Tuesday, November 5, 2019
Baby Steps
The transition from living the normal everyday life of a mom with a teenage son to that of a mom of a Marine is a pretty gigantic leap. If you know me well you know that there is not one tiny part of me that is ok with war or violence of any kind. I’m the person who will cry over the pain that others have to feel. Being a military mom has forced me to look past war and violence, the part of the military that terrifies me, the really scary part, to hope that only good will come from my son being in the military. One thing that I didn’t know before he joined is that I’m strong enough to take baby steps along with him, I definitely wasn’t strong enough to jump right in but I’m getting there. I can support him and the military without supporting the violence that scares me so much and goes against all of my core values. The point I find myself now is much more calm and rational than where I found myself a few months back. My son is safe, I can talk to him, I can feel that he is safe and my heart is happy. Now I miss him like all moms do when their kids grow up and start their lives but in a much more normal way than that first horrible 13 weeks with little to no contact. I miss him as a young child who needed so much of my time, I miss him as a teenager who still needed me, just far less than he used to. Of course what I miss the most is the him that is not only my son but my friend as well. Now I find myself facing the unknown that the future holds. A very wise therapist once told me (recently) not to “borrow worry”. By this she meant for me to not to spend my energy worrying about things that may never happen. This was the best piece of advice I have received since June 10th, the day I watched my only son, my favorite son, walk away to begin his journey as a Marine. This advice has helped me through many anxious moments, it has stopped the panic, sometimes has pulled me back from falling apart for the 1,000th time. I find myself at a comfortable place in life, both personal and professional. My third grade class is full of students who have already stolen my heart and are currently very busy teaching me life lessons. My home, while a little emptier than it used to be, is full of love and a lot of happiness. My heart is so thankful to all of my friends who reached out and checked on me, some of whom I will forever be grateful to. So...I guess I am saying that it took me a long time but for now I’m ok. If you haven’t noticed my many Facebook posts I am trying to raise money or donations to send to deployed troops. When I first joined the Marine parents support group I thought I would never just be proud like so many other parents, that worry would always be the driving emotion, at least at this moment I am more proud than I could ever express and I have a much greater understanding of the military moms I have met along the way. It is not that they are not worried, it’s that they don’t let that worry eat them up the way I did. so here I find myself thinking what can I do to help? When I first joined Marine parent support groups I would read what the other moms said and would think that it was silly when they said things like “now I have many sons”, I get it now though, now I understand, I have many sons. My heart belongs to all of our service members. Every happy story I see or read, I celebrate with them, every heart breaking story, I grieve along side them and/or their families. This is why I have decided to send care packages to our deployed troops. This is why I don’t stop asking you for your help either by donating items to go into the care packages or by donating to my Go Fund Me campaign to help with purchasing products and paying for shipping. Thank you so much to those of you who have helped so far. If you haven’t and you are able please consider donating. We all experience the freedom our military gifts us, many of us feel it personally with a family member bravely taking that first step to ensure we continue enjoying that freedom. Let’s give back because freedom is not free.
Thursday, November 15, 2018
Anxiety
Anxiety. Just one word, one word, 4 syllables, 7 letters and yet what it means to me, the affect it has on me, the weight it holds is so much more than that. A few years ago I decided to share a little of my struggles on social media. My motive for this stemmed from the hope that I could throw a life raft to someone else who felt like they were drowning in their own sea of anxiety. I decided to do this after I was feeling really sad and isolated. This was a few years after moving to Washington, a few years after leaving behind all of “my people”. Someone told me to suck it up and just be happy, get over my worries and talk to people. This was said with love, this was someone who meant well when they said this, someone who loves me and just wanted to help end my loneliness, someone who does not suffer from anxiety. My hope is still to throw that life raft to anyone seeking it. Don’t get me wrong, I have no answers, I just want you to know that you are not alone and that so many others are silently struggling along with you. Don’t suck it up and talk to people (unless that’s what feels right to you, if that is the case by all means, do that), take a deep breathe and know you share your struggle with so many others.
I didn’t always have anxiety. I think if you asked those who knew me as a teenager if they thought I had any difficulty socially they would say absolutely not. I had no anxiety until I became a mom. Something about being a mom when my friends were just being teenagers caused me to feel isolated. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my friends and many of them I still hold dear but our paths at that time were so different. When I started college my son was 2. I had waited to go, partially because I wasn’t ready, partially because I had a baby. There’s nothing wrong with this, it was the best time for me to start, the only time that made sense. The problem worsened here. Those two years sound like nothing but being 2 years older than your peers and a parent of a toddler separated me (I would like to note that auto correct tied to say superstars instead of separated and if you are navigating you’re way through college (at any age) with a toddler I will gladly say you’re “superstar-ing” it. It’s just not how it felt to me). First, I felt old compared to my peers, all the time. Second I couldn’t participate in the “fun” part of college which further made me feel separated. It was hard to make friends. When you say no to all the invites it makes it hard to find college friends. I graduated with one friend. I don’t think she realizes but her friendship meant so much to me...so friend, if you’re reading this, thank you for being my friend.
I’ve gotten off track. Anxiety. It set in, really dug it’s claws in, during my 3rd year of college. It started with being unable to handle group work. A professor would say “ok, we are going to get in groups..” and I would simply pack my back pack and walk out. I just couldn’t. Really. My heart would race, my head would get loud with all of the negative self talk. “They won’t like you”, “you will say something stupid”, “you aren’t good enough”, “you aren’t smart enough”, “quit before they know you so they won’t dislike you...because they will”. Fortunately I was a good student and moments like this didn’t ruin my grades. I have always been a sleep walker but right around this time night terrors started. Waking up terrified, screaming hitting Travis or running from imaginary attackers became, SO very unfortunately for Travis, a regular occurrence.
Fast forward 11 years and I have off and on been an adult. I graduated in 2008. I was SO excited to teach. This was the year that the stock market crashed and teachers were laid off left and right. No job was to be had. Substituting meant new people all the time. If you have anxiety you know what this is like. It’s so, so hard and mentally exhausting. Every time I walked into a different school I felt a little more like I shouldn’t be there. Like everyone knew I wasn’t good enough. It got worse and worse and I took less and less jobs until I was a stay at home mom. This was a good thing really because Bryce needed that for a while. When he no longer needed it I knew it. I knew that I was hiding from the world and hiding really was exactly what I was doing. It got to where Trav and Bryce were my only people. I still talked to my mom and dad on the phone and my best friend when I could find the courage to answer the phone. Sounds strange but yes, courage is the right word. It got so bad that I was afraid to go grocery shopping because I would have to talk to the person who rang up my groceries. I dreaded having to talk to people.
Then things took a better turn. I started working at the preschool. Turned out being around people (the same people) everyday was good for my anxiety. I was again able to grocery shop without having small panic attacks while talking myself into going in. Summer before last I stepped out of my comfort zone and applied for the job that I had always wanted, an elementary school teacher. I was so happy when I got it. I still find myself in awe of the fact that I am where my 7 year old self began dreaming about. I am where I know should be. The problem is my anxiety. I worry all the time. I get in my own head and some days the negative talk wins. I will find myself avoiding people because they must know, “I’m not good enough”. Other times the voice will tell me how unliked I am and I will find myself avoiding adult interaction and when finding myself in conversations will stumble over my words and then later...later is the worst. Later I will go over, and over, and over, and over the words that I did say. I will question what I said, how it sounded, what I should say to fix it or I will avoid interaction with that person for a while making it so much worse only to have a (very friendly, perfectly normal) conversation with them and think kick myself for worrying for days.
Parents cause anxiety, test scores cause anxiety, common core standards cause anxiety, behavior problems cause anxiety. I know, every job has its stressors. I am not saying my job is more stressful than yours. I am simply saying life in general causes me anxiety. People in the grocery store, people at the gym, coworkers, friends, acquaintances, really anyone and everyone in my life causes me anxiety. Last year I decided to try medication. This was really hard because doctors and doctor appointments cause me anxiety. I made the appointment though. I got the medication, I took one pill and was pretty much knocked out for the day. I didn’t take a second pill. I canceled my follow up doctor appointment and didn’t speak to that doctor for a year, until last Friday. I went in for a cough that won’t go away. After checking it out he mentioned the medication and I explained. I found the courage to ask to try something different. He prescribed me something and silly me, took it that night. I thought, this will help with the anxiety of hosting an early Thanksgiving with my family the following day. Turned out it did the opposite. It made me jittery, I hardly slept and then I was more anxious than ever and on top of that I was confused. I kept mixing up details, when different family members had arrived, names, what I was doing, what I was saying. It was awful but after around 24 hours it, thankfully, wore off.
The doctor told me my blood pressure is too high, I have head aches every day and I am on week three of a persistent cough. I think that my anxiety is physically affecting me. I was so hopeful that this medication would help. Lately I find myself trying to figure out how to eeliminate the stressors. I have no idea. I see movies where people are happy and I start thinking “what is their job, maybe that’s what I need to do”. Sometimes I feel like just living day to day is exhausting. How the anxiety never turns off, how loud and heavy it is. I know those words so sound gloomy. They feel gloomy. That is not a good description of me though. I have a really good life. I have a family that loves me. I have a house that feels full when I come home . I have a home full of love, laughter and so much life. I also have anxiety. It’s really hard, most of the time that’s ok, sometimes it’s too heavy. Sometimes it is almost unbearably loud. Sometimes it takes everything just to get through the day. I’m not asking for sympathy just understanding. One thing that has made this journey a little better has been finding out I’m not alone in it. It is easy to look around and assume everyone else has it easy, no anxiety, no insomnia, no night terrors, no waking up to the same 7 words of a song running in a constant, loud loop in their head because they listened to that song 12 hours before and built a day of anxiety on top of it. When someone tells me “I struggle too” it takes a little bit of the weight off. I hope that if you read this and are going through you’re own cloud of anxiety you can find comfort in knowing you’re not alone and you are so much more than the negative things that you tell yourself over and over.
I didn’t always have anxiety. I think if you asked those who knew me as a teenager if they thought I had any difficulty socially they would say absolutely not. I had no anxiety until I became a mom. Something about being a mom when my friends were just being teenagers caused me to feel isolated. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my friends and many of them I still hold dear but our paths at that time were so different. When I started college my son was 2. I had waited to go, partially because I wasn’t ready, partially because I had a baby. There’s nothing wrong with this, it was the best time for me to start, the only time that made sense. The problem worsened here. Those two years sound like nothing but being 2 years older than your peers and a parent of a toddler separated me (I would like to note that auto correct tied to say superstars instead of separated and if you are navigating you’re way through college (at any age) with a toddler I will gladly say you’re “superstar-ing” it. It’s just not how it felt to me). First, I felt old compared to my peers, all the time. Second I couldn’t participate in the “fun” part of college which further made me feel separated. It was hard to make friends. When you say no to all the invites it makes it hard to find college friends. I graduated with one friend. I don’t think she realizes but her friendship meant so much to me...so friend, if you’re reading this, thank you for being my friend.
I’ve gotten off track. Anxiety. It set in, really dug it’s claws in, during my 3rd year of college. It started with being unable to handle group work. A professor would say “ok, we are going to get in groups..” and I would simply pack my back pack and walk out. I just couldn’t. Really. My heart would race, my head would get loud with all of the negative self talk. “They won’t like you”, “you will say something stupid”, “you aren’t good enough”, “you aren’t smart enough”, “quit before they know you so they won’t dislike you...because they will”. Fortunately I was a good student and moments like this didn’t ruin my grades. I have always been a sleep walker but right around this time night terrors started. Waking up terrified, screaming hitting Travis or running from imaginary attackers became, SO very unfortunately for Travis, a regular occurrence.
Fast forward 11 years and I have off and on been an adult. I graduated in 2008. I was SO excited to teach. This was the year that the stock market crashed and teachers were laid off left and right. No job was to be had. Substituting meant new people all the time. If you have anxiety you know what this is like. It’s so, so hard and mentally exhausting. Every time I walked into a different school I felt a little more like I shouldn’t be there. Like everyone knew I wasn’t good enough. It got worse and worse and I took less and less jobs until I was a stay at home mom. This was a good thing really because Bryce needed that for a while. When he no longer needed it I knew it. I knew that I was hiding from the world and hiding really was exactly what I was doing. It got to where Trav and Bryce were my only people. I still talked to my mom and dad on the phone and my best friend when I could find the courage to answer the phone. Sounds strange but yes, courage is the right word. It got so bad that I was afraid to go grocery shopping because I would have to talk to the person who rang up my groceries. I dreaded having to talk to people.
Then things took a better turn. I started working at the preschool. Turned out being around people (the same people) everyday was good for my anxiety. I was again able to grocery shop without having small panic attacks while talking myself into going in. Summer before last I stepped out of my comfort zone and applied for the job that I had always wanted, an elementary school teacher. I was so happy when I got it. I still find myself in awe of the fact that I am where my 7 year old self began dreaming about. I am where I know should be. The problem is my anxiety. I worry all the time. I get in my own head and some days the negative talk wins. I will find myself avoiding people because they must know, “I’m not good enough”. Other times the voice will tell me how unliked I am and I will find myself avoiding adult interaction and when finding myself in conversations will stumble over my words and then later...later is the worst. Later I will go over, and over, and over, and over the words that I did say. I will question what I said, how it sounded, what I should say to fix it or I will avoid interaction with that person for a while making it so much worse only to have a (very friendly, perfectly normal) conversation with them and think kick myself for worrying for days.
Parents cause anxiety, test scores cause anxiety, common core standards cause anxiety, behavior problems cause anxiety. I know, every job has its stressors. I am not saying my job is more stressful than yours. I am simply saying life in general causes me anxiety. People in the grocery store, people at the gym, coworkers, friends, acquaintances, really anyone and everyone in my life causes me anxiety. Last year I decided to try medication. This was really hard because doctors and doctor appointments cause me anxiety. I made the appointment though. I got the medication, I took one pill and was pretty much knocked out for the day. I didn’t take a second pill. I canceled my follow up doctor appointment and didn’t speak to that doctor for a year, until last Friday. I went in for a cough that won’t go away. After checking it out he mentioned the medication and I explained. I found the courage to ask to try something different. He prescribed me something and silly me, took it that night. I thought, this will help with the anxiety of hosting an early Thanksgiving with my family the following day. Turned out it did the opposite. It made me jittery, I hardly slept and then I was more anxious than ever and on top of that I was confused. I kept mixing up details, when different family members had arrived, names, what I was doing, what I was saying. It was awful but after around 24 hours it, thankfully, wore off.
The doctor told me my blood pressure is too high, I have head aches every day and I am on week three of a persistent cough. I think that my anxiety is physically affecting me. I was so hopeful that this medication would help. Lately I find myself trying to figure out how to eeliminate the stressors. I have no idea. I see movies where people are happy and I start thinking “what is their job, maybe that’s what I need to do”. Sometimes I feel like just living day to day is exhausting. How the anxiety never turns off, how loud and heavy it is. I know those words so sound gloomy. They feel gloomy. That is not a good description of me though. I have a really good life. I have a family that loves me. I have a house that feels full when I come home . I have a home full of love, laughter and so much life. I also have anxiety. It’s really hard, most of the time that’s ok, sometimes it’s too heavy. Sometimes it is almost unbearably loud. Sometimes it takes everything just to get through the day. I’m not asking for sympathy just understanding. One thing that has made this journey a little better has been finding out I’m not alone in it. It is easy to look around and assume everyone else has it easy, no anxiety, no insomnia, no night terrors, no waking up to the same 7 words of a song running in a constant, loud loop in their head because they listened to that song 12 hours before and built a day of anxiety on top of it. When someone tells me “I struggle too” it takes a little bit of the weight off. I hope that if you read this and are going through you’re own cloud of anxiety you can find comfort in knowing you’re not alone and you are so much more than the negative things that you tell yourself over and over.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
How I Do It
I
am often asked how I stay committed to my health and fitness. How I get out
there every day and do something to better myself physically. How I manage to
eat healthy and take care of myself most of the time. I say most of the time
because I believe that it is ok to eat unhealthy things and be a little lazy
every once in a while. Life makes it difficult to be on top of it all the time.
Being hard on yourself about the slip ups isn’t healthy and will only make you
unhappy and make living healthy seem like a chore.
As I was out running this afternoon I was considering these questions. It was hot. I was dripping with sweat and every time the wind died down a little I thought I might melt into a puddle on the hot pavement. I kept going though and that was where I found the answer. I keep going because I have to. Taking care of myself, getting exercise even when I am miserable while doing it, is not an option. It is what I have to do to be healthy. We only have this one life. If we give in to the lazy voice in our heads then we will not live the best life that we are able. Why waste time being unhealthy, unfit and unhappy? My question to everyone is how can you not commit to taking care of yourselves?
It was not too many years ago that I had no idea how to take
control of my health and fitness. I tried the quick fixes. Slim fast shakes
that sounded easy but caused me to binge eat because I was just attempting to
starve my body. Miserable with myself I felt like there was no way for me to
take control. I tried fat burning pills. These sounded like a great idea extra
energy and the fat will just burn away on its own. Awesome. Not so much though.
Just a lot of jitters and not much else. Not to mention they felt extremely unhealthy
and dangerous. It took a long time for me to realize what now seems so simple.
Eat real food and move a lot and often. I got to where I am very slowly.
Changing to a healthy lifestyle needs to be done with baby steps so that you do
not feel overwhelmed or deprived.
Start with something small. Cut out sugary drinks. I almost
always only drink water. Your body needs water, a lot of water, so drink it!
Drink it when you wake up. Drink it when you are bored. Drink it because you
are close to a glass and a sink. Drink it because a lot of the time when you
think you are hungry you're actually thirsty (for water!). I used to drink
coffee often when I was out. Starbucks and I were pretty good friends. I slowly
changed to green tea. I am not a big fan of it hot (probably because I refuse
to add sugar!) but I love an iced unsweetened green tea and order them pretty
often when I am out. It wasn't my favorite right away but after getting used to
it it's more like a treat and I do not feel deprived of my sugary coffee.
Another small step that is easy to take are eating fruits and vegetables. If
you set your mind to it and make them a priority your body will thank you!
There are so many to choose from. Don't use the excuse that you don't like
them! Try different ones than usual, try them often. Change your tastes and
thinking!
Get active slowly. Choose something that you don't hate. Walk, jump, play a sport, take a class, get a fitness dvd that you like, join a gym, find a fitness buddy, get a pedometer and make it a daily competition with yourself to take more steps than the day before. Try things that you wouldn't usually try. You never know what you will enjoy unless you give it a try! There is no excuse to not take care of yourself. You are loved by so many which makes it a pretty big responsibility to take care of yourself! Don't forget to take the time to appreciate and take care of yourself.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Journey to 13.1
This February was an interesting month for looking back at where I have been and how far I have come. It marked five years since I decided that my happiness was much more important than any cheeseburger or lazy day. At the time I had no idea that I was taking the first step to becoming who I am today. It was not as if I hadn't attempted to get healthier in the past. What was different this time was that I found something that I enjoyed, something that I could stick to. I think that the most important piece of advice that I could give anyone would be to find an activity that you enjoy because if you do not like what you are doing, there is very little chance that you will continue doing it. Finding what you enjoy doing is the key. Unfortunately finding this can be difficult and giving up on an attempt to be fit can pretty hard on your self esteem and confidence. It starts to feel like nothing will ever work and that you may as well not even try. To the person in that situation I advise you to try again, find a friend to try it with you or try something else and no matter what don't give up on yourself because you are worth it. You only get one life to enjoy, don't waste it unhealthy or unhappy.
I think back five years and remember how hard running one mile was...and how much I really, really hated that mile. I was not meant to be a runner just yet and simply wanting to lose weight and get healthier was not going to get me to continue doing something that I didn't like. It was as simple as that. Sure enough, I quit and decided that it was something that I could never do. I was wrong. I just needed to grow a little and try again.
That decision to try again years later was another big first step for me. For quite a while I found that I couldn't run very far (although it felt like I was running many, many miles!). I had just quit smoking and every time I ran my lungs would burn and I couldn't catch my breath for what felt like forever. It seems like this would be a negative thing but it wasn't. When I quit smoking I felt a little out of control and running gave me my control back. I was actively making myself healthy. I was helping to heal the lungs that I had hurt for so many years and I was able to choose not only to run but when, where, how long, how far and how fast. I think that having this control helped to keep me on my journey as a non-smoker. When I was able to run three miles without stopping the idea of smoking again seemed ridiculous. I had worked so hard to get build the strength and endurance for those three miles. At this point I began running a few 5k races. I remember thinking that a 10k (6.2 miles) was SO far. When I finally ran 6 miles I was very proud of myself but I felt like it was such a long run. For a couple years I a normal run for me was 3 to 5 miles and I was comfortable with that. My longest run was around 7 miles and I struggled through those miles pretty uncomfortably. Four years and many miles, many aching muscles, blisters, side aches and even a few injuries later I signed up for to run my very first 13.1 miles.
I had been toying with the idea of running a half marathon for quite a while. In the beginning of February I realized that I had been putting in a lot of miles and that 13.1 miles was actually becoming a realistic goal. I started looking online for local race possibilities. I was thinking that I could be ready by mid to late March. Unfortunately the local race calendar was not working with me. The closest I could come to this without putting it off for too long was March 3. I signed up. That was another big step. This time I knew it though and my stomach flip flopped right then and there. All of these negative thoughts started streaming in; What if I am not ready? What if I can't do it? What if it is too hard? Then there were the worries that were beyond my control; What if I get sick? What if I get an injury? What if it is freezing, raining, and windy?? It took me a little bit to get past this, and if I am being honest many of these worries followed me throughout the next few weeks of training and right onto the starting line of the race. A little fear and doubt is good for you though. In just the right amounts it can cause a person to strive to be better. I think I had just about the right amount.
The week before my race my I am pretty sure I dreamed of running every time I closed my eyes. In many of these dreams I was about ten miles into my 13.1 and I was exhausted. I am pretty sure it was safe to say that the amount of miles I was about to run was intimidating. Fortunately on the night before my race I slept really well. I was of course still tired when I woke up but only the normal "it's 7 a.m." kind of tired. I wanted to get to the race with enough time to get my bib and shirt and still have time to calm my nerves before the race began. This didn't turn out to be a good idea. We showed up with over an hour before start time and it turned out it only took five minutes (if that) to get my bib and shirt. Fortunately I had Travis and Bryce to keep me company and help me feel ready to run. When they announced that the runners needed to make their way over to the starting line I was pretty excited...and a little nervous still. We stopped and took a quick picture and then it was race time.
At about five minutes into the race I accidentally stopped my Nike+ workout. This meant that I had to start the workout over again losing the first little bit of my race. This might not sound too bad but it was very frustrating to not be able to check and see how many miles (exactly) I had ran at any given time during the race. I quickly realized that there was absolutely nothing I could do about it and decided not to be upset with myself. The first two miles were easy and exciting. During this portion of the run all of the runners (four mile and half marathon) were together. There is a wonderful feeling that comes with running a race, with being in the middle of a lot of people who are there to run, have trained and are excited about it, just like you. The starting line is one of my favorite places to be. At the two mile mark the races went different directions. I ignored the aid station (far too early for me to stop for water!) and made my way left with the other runners. At this point I was trying to slow myself down. I had been running far too fast and knew that if I kept that pace up I would regret it ten miles down the road! At about mile three I had found my comfortable pace and settled into it. The wind was pretty mild and I was feeling good. There was an older man who passed me and I mentally congratulated him on his speed and running ability. I can only hope to be a strong, fast runner in my old age. As I was running down a long straight country road I realized that I recognized the car parked on the side of the road. I was very happy to see Travis and Bryce standing on the side of the road cheering me on and taking pictures! It was a very welcome surprise! I gave them a wave and then was off to tackle the last 10 miles of my race!
At mile four I stopped for a quick drink of water and this was when I realized two mistakes that I had made. One was that I completely forgot to bring my baby food. This probably sounds like a very silly statement. I thought that baby food was a silly idea too when a friend that I run with brought them for us to try on a long run a few weeks back. This baby food is very similar (nutritionally) to the gels that runners often use but is much easier to get down. The texture and taste is very similar to applesauce. It gives you a little calorie/carbohydrate boost and is organic and easy to consume with a lid that goes back on so you can tuck the garbage into your pocket without getting messy...obviously I am a fan!
After realizing that I forgot this I tried very hard not to think about it and just decided to hope that one of the aid stations down the road would offer me something. The second problem that I had was that I was too warm. This wasn't too big of a deal as I just tied my jacket around my waste and continued on. Running with a jacket around your waste for 9-ish miles is not ideal. If I had just gotten warm a mile earlier I could have handed it off to my boys as they cheered me on! Timing is everything, I decided to be okay with it because there was really no other option.
Every mile went by pretty slowly but when I thought back at the miles I had covered it seemed like they had gone by quickly. Thinking ahead to the miles that were still ahead of me was a little overwhelming. Of course the miles behind and ahead were pretty much the only thing occupying my thoughts. I did find a few other things to distract me along the way though. I noticed that there were aid stations every two miles. This helped distract from counting how many more miles to the end and instead turned my thinking to how much farther to the next quick drink of water. Then there was the man who had passed me around mile four. He would make it about a half a block (not that there were blocks on these country roads!) ahead of me. This would take a while because while he was running faster than me, it was not by much. He would then stop and walk and I would pass him. The first time this happened I felt a little bad for him and thought that he must not have paced himself well. After he passed me and then walked again a few more times I realized that was just how he did it. I made it my goal to not let him get too far ahead of me and as it turned out I passed him for the last time at around mile eleven.
At mile eleven I was getting pretty tired. On top of this the wind had picked up (understatement. more like a hurricane came in!) and it became much more difficult to keep moving forward. I leaned into it though and pushed myself to keep running. I kept trying to believe that 2 miles is hardly anything. On any other day this would have been true but I think that the last two miles of a half marathon just might be longer than all of the other miles combined!! I was questioning myself as to why decided to do this and kept begging, pretty please can I stop and walk?? Obviously I didn't allow myself that lazy luxury. At this point I began using mantras. The ones that rolled around my brain over and over were; you are stronger than this, the mind will give up a thousand times before the body will, just keep swimming (I don't know why Dory was singing in my head but she was!). These phrases helped me get through the last two very difficult miles. As I approached the parking lot of the school (where the starting/finishing line was located) I spotted Bryce as he was searching for me. This was a wonderful moment that I will cherish forever. I felt tired and achy and had been pretty miserable for the last 20 minutes or so but seeing Bryce get excited when he spotted me I felt proud. I felt so lucky to have him there to be excited for me and I felt like I had really accomplished something that was worth the excitement he showed. He and Trav hurried to the finish line to be there as I crossed it, that is a moment that I will keep with me forever.
I think back five years and remember how hard running one mile was...and how much I really, really hated that mile. I was not meant to be a runner just yet and simply wanting to lose weight and get healthier was not going to get me to continue doing something that I didn't like. It was as simple as that. Sure enough, I quit and decided that it was something that I could never do. I was wrong. I just needed to grow a little and try again.
That decision to try again years later was another big first step for me. For quite a while I found that I couldn't run very far (although it felt like I was running many, many miles!). I had just quit smoking and every time I ran my lungs would burn and I couldn't catch my breath for what felt like forever. It seems like this would be a negative thing but it wasn't. When I quit smoking I felt a little out of control and running gave me my control back. I was actively making myself healthy. I was helping to heal the lungs that I had hurt for so many years and I was able to choose not only to run but when, where, how long, how far and how fast. I think that having this control helped to keep me on my journey as a non-smoker. When I was able to run three miles without stopping the idea of smoking again seemed ridiculous. I had worked so hard to get build the strength and endurance for those three miles. At this point I began running a few 5k races. I remember thinking that a 10k (6.2 miles) was SO far. When I finally ran 6 miles I was very proud of myself but I felt like it was such a long run. For a couple years I a normal run for me was 3 to 5 miles and I was comfortable with that. My longest run was around 7 miles and I struggled through those miles pretty uncomfortably. Four years and many miles, many aching muscles, blisters, side aches and even a few injuries later I signed up for to run my very first 13.1 miles.
I had been toying with the idea of running a half marathon for quite a while. In the beginning of February I realized that I had been putting in a lot of miles and that 13.1 miles was actually becoming a realistic goal. I started looking online for local race possibilities. I was thinking that I could be ready by mid to late March. Unfortunately the local race calendar was not working with me. The closest I could come to this without putting it off for too long was March 3. I signed up. That was another big step. This time I knew it though and my stomach flip flopped right then and there. All of these negative thoughts started streaming in; What if I am not ready? What if I can't do it? What if it is too hard? Then there were the worries that were beyond my control; What if I get sick? What if I get an injury? What if it is freezing, raining, and windy?? It took me a little bit to get past this, and if I am being honest many of these worries followed me throughout the next few weeks of training and right onto the starting line of the race. A little fear and doubt is good for you though. In just the right amounts it can cause a person to strive to be better. I think I had just about the right amount.
The week before my race my I am pretty sure I dreamed of running every time I closed my eyes. In many of these dreams I was about ten miles into my 13.1 and I was exhausted. I am pretty sure it was safe to say that the amount of miles I was about to run was intimidating. Fortunately on the night before my race I slept really well. I was of course still tired when I woke up but only the normal "it's 7 a.m." kind of tired. I wanted to get to the race with enough time to get my bib and shirt and still have time to calm my nerves before the race began. This didn't turn out to be a good idea. We showed up with over an hour before start time and it turned out it only took five minutes (if that) to get my bib and shirt. Fortunately I had Travis and Bryce to keep me company and help me feel ready to run. When they announced that the runners needed to make their way over to the starting line I was pretty excited...and a little nervous still. We stopped and took a quick picture and then it was race time.
At about five minutes into the race I accidentally stopped my Nike+ workout. This meant that I had to start the workout over again losing the first little bit of my race. This might not sound too bad but it was very frustrating to not be able to check and see how many miles (exactly) I had ran at any given time during the race. I quickly realized that there was absolutely nothing I could do about it and decided not to be upset with myself. The first two miles were easy and exciting. During this portion of the run all of the runners (four mile and half marathon) were together. There is a wonderful feeling that comes with running a race, with being in the middle of a lot of people who are there to run, have trained and are excited about it, just like you. The starting line is one of my favorite places to be. At the two mile mark the races went different directions. I ignored the aid station (far too early for me to stop for water!) and made my way left with the other runners. At this point I was trying to slow myself down. I had been running far too fast and knew that if I kept that pace up I would regret it ten miles down the road! At about mile three I had found my comfortable pace and settled into it. The wind was pretty mild and I was feeling good. There was an older man who passed me and I mentally congratulated him on his speed and running ability. I can only hope to be a strong, fast runner in my old age. As I was running down a long straight country road I realized that I recognized the car parked on the side of the road. I was very happy to see Travis and Bryce standing on the side of the road cheering me on and taking pictures! It was a very welcome surprise! I gave them a wave and then was off to tackle the last 10 miles of my race!
After realizing that I forgot this I tried very hard not to think about it and just decided to hope that one of the aid stations down the road would offer me something. The second problem that I had was that I was too warm. This wasn't too big of a deal as I just tied my jacket around my waste and continued on. Running with a jacket around your waste for 9-ish miles is not ideal. If I had just gotten warm a mile earlier I could have handed it off to my boys as they cheered me on! Timing is everything, I decided to be okay with it because there was really no other option.
Every mile went by pretty slowly but when I thought back at the miles I had covered it seemed like they had gone by quickly. Thinking ahead to the miles that were still ahead of me was a little overwhelming. Of course the miles behind and ahead were pretty much the only thing occupying my thoughts. I did find a few other things to distract me along the way though. I noticed that there were aid stations every two miles. This helped distract from counting how many more miles to the end and instead turned my thinking to how much farther to the next quick drink of water. Then there was the man who had passed me around mile four. He would make it about a half a block (not that there were blocks on these country roads!) ahead of me. This would take a while because while he was running faster than me, it was not by much. He would then stop and walk and I would pass him. The first time this happened I felt a little bad for him and thought that he must not have paced himself well. After he passed me and then walked again a few more times I realized that was just how he did it. I made it my goal to not let him get too far ahead of me and as it turned out I passed him for the last time at around mile eleven.
At mile eleven I was getting pretty tired. On top of this the wind had picked up (understatement. more like a hurricane came in!) and it became much more difficult to keep moving forward. I leaned into it though and pushed myself to keep running. I kept trying to believe that 2 miles is hardly anything. On any other day this would have been true but I think that the last two miles of a half marathon just might be longer than all of the other miles combined!! I was questioning myself as to why decided to do this and kept begging, pretty please can I stop and walk?? Obviously I didn't allow myself that lazy luxury. At this point I began using mantras. The ones that rolled around my brain over and over were; you are stronger than this, the mind will give up a thousand times before the body will, just keep swimming (I don't know why Dory was singing in my head but she was!). These phrases helped me get through the last two very difficult miles. As I approached the parking lot of the school (where the starting/finishing line was located) I spotted Bryce as he was searching for me. This was a wonderful moment that I will cherish forever. I felt tired and achy and had been pretty miserable for the last 20 minutes or so but seeing Bryce get excited when he spotted me I felt proud. I felt so lucky to have him there to be excited for me and I felt like I had really accomplished something that was worth the excitement he showed. He and Trav hurried to the finish line to be there as I crossed it, that is a moment that I will keep with me forever.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
New Personal Best
Less than a week after breaking my last record (8.2 miles) with a 9 mile run I have beat it again logging a whopping 10.17 miles!! I'm a little tired and a lot sore but feel pretty proud of myself, 10 miles is a long way! Get out there and achieve a personal best...it feels good!!
Monday, October 1, 2012
Nine Miles!
Went out for a run today and ran farther than I ever have! Nine miles!! There was a time in my life when I hated to run and running just one mile was a horribly uncomfortable experience. While my run today wasn't entirely without discomfort (I have a nice blister the size of a nickel on the bottom of my foot!) it was nowhere near horrible, it was even dare I say, very enjoyable! I am proud of how far I have come and excited about how far I have to go! Running has changed me into a completely different person and I think that is part of what makes it so amazing. I can't imagine my life without running and sometimes just thinking about not being able to run is enough motivation to get me out the door. Anyway that is pretty much all I have to say today...new personal record (and new goal set!).
My advice to everyone is get out there and run. Don't quit because everything hurts (and if you are new to running everything will!). Give it two to three weeks and it will start to feel comfortable and that is when you just might surprise yourself and realize you are a runner and you like it!
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Finding Health
So my previous posts have been mostly about fitness, a little about health but mostly fitness. This one will be mostly about health. To be fair to myself I need to address these things as well because otherwise I end up a crazy fitness junkie that doesn't know when to quit...seriously. I've been thinking about this post for a few days now. It got into my head the other day while running with my boyfriend. I was feeling really good and had been staying on track with my fitness and nutrition goals so I was a little thrown when my he told me that I was obsessed with fitness and weight and calorie counting. He told me that one day I would look back and see how ridiculous it was to be so consumed with losing five pounds. At first I was like What?? He doesn't know what he's talking about. Once I lose these five pounds I will be happy and healthy and I will look back and say I sure am glad I put so much time into being fit. Before I could think any further on this he reminded me that I have been on the same obsessed loop for about five years now, losing five pounds, gaining five pounds, losing, gaining and well you get it. At first I felt a little defensive because I want so badly to be happy with myself that it seemed crazy to think that maybe I'm the one making myself unhappy.
It is a very real possibility that I have body dysmorphic disorder. Maybe not necessarily this disorder specifically but something very similar. The conversation about being obsessed got me to consider why I am the way I am. Little things (and big things) that have happened in my life have definitely brought me to this mentally unhealthy place. By looking at these I may not be able to forget or undo them but maybe I can move forward away from them. When I was very young I had my son Bryce. There are many downfalls to having a child so young, one of them being you feel socially on the outside. All of your friends are young and mostly responsibility-less. Because of this I began feeling like I was much, much older. You do not feel very attractive when you feel like an "old mom" rather than a young adult. This feeling only became heightened when I started college. I had taken two years off because of Bryce and so as a freshman in college I was older than my peers. It's sort of funny looking back because I was only 21 at this time. I wish I could go back in time and flick myself in the forehead for being ridiculous, but of course I can't. I still remember seeing the first wrinkle on my face and deciding that that was it, I was forever "old". I was just twenty. Since this point in my life I have spent hundreds of dollars on many, many wrinkle creams trying to get my youthful appearance (that I was sure that I had lost) back. I still cannot look in the mirror without seeing all of my many wrinkles, the difference is that now I feel like they are really horrible and that back then I was just being silly. (I am happy to say that I no longer put these creams on my face but I still look in the mirror and see so, so many wrinkles.) Give me another ten years and I will tell you how silly I am being now. I feel like I am holding on to a youth, that I feel like I lost, so hard that I am missing out on enjoying it while it is here. And that is just sad. You would think that with this insight I would just be able to change it but what I see in the mirror does not let me. It does not help that as a young adult I gained 35 pounds. During the few years I lived this way my self esteem plummeted. I felt even more out of place at school because I was not not only "old" but also overweight. I have not entirely recovered from this. That is silly to me because it has been over four years. When do I get to just live my life and not constantly wonder "do I look fat in this?".
There are other factors that have contributed to the way I am. The media (obviously) is a big one. It is very difficult to keep in mind that models are not anywhere near a normal weight and not something to strive for. Another big contributor to the way I am is simply things that have been said. I am pretty sure that there are many women out there that would agree with me that some things, once said, echo in your mind forever.This being said I want so badly to be happy and confident. I am ready to change...just need to figure out how.
Anyway here I am today. Ready to be the healthiest, happiest and yes fittest me. So how do I fix this? How do I look in the mirror and just feel good. I will start by looking in the mirror in the morning and acknowledging how far I have come. I will do my best to compliment myself rather than turn away with a negative image of myself. I don't know if or when I will stop obsessing but I feel like if I can get to that point I could just enjoy my life and that is really what is important right? I am right where I am supposed to be with my weight and my wrinkles are probably not as noticeable as I think they are. All I need is for my brain to agree with that statement (maybe take out the probably) and I will be well on my way to being the healthiest, physically and mentally, me that I can be.
So, sorry for now Trav, you see a skinny girl that needs to relax and I see a fat old lady who needs to get up and do something about it...I promise to do my best to relax and love myself.
It is a very real possibility that I have body dysmorphic disorder. Maybe not necessarily this disorder specifically but something very similar. The conversation about being obsessed got me to consider why I am the way I am. Little things (and big things) that have happened in my life have definitely brought me to this mentally unhealthy place. By looking at these I may not be able to forget or undo them but maybe I can move forward away from them. When I was very young I had my son Bryce. There are many downfalls to having a child so young, one of them being you feel socially on the outside. All of your friends are young and mostly responsibility-less. Because of this I began feeling like I was much, much older. You do not feel very attractive when you feel like an "old mom" rather than a young adult. This feeling only became heightened when I started college. I had taken two years off because of Bryce and so as a freshman in college I was older than my peers. It's sort of funny looking back because I was only 21 at this time. I wish I could go back in time and flick myself in the forehead for being ridiculous, but of course I can't. I still remember seeing the first wrinkle on my face and deciding that that was it, I was forever "old". I was just twenty. Since this point in my life I have spent hundreds of dollars on many, many wrinkle creams trying to get my youthful appearance (that I was sure that I had lost) back. I still cannot look in the mirror without seeing all of my many wrinkles, the difference is that now I feel like they are really horrible and that back then I was just being silly. (I am happy to say that I no longer put these creams on my face but I still look in the mirror and see so, so many wrinkles.) Give me another ten years and I will tell you how silly I am being now. I feel like I am holding on to a youth, that I feel like I lost, so hard that I am missing out on enjoying it while it is here. And that is just sad. You would think that with this insight I would just be able to change it but what I see in the mirror does not let me. It does not help that as a young adult I gained 35 pounds. During the few years I lived this way my self esteem plummeted. I felt even more out of place at school because I was not not only "old" but also overweight. I have not entirely recovered from this. That is silly to me because it has been over four years. When do I get to just live my life and not constantly wonder "do I look fat in this?".
There are other factors that have contributed to the way I am. The media (obviously) is a big one. It is very difficult to keep in mind that models are not anywhere near a normal weight and not something to strive for. Another big contributor to the way I am is simply things that have been said. I am pretty sure that there are many women out there that would agree with me that some things, once said, echo in your mind forever.This being said I want so badly to be happy and confident. I am ready to change...just need to figure out how.
Anyway here I am today. Ready to be the healthiest, happiest and yes fittest me. So how do I fix this? How do I look in the mirror and just feel good. I will start by looking in the mirror in the morning and acknowledging how far I have come. I will do my best to compliment myself rather than turn away with a negative image of myself. I don't know if or when I will stop obsessing but I feel like if I can get to that point I could just enjoy my life and that is really what is important right? I am right where I am supposed to be with my weight and my wrinkles are probably not as noticeable as I think they are. All I need is for my brain to agree with that statement (maybe take out the probably) and I will be well on my way to being the healthiest, physically and mentally, me that I can be.
So, sorry for now Trav, you see a skinny girl that needs to relax and I see a fat old lady who needs to get up and do something about it...I promise to do my best to relax and love myself.
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