be happy.  I felt the need to break free, go crazy, and prove that there was still “something” left in me.

But now, I’m starting to get that feeling again.  I look at my daughter as I hold her in my arms at just 17 days old and think that I have never loved anything in my entire life as much as I’ve love her.  And for someone like me, this can be very scary because when you love something that much, you now have something to lose.

Just the other day I was walking around my neighborhood and I couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that spring seemed to bloom overnight.  The trees seemed to be bare one morning and then alive with light and color the very next day.  And I found this to be the way I love my daughter.  Unsure during my entire pregnancy if having more children was the “responsible” thing to do and then within minutes of her being born not being able to imagine living my life without her in it.

But these are scary feelings and sometimes they seem stronger than I am actually able to process within myself…hence the itching feeling, hence the need to break out of my own skin and shed the uncomfortable feeling of being unable to process so much.

The last time I made choices, and while many of them weren’t very wise choices, they brought me to the place where I am today.  I’m stronger than I once was, I’ve discovered my love for running, I have an amazing new daughter, and I’m the most confident I’ve ever been.  I learned a lot about myself during this time of upheaval, most importantly, to take myself seriously and not let anyone be in charge of my happiness.

But two years ago I did it all wrong. Two years ago I decided that the problem wasn’t me and that it was everything else around me.  At that time running away seemed like the only option.  And while I didn’t run away per se, I left my life behind for a while and jumped head first into something different and something unknown.  I assumed that this would help me feel better.  I assumed that this is what I needed to survive.  But what I realized was just the opposite.  Running away from my life nearly broke me.  I became a shell of the person I was and it took too long to rebuild myself.  I don’t have that kind of time anymore.

Now, things are different.  The main difference, of course, was before I wanted to run away and now I simply want to run.  I’m looking forward to being able to run again.  To getting out there are pounding the pavement and smashing my problems as I work through them.  Maybe this time the itchyness is a good thing; it’s a desire to get back to work on my and continue to my journey to becoming the best person I can be.

And that’s exactly what I’ll do – for me, for my family, and now for my amazing little daughter; the answer I never new I was looking for.

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Reinvention?

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“Slow down you crazy child
You’re so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you’re so smart tell me,
Why are you still so afraid?
Where’s the fire, what’s the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out
You got so much to do and only
So many hours in a day.” ~Billy Joel

It’s been almost a week since baby #3 has joined our chaotic family.  I should probably stop calling her baby #3.  Her name is Charlotte Emerson and she was born on Tuesday.  I won’t bore you with the baby stuff (like I’m sure I’ve bored almost every single person on Facebook and Instagram) but I will say that she is completely perfect in every way.

While I’ve been on maternity leave since April 2, this kids and pretty much every one I know was on Spring Break last week so it really didn’t hit me until this morning when I had to get up and feed and dress people with the timed deadline of school.  Even though everyone slept in later than normal (even the baby Charlotte) we managed to get showered, dressed, fed, and out the door on time and I was able to spend the next few hours completing some random housework, holding Charlotte, and flipping through Netflix unencumbered buy anyone or anything.

I realize it’s only day 1.  I realize Charlotte has only been with us for less than a week. But honestly, things are working out better than they were before.  I’m trying to figure out if motherhood just agrees with me more, or if it is, in fact, simply maternity leave and time off from a very stressful job that has changed me so completely in just a few short days.

Last night Mike took Charlotte to visit with his parents.  I cleaned the main level of the house, made dinner for the boys, and then went outside to enjoy the beautiful weather. After having baby #3 six days ago I’ve never felt more sore, more tired, and more poor in my life. I’ve also never felt happier, more relaxed and more in love with my life. I haven’t been short tempered, or depressed, or annoyed with anything. It made me realize just how much having to go to my job (not work in particular, specifically my job) affects my happiness.

I have 7 weeks off (plus all of summer vacation) to do some real soul searching and think about the direction that my life is heading.  The last 10 months of pregnancy were hard on me and I am sure they were hard on my family.  I was a pretty miserable person and, in turn, am pretty sure I made them miserable too.

I have this time now, though, without the stressors of work, to get myself together.  I keep thinking of it as having a chance to reinvent myself, to become who I really want to become.   But I don’t think that’s what I’m really aiming for. Reinvention consists of the idea of remaking or making over.  I feel more that I now have the time to focus on becoming the absolute best version of myself.  For me,  For my friends.  And for my family.

I need to slow down more, have more patience, see past faults, be more understanding, be less frustrated, and a myriad of other things.  I always felt that what I really needed to discover myself and work towards a better me was time and that’s actually the one thing I have in droves right now.  Time.

I raise my glass to toast to the future.  To toast to time.  To toast to becoming the person I want to be…the person I know I can be.  I toast to becoming the best version of me.

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Faker

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“I feel like a big faker because I’ve been putting my life back together, and nobody knows.” ~Stephen Chbosky

I tend to harbor a lot of anxiety in my every day life.  Little things; money, family, and work, creep in periodically and make me a little on edge.  To be honest, this anxiety is probably felt more by my family than by me, which I know is not fair. But these are small things…the things that most of us face on a daily basis, and while they are anxiety inducing, they are not true fears.

I do have a fear though.  Just thinking about it can stop me in my tracks, unable to breathe or even see.  I am completely and unequivocally scared of dying.  It’s not really the dying part, per say, but more so the fear of simply not existing or my life, as I know it, being over.   When I start to think about it, I mean REALLY think about it, I reach a state of full on panic and I can barely get out of it.  I don’t know if it has something to do with me being too egotistical to understand that the world can and will go on without me or simply that  I wasn’t raised religiously, therefor I don’t really have any beliefs about heaven or the after life, but I’ve had this fear for as long as I can remember.

When I was little I would shuffle into my parent’s room in the middle of the night to tell them I was scared of dying.  It was never the dark, or monsters, or any of the “normal” kid fears, but dying.  The would roll over, tell me we would talk about it in the morning, and go back to sleep.  We never really did talk about it though. My dad, raised Catholic, believed in heaven and hell.  My mom believed our souls were reincarnated.  I had neither of these safety nets to fall back on so the fear continued to grow.

But why am I telling you all this?  Mostly because while this fear should make me more motivated to reach my goals, should motivate me to become the best person I can be, should motivate me to live life to the fullest, it doesn’t.  I’m constantly writing these posts about how life is short, that we only have a limited time to really do and be who we want, that we have to embrace change to really move ourselves and I do none of it.  I write about it, sure, but I don’t make any moves toward action.

And…I have no idea why.  I am so scared of the idea of ceasing to exist without being truly happy and making a lasting, positive impression on the world that I literally have a panic attack.  I clench up, I can’t breathe, my blood pressure and heart rate spike almost uncontrollably until I’m able to talk myself down, and yet I can’t follow through on ideas and plans without quitting or talking myself out of them.

Why am I scared of making these big leaps and changes?  You’d think the fear of a short lived life, unfulfilled, unhappy life would be enough to catapult me into change, but it’s not.  Ultimately, it’s a combination of factors that can stand seamlessly alone, but together gather strength as the fear of judgement from others.

I can sit here all day from my throne in my judgement free zone (really the arm chair in my living room) and spout off about how we all need to take ourselves seriously, that we need to do the things that make up happy, that life’s too short to care about what other people think, YOLO and all that but when it comes out of my mouth, it’s pretty much just a pile of crap because while I’m talking the talk, I’m not walking the walk.

I live in constant fear of judgment of others.  Yes, I post my running pictures, but only head shots because even though I lost almost 80 pounds no one wants to see me in my running tights.

Yes, I post pictures of my miles of running, but have you ever noticed that I cut the times off all of them because I know that when people see the time it took me to run one mile, many of them will realize they can actually WALK faster than that.

Yes, I talk about one day completing a marathon, but there is no way I’d ever tell anyone that I want to do that because I know the judgements would come because I just BARELY finished my half marathon and wasn’t very graceful in all the complaining I was doing in the end.

Yes, I complain about how I could be a better mother and wife and make all these plans in my head where I resolve to do so, and five minutes later I am yelling or bitching about something.

Yes, I sit enviously looking at people on Facebook (yet another thing that needs to go) while they follow their dreams and live fearless and unencumbered lives and again I make plans and have absolutely no follow through.

So, basically, what I’ve amounted to in all my “carpe diem”-ness is a blog with a lot of fancy words, but not a lot of action.

What does this mean?  Where do I go?  What action will I take?  I don’t know.  But I’m ready to do something, anything, to prove that I have a life worth living.

I can’t live a life in vain anymore.

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The Truth Will Set You Free

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“Let’s start at the very beginning. A very good place to start.” ~Maria (The Sound of Music)

While I may not always see myself that way, people have told me I am inspiring and motivating.  Really, these are the best compliments I have ever gotten.  If me getting my lazy butt off the couch helps someone else get moving, that is awesome.  I tend to be an “over poster” on Facebook but I figured by starting another blog, a place where people can come to get inspired, it could help alleviate some of that traffic.

I’ve been trying to write this post for about a week now, but never seem to know how to start.  As with most major life changes, starting always seems to be the problem.  Running, writing, working out, completing projects…once I’m in the middle I know I’ll finish, but that’s only if I am able to get past “the starting”.

But here goes: my story.

I guess you could say it all began with a trip to Oregon.  I was heading out there for an educational conference. 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.  Images of Kevin Smith came swimming to the forefront of my consciousness.  Suddenly, 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 3 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 actually contemplated cutting my hair), 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 (walked) 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 and hadn’t communicated in years.  Because of this, I didn’t think his death 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. In January, on the eve of my 33 birthday, I hit my 60 pound mark.  And I’m still going.

Over the months I ran occasionally, went to the gym, got injured, and then began again and again.  I started and stopped so many times that I can’t even keep track.  The most important thing?  Every time I stopped, I started again.  I remember the first day I was able to complete one mile without stopping.  I remember the first 5k I was able to completely run.  Just recently I completed my first 10k.  

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.

Some days running feels so easy.  Others, I want to die.  I’m faster than I used to be, but still super slow.  But I am a real runner.  We all are.  Even those that don’t run because the potential to run is in there.

And at 263 pounds I am currently running about 20 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.

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What defines us…

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“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?

Race Recap and a bunch of other randomness

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“If you start soon enough, you won’t have to catch up.”

This week-end was absolutely gorgeous.  The sun was shining, the birds were singing and all that other wonderful spring-timeness that we know and love.  A friend and I completed the Port to Fort 6K this week-end in downtown Baltimore.  This was my first time ever running an event (not racing, because we all know I wasn’t going to win) that was more than a 5K.  The race itself was beautiful, but tough and had a lot of hills.  My friend walked, I ran (THE WHOLE THING!) and she beat me by a minute and a half.

I don’t know what it is about running races, but I am trying my hardest to get over the mental roadblock that I put up.  This race was a little under four miles.  I run that distance about twice a week, but I run it at home, alone, and in the dark.  This definitely felt a lot harder with crowds of people, time limits, and expectations.  I always feel like I am doing a great job and then the hoards of people start passing me.  And then the people who are miles ahead of me pass me on their way back to the finish line and I start to get defeated.

I know I am improving.  I know that running for four miles at any pace is an awesome accomplishment.  I also know that just 6 months ago I could barely run at all and it took me over an hour to finish a 5K.  But sometimes I forget that there is another part to the package.  I keep telling myself that I’m not a “real” runner so I don’t have to take myself seriously.  I keep telling myself that because I’m a real runner, I don’t have to do all that “extra” stuff.  I keep telling myself that because I’m not a real runner, I don’t have to push myself to improve.  And this is simply not true.  I am never going to be one of those runners that runs a 6 minute mile.  Hell, at this point I’m hoping for a 12 minute mile.  But I can get there if I try.  I can get  there if I stop making excuses.

I know that in order to get better I have to run more.  I know that in order to get better I have to make myself know that this is important.

I know that in order to get better I just have to keep going.

The view at mile marker 2 of the Port to Fort 6K

The view at mile marker 2 of the Port to Fort 6K

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

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“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.

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) 🙂

For the days when you hate everything…

/ Cassie / 2 Comments

“When something bad happens you have three choices: let it define you, let it destroy you, or let it strengthen you.” ~Unknown

I actually had a pretty good day today. The day went smoothly.  My kids ACTUALLY got math today.  I got through everything in my lesson plan.  I received a compliment from my principal. I finally felt like things at work were going well for once.  I was excited that I was going to the gym after work.  I was going to get in the run I missed this morning and get in some weights.

Then I got to the gym and realized I forgot my headphones (I was even going to steal some from lost and found, but there were none). And then I realized I didn’t have my running shoes and the shoes I was wearing were NOT conducive to running.  I wound up putting in a lame 20 minutes on the elliptical and left.

I got home and the kids were in a mood from no nap.  I only get them early in the morning or at night and they seem to ALWAYS be in a mood. I checked the weather and realized it is supposed to rain tomorrow which means no morning run and no workout at the gym due to no car.  And at that moment, I just fell apart.  I mean, like literally lost it.  Big, fat crocodile tears, hiccuping sob lost it.

I didn’t get a real workout in.  The stupid f*cking scale isn’t moving.  The kids were screaming.  I was hungry.  I wasn’t going to meet my daily goals.  In a nutshell, I hated everything.

After I was finally able to calm down (with a little help, thank you husband and prosecco) I decided to try my best to see the bright side of things.  I was looking for any little glimmer of positive in my humdrum afternoon.  And this is what I came up with:

1. It is OK to take a day off.  It is OK to have an off day.  It is OK to have a day where you do nothing and just relax.

2.  Goals are goals.  They are meant to be there in order to guide you and motivate you, but they are not the end all, be all of your existence.  If you don’t meet your goal one day, it’s OK.  You have tomorrow to make it happen.  Work harder.  Focus more.  Improve upon yesterday.  I have to stop basing my happiness on whether or not I meet my goals.  That should not define me.

3. If you’re hungry, eat. I mean, if you are actually hungry.  Don’t eat because you’re bored, or depressed, or angry.  Eat if you need to, and if not, find an activity you can be excited about.

4. It takes work.  Everything takes work.  I am not going to run a half marathon tomorrow.  I am not going to run a 5K tomorrow.  But I can work towards that goal. Point it, I just have keep going.  Even when I want to give up.  Even when I think I am not getting anywhere.  Even when I hate everything.  I just HAVE TO KEEP GOING.

Maybe it’s good that I got so upset about missing a workout and not meeting my goals.  It means I care.  It means I am not ready to give up yet.  It means this is important to me.  And really, no matter what I do, the important thing is that I DO something.