Plain and simple, it’s all about the shoes.

“Give a girl the right shoes, and she can conquer the world.” ~Marilyn Monroe

Today was a day for a long run.  I was supposed to run 5 miles.  I was tired, cranky, and had a head cold so I was worried that I wouldn’t even complete one.  But at the prodding of my super supportive husband I laced up anyway and got out the door.   After the first mile my shins were hurting.  Then came the knees.  Then a weird pain in my foot that I hadn’t felt before.  I couldn’t understand why I had all these weird pains when I was running significantly slower than normal in order to complete all 5 miles.  Then it hit me.  It is time to change the shoes.  Even though I had another pair waiting at home for me, I felt a sadness creep into my run.  I thought maybe it was just the weird pains, but in the end I knew that wasn’t it.  This was going to be my last time running in these shoes.  And suddenly, 5 miles didn’t seem like too much.  It seemed like not enough.

Before this attempt I had tried the running thing a few times before, each time in shoes that I bought from a department store or a random shoe store in the mall.  I bought usually based on looks and what I thought the other “real” runners were wearing at the time…something that would make me look like a “real” runner even when I wasn’t.

During Christmas break my best friend came home for a visit.  She is a “real runner”, multiple miles and Ks, marathons, etc., and yet talked to me like I was one too, even though I was only up to 2 miles at a time, even though I hadn’t run in a month.  She told me how running isn’t ever easy, even for her.  She gets the same pains I do, the same tiredness, the same foreboding feeling of running certain days.  She suggested I try it again, and maybe this time, head to Charm City Run, a local running store, to find the best shoes for me.

I was always nervous to enter these stores because of the feeling of not being a “real runner” but everyone was so wonderful and personable and simply celebratory of everyone who is up and out there and doing something.  After a few trials and a few runs on the treadmill, I finally settled on the Brooks Adrenaline GTS 14.  I was skeptical because I had tried Brooks before but hated them.

But from that very first run in my Brooks, on the first day of 2014, I felt like I had met my soulmate.  I was back to barely running a mile, but my shoes didn’t care.  They were there for me every step of the way, literally.  Every time I put them on it felt like coming home again.  While I had run before (and stopped quite a few times) these were the shoes that saw me through running in snow storms, completing my first 5K without stopping to walk, completing my first 6K, running in the Color Run as a family (the first race for both my boys and my husband), and 2 pants sizes. These are the shoes I was wearing when I signed up for my first half-marathon before I could chicken out.  These are the first shoes that chose me instead of me choosing them.  These are the first shoes I bought with my ultra running best friend who inspires me each and every day to get up and run.  These are the shoes that got me back where I need to be.

And while I know I have a new pair waiting in the closet, they will never be these shoes.  The ones in the closet are worth $120.  These ones are priceless and are literally filled with my blood sweat and tears.

Today was a day for a long run.  I was supposed to do 5 miles. But instead, to celebrate my shoes, I did 6.2.  My first unofficial 10K.  These shoes literally took me from .75 miles to 6.2 miles in four and a half months.  But really it’s more than that.  They took me farther than I ever thought possible.  They took me to a place where I am a better version of myself…and that can’t be measured in miles.

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And today we rest

“Rest and be thankful.” ~ William Wordsworth

Normally about this time I would be heading to the gym or out for a run or even work (yuck!).  Not today.  I’ve decided that as 2013 comes to a close I need a day off, a day to rest and reflect, a day to mentally prepare for 2013 ending and 2014 beginning.  This is the time of year that so many articles are posted on the internet about letting go, moving on, and making peace with the past.  That is exactly what I intend to do today.

2013 was a truly excruciating year.  Between issues with Max and learning about his profound hearing loss, a miscarriage on mother’s day, my dad dying, summer time discombobulation, relationship woes, and a tough beginning of the school year I wonder how I was able to come out of all of it still breathing and right side up.  I’m ready to let all of this go, to be finished mourning the losses, to end the regrets I have, and to march into 2014 with a clean slate, ready to take back my life.

I’m even going to take the day off from working out, from running, from stretching, from all of it.  With all the new stretches and exercises I’ve been doing in order to improve my running, plus the running itself, my legs are sore!  It’s a good kind of sore, one that shows me that these muscles have been underutilized for a long time, the kind of sore that shows me that I am actually doing something and making progress.  I love how I feel after a good workout and run, but every now and then it’s good to take a break.  It keeps me motivated and aching (literally) to get back into my routine.  Plus, with the goals I’ve set for January, I need a day to simply mentally and physically prepare.

So today I rest and reflect and let go, for tomorrow is not only a new day, but a new month and a new year and I plan on making it fabulous.

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How nothing and everything has changed…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Starting as one thing, ending as another

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It felt like I was home.

Miles accomplished in the 100 Mile Challenge: 74.75

Miles to go in the 100 Mile Challenge: 25.25

 

Run, Forrest, Run!

“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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How am I going to be an optomist about this?

“That inner voice has both gentleness and clarity.  So to get to authenticity, you really keep going down to the bone, to the honesty, and the inevitability of something.” ~Meredith Monk
 
I almost started this blog post with “Let me preface this with” but I feel like I’m always starting each post with that.  As if I need to have a preemptive explanation for each of my actions.  When, in actuality, what you see is what you get and that should be good enough for anyone.
 
In the spirit of staying consistent though, let me preface this post by saying that I’m pretty drunk.  And I don’t mean glass of wine drunk, I mean bottle of wine drunk.  So, really, I should probably reread this in the morning because in all actuality I have no idea what I am actually writing. I have so many thoughts running my through my head that I don’t even know what I am thinking right now.  This is so different from my usual “wine-drunk” self where I get giddy-excited and then sleepy.    Right now I am a jumble of emotions and feelings, and frankly, they are somewhat clarifying. 
 
I hate to do things in lists an bullet points, but I think, at this stage of the game, that’s what I need to do.
 
  • I’ve done many things in the past few months that I regret.  Things I shouldn’t have done, things I shouldn’t have dabbled in.  While they have made me not like certain aspects of myself, they have also brought me to where I need to be at this point, so my regrets really do have a positive outcome.  I just need to stop thinking of these things as regrets and start thinking of them as stops along the way to fulfillment.
  • Because of so many choices I have made over the past couple months, I feel like my family has been neglected.  I realize, I’ve made the choice to neglect them, but it doesn’t stop the hurt I feel about making them second in my life.  I need to do better.  There is nothing else that I need to say.  I simply need to be a better family member.
  • Jealousy, especially the jealousy I have felt over the past few months, has eaten me alive at times.  I have never really been a jealous person and I don’t know why it has been affecting me the way it does.  Is my ego bruised?  Am I feeling used?  even more so, am I just feeling unimportant?  I’m sure it is a combination of all of these factors, but I really hate feeling jealous of others.  That whole feeling of thinking that if I were simply someone else my life would be better is bullshit.  It doesn’t suit me well.
  • I’ve been feeling kind of stupid (for lack of a better word) lately because I wasted SO MUCH TIME on people who rarely made the time for me.  Why the hell did I do that?  I have no idea, but really, I can’t believe my self-esteem would be so low as to need to validate my worth through others.  Yet, that’s exactly what I did.  I spent so much time making mountains out of mole hills.  Making myself believe I was more important to people than I actually was, that I started to believe I was only as important as special as THEY made me out to be.  How sad.
  • It’s definitely time for a new job.  I love working in education.  I love working for the betterment of the families of East Baltimore (at least the ones that WANT to move forward) but I don’t know if the classroom is the place for me to be.  I feel like I need to work for a non-profit, or start a non-profit, or something!  But there has go to be something more than this.  This can not be where my career ends up.  I simply won’t let it.

I guess, except for the fact that I simply hate myself for not running this week, that’s it. 

There are no words left, I feel like I’ve said them all.  And I guess that’s better than them eating me up inside.

I guess.

Now is the time…

“Now is the time for guts and guile.” ~Elizabeth Taylor

I feel like I should preface this post with saying I haven’t given up.  I realize that I need to say that to myself more than I need to say it to anyone else, but really, I promise, I haven’t given up.  I completed my third 5k on Sunday.  Did I run the whole thing?  Nope.  Did I run a majority of it? Nope.  Did I run some of it?  Yep. And on that day, that was good enough for me.

Have I been running since Sunday?  Nope.  Have I been active at all since Sunday?  Nope.  Have I been eating the best I could over the past couple weeks?  Nope.  I could be doing better.  I should be doing better.  I know how to be doing better.  And yet I’m not.  I’m fucking not.  And I have no excuses whatsoever.  I’m just not.

I could blame this on the excruciating pain that my plantar fasciitis has been causing me.  But really, that’s bull.  Yes, my foot is killing me and at time it just hurts to stand, but what am I doing to make it better?  Am I doing the stretches I should be doing?  No.  Am I doing anything to help or prevent the pain at all besides taking some tylenol?  No.

I could blame the fact that it’s because I’m trying to spend more time with my family, but that’s bull too.  I am trying to spend more time with them, but I need to realize it’s quality over quantity and if I’m not all there and my mind is someplace else anyway, what’s the point.

I could blame it on the fact that I’ve been a little depressed lately.  New birth control plus a return of insomnia does not a happy person make.

And you’d think identifying the problem would be enough to get my butt into action.  But nope.  Not me.  Instead I complain.  And yell.  And act sullen.  You know, the mature 33 year old thing to do.  I’ve done such a good job my whole life putting all the blame on other people that I’ve seemingly let myself off the hook.

But not anymore.  It is time to take charge.  I ordered some anti-steroid cream and a night brace.  I will do my stretches twice a day and ice my foot twice a day.  I will make time, quality time, to spend with my family, while also leaving time for me.  I will stop making excuses. Bad decisions are exactly that…decisions.  I have no one to blame for all of the ones I have made, except myself.  I can continue to dwell on them or I reflect, learn, move on and hope I don’t make the same ones again.

I will stop complaining.  I will get back on track.  I will get through this.  I have come too far to give up now.

100 Mile Challenge Miles: 33.8
Pounds lost since starting 100 Miles Challenge: 8.2 pounds

Playing it safe…

“Waiting is painful.  Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering.” ~Paulo Coelho

It’s funny.  I feel like I should write, but I’m not quite sure what to write about.  Sometimes I don’t even know that I’m thinking certain thoughts until they spill out onto the page as I type.  I finished my third 5K today and, to me, that is a pretty big accomplishment.  But still, I don’t know if that is what I want to write about.  I’m at a point where I don’t know if the problem is that I have nothing in my head or everything.

What I do know is that I’m tired of waiting.  But even then, I’m not sure what I’m waiting for.  A sign?  Something that tells me what direction I take at the fork in the road.  I’m always looking for something to tell me which direction to choose or which path to take: a certain time on a clock, finding a heads up penny, even my horoscope at times (ironically enough, my horoscope today tells me that if I have a particular issue on my mind, I shouldn’t wait for a better moment to get it out into the open). I feel like I am always at a “fork in the road”.  Each decision has it’s own set of benefits and consequences and really, you can’t know what they are until you make the decision.  So I spend time debating and agonizing and worrying so much that I create more problems and situations than there actually are.

I think one of my problems is that I don’t take enough risks and tend to not put myself “out there” as much as I could or should.  I tend to play it safe, thinking that if I don’t make a choice or a move either a. someone will make it for me, or b. nothing happens and I am no worse off than I was before.  Plus, what happens if I do put myself out there and it turns out to be the wrong decision or a mistake?  Or even worse, I am somehow rejected?  Sometimes I feel like my fragile ego just won’t be able to handle it.

I tend to write all these posts about how I need to jump in, make grand gestures, simply make choices and decisions, and yet that’s all they are…words on a page.  I don’t actually DO any of that.  I write about doing it, but never take action.  It all sounds so amazing and profound when I write it down and for a while I actually contemplate taking action, real action, within my life.  And then I get scared. And the worst part?  The really worst part?  Is that I am a giant hypocrite.  I tend to judge people for not following through when they complain about the direction of their life and yet I do the same thing.

At what point will I allow myself to make the first phone call, take the first step, or tell someone what I really want instead of going along with someone else’s plans?  At what point will I allow myself to walk away from situations instead of clinging to a hope that maybe, one day, it will get better?  At what point will I just DO SOMETHING instead of standing still?

At what point will I allow myself to jump, knowing that it’s just as likely that I land on my feet unscathed as it is I break my legs?

42 Days.

“I give myself very good advice but I very seldom follow it. That explains the trouble that I’m always in” ~ Alice in Wonderland

42 days.  In the same breath it feels like tomorrow and far away all at once.  In 42 days I am running the Color Run in Baltimore and my goal is to run the whole thing.  But in order to do that, I need to get serious.  And lately, it doesn’t feel like I have been at all, at least not about running and exercise, or even my life in general.

I guess, in a way, you can say that I’ve been back sliding.  The worst part is, I saw it coming and honestly did nothing to stop it.  I KNOW what I am supposed to do in certain situations, yet I tend to make the complete opposite choice.  I could have kept going, could have pushed through and gone running even on the days when I was tired, but I was preoccupied with other things.  Things that were, frankly, not as important. I wish I knew why I did it.  But I don’t, and I have to stop thinking that if I concentrate hard enough I can change the past.

It’s hard sometimes, to find that motivation that we seek to keep going.  I look on Pinterest for a quote to get me going, or seek advice from  friend.  But sometimes it just doesn’t work. What I really need, sometimes, is someone to just tell me to stop looking behind, only look forward, and get off my ass and go.  Sure I’ll be tired, sure it will hurt, but the way I’ll feel when I accomplish what I want will erase all of that immediately.  For the past two weeks I haven’t run a lot because my foot hurts.  But what happened to the weeks I was doing it before?  I’m sure my foot hurt then as well, but why am I letting myself use it as an excuse now?  I mean, really, if I look deep down inside, I know why.  But frankly, I just don’t want to face it.

I’ve come so far, since January, since summer, that I don’t want to wind up back there again.  And yet, I’m letting myself gradually slink and slide back that way?  And for what?  Why is this so hard?  I guess, if it were easy, everyone would be doing it.

I wish I didn’t need to look outside of myself so often for some form of validation, but even at the ripe old age of 32, I still do.  Hell, half the time I still feel like a teenager, worrying that everyone is starting at me, or talking about me, etc.  I know even my friends judge, because I know I’m guilty of it too, which makes it so hard to just be ME sometimes. I think the saddest thing is that I know who I am , I really do, but I have yet to feel like I can be truly MYSELF around anyone.

This morning, I had this moment (more like 2 hours) of just pure bliss.  As I was heading downtown with the sun shining, music blaring, windows down, I just felt sublimely happy; the way I was feeling a few weeks ago.  I was heading to pick up my race packet for a 5K a friend and I are doing tomorrow and just thinking about doing the race made me happy.  I don’t know what it is about running that is making me so euphoric, especially when I am basically just walking really fast (yup, I’m that slow), but why do I let myself get away from that feeling?  Why do I let myself stop?  Why I am looking for a quick burst of happiness from some other arena instead of concentrating on this?

This goes back to my previous post too, about the not half-assing my life anymore.  I’ve looked up how to train, I’ve looked up what I need to do to help (not cure) my plantar fasciitis, but yet I don’t do it.  Deep down, no matter what I do, I feel like I am still that lazy girl who wants to just sit in the comfy chair and daydream about things that will never be, plan – but not do, and basically take the easy way out.  And the sad thing is that I am letting myself and letting the people around me let me do it!

I don’t want to be that girl anymore.  I don’t want to be that girl from last winter who could barely climb a flight of stairs without feeling like I was going to die.  I don’t want to be that girl from the spring that put work before herself and her family.  I don’t want to be that girl from the summer who basically couldn’t think for herself and do what she knew needed to be done.

I know what I want to be.  I just feel like I have no way to get there.

So Jump

“If she’s amazing she won’t be easy.  If she’s easy she won’t be amazing.  If she’s worth it you won’t give up.  If you give up you’re not worthy.  Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you; you’ve just got to find the ones worth suffering for.” ~Bob Marley

To say that this week has been crazy would be an understatement.   I haven’t been running since Tuesday.  My foot is killing me and I am trying to rest it as much as possible and try it out again Monday morning and see how it feels.  But, you know what?  I think this is one of the best things to happen to me.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t actually like being injured or the shooting pains in my foot.  But I knew that running was giving me some sort of endorphin-filled high.  Which made me want to run…a lot.  I probably have even been running too much, hence the pain in my foot.  I was worried that if I stopped running that my happiness would begin to disappear and that running was the only thing making me happy.

But it wasn’t.  I’m still happy even though I haven’t run or even worked out in the last three days.  My good mood seems here to stay, at least for a little while.  I’m starting to learn things little by little and that seems to be helping me change my outlook and perspective and keep me happier.

I’m learning that it’s OK to take a break if I need it.  I’m at the place where I know that a small break does not mean I have quit or give up.

I’m learning that it’s OK to stress about things…as long as you don’t let the stress over take you.  I’m letting myself feel the full weight of a situation for five minutes, handling it, and then moving on.  Worrying doesn’t help anything or change the situation, so why bother.

I’m learning that I know what’s best for me.  I love that I have a support system of friends and family who are there for me and want to help.  And I listen to their advice because they love me and want me to be the best person I can. But in the end, my decisions are my decisions and while they may not understand why I’m making one, they don’t have to.

I’m learning that friends may be people who tell you the truth, even when you don’t want to hear it, but they also will never intentionally try to pull you down. They won’t base their happiness and worth on your down fall.  Don’t ever let anyone dull your sparkle and all that…

I’m learning that not all bad decisions are “bad decisions”.  Decisions are choices, plain and simple, and what defines them as bad is how you see the outcome.  As long as you can live with the consequence of the decision you are making, and as long as it doesn’t intentionally hurt anyone, is it really a bad decision?

I’m learning it’s OK to be a little weird.  And to accept my weirdness and revel in it.  That one thing you think is weird, might be the one thing someone else falls in love with.

I’m learning that it’s OK to feel any emotion I am feeling.  Hurt, happiness, betrayal, love, sadness, longing, anger, giddy…there is a reason for each and every one of them.

I’m also learning that while it’s OK to feel any emotion you want, you need to be careful who you are sharing them with.  Don’t share them with people who will be reckless with them or judge.  While it’s OK to feel every emotion, not everything needs to be shared.

I’m learning that it’s OK to keep things to myself.  To keep me to myself.  Self-preservation is sometimes all we have.

And finally, I’m learning that sometimes your only available transportation is a leap of faith.

So jump.