Rock N Roll kind of day

Sometimes even I forget that I love running until I actually run.  Ergo, I see how someone else might see running as a truly awful endeavor. Not every single weekend is promised to be a fabulous, exciting, I am so ready for this kind of day, but what is always appreciated is the reality that once I run I can almost always guarantee that I will appreciate the experience regardless.

Saturday morning we got to sleep in a little and then we had to head up to Portland for the Portland rock n roll packet pick up anyway so we had signed up to partake in a slime run. Yup a 3.1 mile course of Nickelodeon Double Dare style slime obstacles. It sounded like fun once upon a time. However on game day I wasn’t entirely convinced that this was a good idea. But it didn’t matter we were headed there anyway. We lined up and took off for a little run. I made Chris promise to stay with me on the course because I was certain this kind of event would not be as much fun run solo. The obstacles are only fun if you have a partner in crime. 

The thing is, in between slime stations it was really like a trail run. I wasn’t having that much fun. I don’t like trail running. The ground is uneven, you are trekking thru grass and gravel and I’m always very cautious of my footing. Not my favorite. Sometimes I feel like running a 5k is mentally harder for me than doing a half marathon. I know what I’m getting with a half and I can just let myself go in it, but a 5k, can be like torture for me. The slime stations were interesting, giant slime slide into a pool of water. It immediately soaked thru your entire shoes. Yup, like basically getting into a pool fully dressed. This of course happened pretty much first thing so from there on out you were running around in completely drenched shoes. There were some other fun obstacles but honestly not nearly as fun as I had envisioned upon sign-up. But this is how you live and learn. I have to do the events to realize what ones I really like and what ones are a pass. I can’t imagine I would ever do this event again.

However, the entire time I was running the 5k I was thinking this sucks, I don’t want to run. Which of course made me very nervous for Sunday morning running a half. Of course as I stated earlier some days you just don’t feel it despite knowing you love it. Quitting or not doing it is simply not even a thought in my mind. But I wasn’t too thrilled about running yesterday. We went to packet pick up, got our stuff, wandered around a bit and then came home. I had a very hard time psyching myself out to be ready to wake up at 5:30 Sunday morning to drive to Portland to run. What was making the whole thing feel worse was the forecast that was calling for nasty stormy weather. Excellent.  Like I said, failure is not an option.

I was not really in the mood and to be honest my miserable 5k run the day before was fucking with my mind. I was like; I don’t know if I can run this half. I don’t want to. Of course leaving the house it was cold and stormy and wet and I was not excited in the least. In all fairness it’s hard to get too jacked about the prospect of being outside in the cold rain for 2 plus hours. We did make it to Portland with time to spare. We planned ahead to arrive early. So much so that we sat in the car for half an hour while the skies stormed away. No need to stand outside in it longer than necessary.  In doing this we completely forgot to make a mental note of what parking garage or floor we were parked at in downtown Portland. Let me tell you, this is a problem, as post run we had a bitch of a time finding our vehicle. Oops.

We finally got out of the car and ventured down to the waterfront for the start of the race. I forgot that this is actually a Rock N Roll event, which has yet to fail me on the excitement and quality front. As all my previous Rock N roll’s were out of town this one obviously was lacking some of the excitement from the get-go, but I shouldn’t have worried honestly. For the next half hour the weather was cold and wet and I was afraid. But determined. I told myself if I just give up somewhere on the course because of the awful conditions and walk, it doesn’t matter, just finish.

Then as we were lined up and corrals were being released something amazing happened. The weather Gods that I honestly was having some little chats with in my head, decided to have pity upon us runners and the skies cleared and parted and sun shone down upon us. It was never crazy cold out so the hints of sun made for some pretty ideal running conditions in the end. When I started running I told myself to just do my best, whatever that was given whatever the conditions were. But oddly enough I actually felt pretty good on the takeoff. And almost instantly I realized I was actually running a rock n roll event and it didn’t matter that it was in my home state, it was still an epic experience.

The thousands and thousands of participants, the live music on course, the local cheer squads positioned threw out the course and of course the cheering spectators. Portland did me proud yesterday as there were far more on-lookers than I have ever seen at a local event. And after the first mile and people spreading out, I found my groove and I just ran. And I felt good. Gone were the images of dying thru a 5k the day before. And as I crossed the 5k mark I realized that I felt pretty damned in control of my run and like I had this. So I ran. Then we weaved around downtown Portland and I was reminded of the beauty of my state. And of course how amazing Portland really is. When we live somewhere we often take for granted how ideal a city really is. Portland is pretty ideal. So I ran around the city, people cheered, and music played and I felt comfortable in my pace. Around mile 5 we crossed over a bridge into a different area of Portland. And I was still running strong.

Right around mile 7 began an entire mile long incline. It was not sharp and quick but rather a slow but obvious uphill travel. It was brutal in its own way because of the distance of it all. An entire mile ran uphill is exhausting, but dammed if I wasn’t still feeling pretty good so I ran the whole thing. And I was proud because I was still running even though for the life of me at 6 AM that very morning I was certain that I could no longer run a mile yet alone this distance.

Then about mile 9 we were weaving around some beautiful neighborhoods that I have never really visited before and people were cheering and I had one of those epic Rock N Roll life moments that hit out of nowhere. I talk about getting emotional while running and how it hits at weird and random places for odd reasons, sometimes out of nowhere and most definitely nothing you can actually manufacture. They are real moments bore out of random triggers.  It must have been the crazy endorphin high or exhaustion but around mile 9, my new favorite song came thru my ear buds, it’s the artist Wild Cub, Album Youth song, Thunder Clatter. Anyhow, towards the end of the song is this part that goes,  “I hear it all, in the center of my heart, you’re the love of my life, the love of my life.” It repeats this phrase a few times and I just had a moment of running clarity and I felt like tears were going to well up in my eyes.

I instantly thought this entire past year and everything that I have gone thru. My struggles with my marriage, my struggles with finding myself, etc. And then I had that moment of utter bliss where I am running a Rock N Roll marathon, achieving my glorious dreams, blissful in my life, and feeling more in love than I have EVER felt with my husband and so ridiculously thankful that we have both found this place, this thing that brings us this happiness and connection. And the song went you’re the love of my life, the love of my life. And I felt the emotions just want to come out. This right here, this moment is utter happiness. Living my dream, my happiness on this level and having a partner who gets it, loves it and is going along on the journey with me.

And this moment is everything that I love about running all rolled into a single moment.  That very morning I doubted everything, doubting myself, my abilities and my desire to do this. And there I was past mile 9 of a half marathon, having a moment that brings me pure contentment in my soul. The moment that tells me I am stronger and more capable than I ever think possible. That I am happy. That every part of this is worth any struggle or effort I have to put forth. That these moments can and do exist. Moments of perfection and bliss. True contentment of the soul.  And I did not cry but I had to mentally stop myself from the tears coming out. Right there in my home town race of Portland, a random but meaningful reminder of how ridiculously blessed I am. Running saved me. Saved me in every sense. It has given me my true self and my true existence. There has simply never been another single thing in my life that gave me as much self-worth and contentment.

So I ran on, I passed the milestone 10 mile mark and then waited for the exhaustion and feelings of wanting to walk to kick in. Typically past mile 10 is when things start to get real tough for me. But I pushed on. I felt pretty good all things considered. And I just kept running. Not fast. I never run fast but I just keep moving. So I just made myself keep going. Appreciative of the journey. Happy to be here this moment experiencing this. Proud. Honestly proud that I did not give up. Proud that I put one foot in front of the other and ran 99.9 percent of that race. Only stopping a few times at water stations for a brief second. I ran that, despite struggling epically thru a 5k the day before.

And you know what; it did not rain a drop the entire time I ran. I crossed that finish line, was handed my finisher medal and I felt every bit satisfied and accomplished for this race.  This one had more meaning to me than some. This one felt right. I’d almost say my favorite local race to date. But honestly hard pressed to call it a local race since it really is still a Rock N Roll epic sized race.

After wards we hit up the tents and after crap for a little while and about 30 minutes post finish, it started storming and raining epically. We immediately headed back to the car, but then realized we completely did not remember what exact parking garage it was and downtown has parking garages on pretty much every corner. Oops, nothing like getting soaked while searching for your vehicle. We managed to avoid the rain the entire 13.1 miles but then ended up soaked nonetheless. At least we weren’t running in it. That joy will be reserved for a future date no doubt because I do live in Oregon and therefore will be battling run races my whole life.

Yesterday was amazing and epic and I walked away with exactly what I needed.  That feeling that I am strong and capable. The feeling that this is exactly what I am supposed to be doing in my life. That a few setbacks or moments of doubt do not erase what I am ultimately capable of. So I had a hard time with a 5k race and motivation. But it does not define my love affair with running overall.

Thank you Rock N Roll races for being epic in scope, size and nature and reminding me how awesome a run can be. Now onwards to the next one.  Next weekend we have one 10k run on Sunday and then the following weekend we are off to San Diego for the Rock N Roll race. EXCITED beyond EXCITED for that one. My next half is in San Diego and it will be number 10 of the year.  9 freaking half’s down already. I am definitely proud and that is just one awesome feeling. 

Good Exercise Article

Um, can I tell you how much I LOVE this article. This is exactly everything I have been talking about and working towards and striving for in my balance of exercise and health and mental clarity. This article nailed it directly on the head. For the most part I am finding this balance that they are talking about. I actually shook my head when reading part of it because of how true it really was for me. 

And you will notice that #9 on this list is that they do it for the mental benefits. 

So yes, go read it if you get a second,

9 Habits of people with a healthy relationship to exercise:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/05/12/healthy-relationship-exercise-habits_n_5290153.html?utm_hp_ref=healthy-living

Just as I am

Do you know exactly what I realized Saturday morning while running my 6.55 quarter marathon? Fuck the rest of the world. Yup, you heard it here first. I am simply perfect just the way I am. I am good enough. I am strong enough. I am a real woman and I am really proud of who I am. I have worked very hard, and it’s taken me a hell of a long time to come to any of these realizations and to be honest, I am good enough for me. Because guess what, I am happy. And anyone or anything in my life that tries to take that from me or makes me question it, is not worth dwelling on. I am in charge of my own life and therefore I get to decide how much weight I give others in my world. No matter what, if they are trying to help me or do what’s best, in the end only I know what is really going on in my world.

Running Saturday morning was EXACTLY what I needed. I knew it. I sensed it for days. I knew the one and only thing that would bring me any sort of clarity on my chaotic mind frame was a good run. Somewhere among the pain and fun of running, I do my best thinking. Somewhere intermingled with all those endorphins is the true clarity of my life. This is why I am so addicted to running and honestly always have been. There is not a single moment where I find more truth in my life than when I am in the middle of a hard fought battle. I say running long distance is a battle, a battle of mind more than anything. And when I break down my mind to the simplest moments, is when I realize what is ultimately important and what drives me.

Clearly there is no way of knowing, but I suspect when they say when you have a near death experience and your life flashes before your eyes, you see what really matters, what is most important to you. I have not had a true near death experience to compare, but I feel on some level this is probably in the same realm as that. I’m not comparing running to a near death experience, just that in order to find clarity you have to lose yourself completely. For me it happens to be running that gives me this clarity. And honestly a short little run ususally doesn’t do it. It’s when you are knee deep in the trenches when you have to dig down and find your true motivation to keep going that you can see things just so much more clearly.

This particular run on Saturday morning was a woman’s only event. Generally speaking I am not a huge fan of women only events but I do see why they exist. It is that whole female empowerment and of course it allows women who might otherwise be intimidated to participate a more relaxed environment to hang out with other women. What is great is that there were actually like over 2400 female participants. I did not realize it was quite as large of an event as it was. There were almost 1000 women doing the quarter marathon. I don’t go out to be the best or even to compete. I had no idea where I was in the process until we did a turn around. We were doing an out and back course and when you run back you get to see all your fellow participants coming towards you the opposite way. This occurred right around mile 3.5 or so. It was in this moment, when I saw all the awesome women, some running, some walking that I had this major moment of distinct clarity. That moment that told me, God Damn-it, Why am I so hard on myself? Look at all these happy healthy women with varying degrees of ability and motivation out here enjoying their lives for their own personal reasons. And somehow, I am struggling because I am not good enough? Seeing these women, as I was running back, was so inspiring to me. It is in these moments where I was able to talk thru my problems in my head. It was in that moment that I’m like, fuck it, I really am perfectly okay just as I am? Who really cares what I weigh? Who really cares how much muscle I have or don’t have? Who really cares how many days I go to the gym or not? No one, and I mean no one can take away my accomplishments from me.

Here I am, Saturday morning, being incredibly healthy and active, running 6.55 miles for the hell of it, sandwiched in between running a half marathon the previous weekend, my freaking 8th of the year, and gearing up for a half marathon this weekend, my 9th, and somehow I am supposedly struggling with this whole fitness world? I have often said I have no barometer of normal or difficulty, and therefore can’t even being to realize that there are actually people who don’t ever run a half marathon yet alone 8 already in a little over 4 months. I don’t run particularly fast, which is actually neither here nor there, but I do run. I run pretty much all of it, always. I am a runner. And I am damned proud of stepping outside of myself and my comfort zone to embrace the things that make me happy.

The last year has been all about finding myself, and my true happiness. Yes, I like going to the gym and lifting weights. But by gosh seriously there is not a second in the gym that will ever compare to the thrill of the open road and fresh air and the high I get from running. And yes, my Saturday morning was infinitely better for having run outside than spending an hour in the gym. I know this.

I also had another wonderful realization while running, I am strong and athletic and capable and if that means weighing 150 something pounds that’s perfectly okay. What is not perhaps perfectly okay is the throw away food choices I have been making. It’s not that it matters all that much but for me, because I love me and I want to be as happy and healthy as possible, I need to eat better. To fuel myself. To love myself. Not because anyone else gets to tell me I am not perfect just the way I am, but because I would feel better with better nutrition.

I think somewhere in the past year, with all the self-love and happiness I have found, it has become impossible for me to go backwards. And by that I mean, sure I have a moment here and there where I can belittle myself or get down on myself and want to do drastic obsessive behaviors, but ultimately I care far too much about the quality of my life to partake in stupid childish games. This is me, this is my life, and if from time to time that means indulging in French fries and margaritas then so be it. And if those indulgences keep me weighing 150 something pounds for the duration of my life I don’t honestly care.

I am almost 35 years old. I don’t need anyone else’s approval to be happy or be the woman that I want to be. I am in love with my life. I am in love with my husband. I am in love with the exciting adventures I have planned for myself. This is how life is supposed to be lived. I spend more days happy than not. The past 6 months, and more specifically 3 months in particular have taught me how crazy amazingly good life can be. I, forever more, will choose me and my happiness. Especially when it’s healthy. I am not talking about being happy while partaking in dangerous or destructive activities. I’m not spending my weekends drinking myself into stoppers’ or gambling away all my money and possessions. For goodness sakes I’m running half marathons.

I have always run. It just took this long to realize that the half marathon and organized races were completely within my ability. I honestly had no clue I could live the life I am living now. I am so proud that for some reason I took that first step and hit submit for my first half marathon. It has truly changed the course and direction of my entire life.

So today, I am no longer upset, as predicted. I accept that perhaps I can’t have it “all”, but I can my own happiness. I can go to the gym during the week and give my all each day. Maybe some days it’s not as much as others, but it doesn’t really matter. I will have my version of it all. And that is good enough. I am good enough.

All I have ever wanted out of life, my entire life, is happiness. At my core, I just wanted to feel content and happy and loved. It’s easy to lose sight of the true goal. My goal in losing weight was never about being a body builder muscle woman. It was never about being the tinniest most miserable food deprived woman I could be. Every single time I tried to lose weight it was simply so that I could start living my life and be happy. I’m here, I’m doing it, and I’m living my life right now. Why on earth should I allow anyone or anything to steal my thunder and change that?

Running is my single best form of therapy, completely exhibited by my profound mental shift after Saturday morning. I simply could not stop smiling during my run, despite being tired and wanting to quit. I also knew that I was simply good enough. I knew that amongst all these brave amazing women who showed up to run, that I belong. That in this world, I completely 100% belong. I am a runner. I am a strong woman. I represent all the fighters, the women who struggle, the not so perfect naturally born athletes. I am the epitome of heart and determination. I have the heart of a runner no matter what. There is simply nothing that can take this away from me. I simply won’t allow it.

Obviously I still struggle. Obviously I still have hiccups in the road, and it takes an occasional detour to remind me how much I am on the right track. How much I have to treasure the things in my life that are right. I am no longer striving for perfection or that elusive thing that will make me happy. I just am happy right now, just as I am.

And I became infinitely thankful for the people in my life who love me and support me. I instantly felt blessed that I had a husband who has gone along with me on this wild ride and who genuinely gets it too. The fact that I found someone who loves me enough to give it a try and then all on his own found the love for it is beyond amazing. I am thankful for my mother who is my rock and dispenses her infinite wisdom without even realizing its full impact on me.

Sunday morning I got up and did my 5k walk with my mom. I was beyond proud of her. This is the third 5K I’ve made her do with me and this is the first one where all on her own she decided she wanted to jog for periods of time. I told her I was right there with her and whenever she wanted to jog let’s go and then we could stop whenever she needed. I could tell she was pushing herself and she was proud of herself and I was beyond proud of her. An awesome way to celebrate Mother’s Day with my mom.

Today I feel much calmer and more accepting of life as it is. I will go to the gym tonight, smile and be happy in my own imperfections. After all, I know that I am only less than a week away from the thrill and high of another half marathon. Until then, I will go to the gym and smile with my friends I have there and pick up some heavy shit.

"Game On"

Ah yes, my soul does indeed know what I need to do to heal, but that pesky mind wants to keep stewing and stewing over things. Honestly, I do feel better today, but I mean, I’m not 100%. I am not really sure why this has bothered me so much. I think that is what I am really trying to figure out. In all reality it’s probably a buildup of months of pent up emotions in terms of conflict between strength training and running. I know the concepts don’t generally mix. This is why you rarely see incredibly buff ripped people out running races and contrary runners don’t tend to hang out at the dumbbell rack at the gym. I of course have to debunk all logic and want it all. I am always an overachiever :) Okay, that was a joke. But honestly, I kind of do want it all. What is all possible for me that is.

I have tried to break down what is causing me concern. I feel like at its core there are 2 issues. The first is really my general lack of concern or care of my nutrition. Which results in a weight gain. It unto itself is not awful, but it’s that whole catch it before it keeps going up and up thing. For the record I officially weighed myself this morning when I got up, the way I have always weighed myself, and I was 152 pounds. So my official start weight as you will is 152 pounds. The problem is that it’s always been pretty hard for me to get to jacked or upset about weighing 152 pounds. I am happy, and loving my life, so what that I weigh 152 pounds. It’s just retarded. Whatever. That is issue one.

Issue 2 is that I feel like my weight and increasing measurements were used as a tool against me to illustrate some nonexistent point that running is causing some sort of backwards spiral in my life. What I am actually more certain is happening is the balancing out of my life. I knew this would happen. I have pretty much been at the gym for a year now and as predicted I am not going and or giving it quite as much as I did when I started. I knew this would happen. Yup, I jumped in 200% in the beginning as I always do, and one cannot carry on at that level forever. That was going to happen. I still go like all the time, but whatever.

When my weight was recorded as 135 that was one tiny blip in time. As well all know, when we reach our lowest weight, it does not sustain. Sure, I’d love to be 135 pounds if it didn’t require my every thought and purpose in life to be about 100% clean eating and excessive training. 135 has never been obtainable or realistic for me. Maybe if I were 20 years old and came from a slender genetic pool where my highest weight was like 160 or something. Let’s be honest, those of us who have ever breached the 200 pound mark in life know that being 135 pounds is just not going to be a reality. Try as I might, 135 is not realistic for my life. What difference does it make if I am 135 pounds anyway? Good God, I am almost 35 years old, married, active, enjoying my life. I do not need to be 135 pounds. I actually found myself defending my weight in my meeting with Amanda. Like she had some expectation that I should be 135 pounds and I literally, almost defensively told her, that is just not realistic and is never going to happen for me. Sure, I am not exactly thrilled at 155 pounds; the official weight she recorded for me, but that honestly 145 is much more realistic given my history.

I flat out told her I wanted to live my life and I could not at 135 pounds. So going by all this logic, 145 pounds is honestly much more ideal for me. I know that in my heart at this point. I weighed 152 this morning. That is like 7 pounds. I’m breaking the scales as we speak.

However, all of this extra pressure and leaving me feeling MAD, has done something, sparked some fire under my ass that has been missing for months. So for good or bad, Amanda is doing her personal trainer job and inadvertently motivated me to prove a point. I am one stubborn bitch you see. My mom actually looked at me last night and said, wow you are stubborn. And I shook my head and said, yup, you got it.

I feel like running is the scape goat at the gym for the excuse as to why I have gained weight. I feel like I am being told that I am struggling and not maintaining because I have gone back to my running ways. I kind of have this fire under my ass that says, fine, you want to blame something, I’ll show you. I’ll show you all, ha ha. You want me to lose 10-15 pounds, done. I’ll lose the weight and I’ll come back and show you that it’s not the running. It was never the running. Stubborn Emily rears her ugly head.

So I officially make this declaration out loud today, and we all know that once I put my mind to something it is going to happen. I am going to get my weight back to 140-145 pounds. I am not exactly sure where in there, but somewhere in that range. I weighed today, 152. I will weigh on Thursday mornings as I have done in the past. I just didn’t weigh yesterday but figured today would be fine. So Next Thursday I will report back here what my weight is.

I ate perfect yesterday because I decided I was going to and I was mad. I am going to eat perfect today because I have simply decided I am going to. That is how my mind has always worked. I know spite is not a good reason to lose weight, but for right now, it’s as good of a reason as any. I would not generally recommend spite as a motivating factor in your weight loss endeavors, but given that realistically I have like 10 pounds to lose I am not too worried about it. It’s as good of a reason as any at this point.

Honesty to God, all of this seems so stupid and petty to me. I am happy. But I also like a challenge. I like the mental push to have something to work towards. So I guess in a way Amanda really is doing her job exactly. Not sure this was how she intended to motivate me. I am sure her intent was to sway me back to her “side”, the side that says I need to lift heavier and run less. Persuade me into action by showing me numbers. At this point numbers don’t mean a ton to me. But I’ll bite. I am pissed. I am heated. I am encouraged and I have made a goal as a result. No one is going to tell me what is best for my life. I am the captain of my own ship, you know.

In all honesty, I know what is really happening and I feel sad, I think she feels like I am pulling away from her. I am honestly not pulling away from her or our friendship. I adore her. I just don’t have as much time to devote to the gym as I once did. My relationship with my husband is more important. My relationship with my mental health is so ridiculously important. Let’s face it, I’m nutty. Never denied that. And if I have something in my life that calms the mental cobwebs and frees me and helps balance me then I need to embrace that. Running is that for me. It always has been.

Of course, I want to still lift heavy. I love muscles. I am not at all debunking the world of strength training. My body literally thrives on muscles. It wants to build them up nice and strong. I want to keep lifting heavy, or as heavy as my tired body shall allow and then just go and run for fun. Not everything has to be so life and death. I mean, seriously, are you kidding me. I wake up on my weekends and go run. I run half marathons pretty much every other weekend. Then I go to the gym and I lift pretty heavy things. I may be officially 152 pounds today, this morning whereas once upon a time I was 140 something pounds, but again…. I know I have a lot more muscle up in there now than I once did. Is any of this really so bad?

I honestly think a couple day break from the gym is exactly what I need. I am less worked up today than yesterday, despite what this post may indicate. And I know after I get a nice 6.55 mile run tomorrow I will feel even better. I can’t tell you how much I just want to go and run and lose myself in my head and that running world. Even if I have to wake up at 5:45 AM to do it. Even if I have to run in the rain. Even if I am going alone. None of that matters when the whistle blows and I start running. That is my sanctuary. That is my happy zone. For the record I only signed up for the quarter marathon, 6.55 miles because next weekend is the Portland Rock and Roll Half and I just didn’t feel like running another half this weekend, when I did one last weekend and will do one next weekend. 6.55 miles seems more manageable. Nonetheless, I run tomorrow morning. Then I am scooting over and picking up our race packets for the Mother’s Day 5k I am doing with my mom. We will walk Sunday morning and it will be great. I get to spend Mother’s Day morning walking with my mom. It is perfect honestly!

I think taking the mental break from the gym is exactly what is in order for the weekend. I will no doubt be ready to go Monday night after work, ready to kill it at the gym, lifting some heavy shit. Let’s not forget the “game on” flip has been activated in my head, and it’s time to buckle down, and lose 10 pounds to appease the naysayers. No worries. I got this. Now off to drink a gallon of water. Make sure and tell all the amazing momma’s in your life just how special they are this weekend.

Photos don't lie

For all this talk of gaining weight and feeling inferior or defeated or or like I'm really messing things up, I just wanted some photographic perspective and proof of what I look like, today, this moment to be exact. Sure things could always be better, but I don't look awful and I still have muscles.... It seems really stupid that this is even an issue....

This is the moment

Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.
I am not superwoman.
Rock Bottom.
The Break Up.
The dirty shameful secret.
Disappointment and Resentment.
Why Can’t I just be Normal?

These are all titles I have been running thru my head for the past two days on how to write this very not fun post. In all fairness I don’t want to write this non fun post. Who likes to write non-fun posts? The dirty shameful secret I have been carrying around for months is that my effort and desire and thus motivation have all but disappeared. The more I run, the more I become immersed in this happy magical land of running, the less desire I have to go to the gym or focus on appearance driven endeavors. What this ultimately does is cause a big rift between not only myself but my trainer.

The break up I am referring to is the ultimately horrific conversation I had last night with my trainer Amanda. We didn’t really “break-up” but it was the discussion that I have somehow managed to avoid for months but it finally came to fruition last night. It was that talk where I openly and frankly pretty much rejected her world and told her in no uncertain terms that running was more important to me. In all fairness I do truly think it left us both feeling yucky. She pretended like we were normal and it wasn’t a disappointment to her, but I know it was.

The dirty shameful secret is that I have been struggling ridiculously hardcore with my eating. I suspect this is normal, but I don’t like where it is headed. The Rock Bottom comes in the terms of a horrible incident, otherwise known as my own personal rock bottom that occurred Tuesday night. For some unknown reason to me, in a weird uncharacteristic moment for me instead of going to the gym after work I drove home and in the worst moment I found my car driving thru the McDonalds drive thru. I have not had McDonald’s in a year and a half and suddenly I was ordering chicken nuggets and French fries. And I loved it. God help me, but I loved it. I am a fat girl at heart. I have never denied my existence of personal demons. I have them, plenty of them. Just because you find yourself at a place of self-love and happiness doesn’t mean that you suddenly kill the inner demon that causes much of your havoc. You have to fight her consistently. I lost the battle Tuesday night. And it scared the shit out of me.

In all fairness as my weekend running life has been getting better and better, none of that is a lie. I feel so happy and amazing in that world, other aspects of my life are struggling to find their “new place”. I am not going to say balance because that isn’t exactly what I’m talking about. What I am referring to is the place/the role in my life that other things are going to play.

I have done a lot of soul searching the past couple months trying to determine what makes me happy, how much time and effort I want to give to anything, etc. In the end what I know in my heart is right is running. It goes against every law of nature. While my brain is a runner, my body type does not lend itself to running. I am fighting against myself a little. I easily put on muscle and my body wants to. It has no ability to slim out and be a tiny runner. I have come to terms with the fact that I am not a natural born runner. I have come to terms with never being the fastest girl on the course. I have come to terms with my body honestly, but it’s still a fight against nature I feel at points.

There is the guilt. The guilt is this. My trainer and friend Amanda keeps telling me I have a body meant for building muscle. I know it’s true. She is heavily into strength training and at points over the last year obviously I was to. She is sad and I feel disappointed in me that I have backed off heavy strength training and instead am gearing myself towards running. According to her, it really isn’t possible to have it all. Thus, I am not superwoman. As much as it pains me to admit it, I am not of super human strength or ability and eventually all of this takes its toll on my body both physically and mentally.

As much as I’ve tried to not let my excessive weekend running schedule affect my gym time, it has. I do just sometime find myself tired and not wanting to put out the effort I have in the past. Like skipping the gym on Tuesday night. In the grand scheme of things, is that so freaking awful? No, it’s not. But guess what happened Tuesday night. I got a text message from Amanda that said “Why didn’t you lift tonight lady?” Thus my absence at the gym was noticed. Why can’t I just be normal? I mean, many many people at the gym don’t go every single day and their absence goes completely unnoticed. I know I have not set myself up that way. I know I for some reason am judged at a higher standard and for good or bad it is noticed. But it’s a lot of pressure. Mostly self-inflicted, which leads me to the other reality of this entire situation.

I have gained weight. Thus the whole denial ain’t just a river in Egypt. I have been teetering on denial land. I jump thru moments of who really cares to holy shit I have got to stop this trend right now. I am happy, active and healthy. Does it really matter that I am 155 pounds? Not really necessarily. But what does this say that the trend keeps progressing upwards? My size 4 jeans do not fit. This bothers me. I am wearing my size 6 jeans. Now before anyone freaks out, I honestly know who the fuck cares that I am wearing a size 6. I think a size 6 is pretty damned okay. I totally understand this. I’m not mad to be wearing a size 6. But it scares me that 155 is my new norm and it seems to be creeping and clearly is going to continue to move its way upward if I have rock bottom McDonalds moments. I am scared and I need to pull it all back together somehow.

I am not going to lie, I have felt myself on a downward spiral for the past 6 weeks in an epic fashion and I am scared. That is what frightens me the most, my inability to reign myself in. Why is losing 10-15 pounds so much harder than losing 70? When I am 200 plus pounds it is infinitely easier for me to buckle down and be serious. 10-15 pounds is HARD. Don’t ever underestimate the struggle of a woman trying to lose 10-15 pounds. It is ridiculous.

What happened last night with Amanda made me want to cry. When I got to the gym, we went into one of the little rooms, and immediately she told me she wanted to take my measurements. Basically, I felt like I was being punished or picked on and I knew what was coming. I instantly internally freaked because I was not prepared for measurements. What this meant was she wanted me to weigh myself. I had a panic moment. It’s like facing the horrific truth. Stand on the scale at 5:30 PM, after a full day of food and literally buckets of water drank pre workout, fully clothed in tennis shoes. For someone with borderline scale/weight mental problems this is a huge freak out. I have freed myself of scale addiction and this felt like mental torture. I was not wrong, it was TORTURE. Then she took that number and used it to do my body fat and then she took actual measurements, something she hasn’t done in forever. I suspect it was done to prove some wacked point that I have been slacking and my numbers are up.

My numbers are all up. The trend is upward in a bad way. My motivation is gone. She told me she has noticed that I have been off and not lifting like I should. She told me that she can tell that something has been off and that I don’t care the way I once did. Meaning I am no longer spending countless hours at the gym lifting. This is all true. None of what she said was untrue at all. It just felt like a lecture and a big old, I am disappointed in you. It broke my heart. I am utterly sensitive at my core. Who isn’t really? I love Amanda and felt like I had let her down. Why I care so much is beyond me because while I have been disappointing her the last 2 months I have found myself happier than I have ever been. I have found my life fuller, richer and happier than I have ever experienced.

My love for my life is beyond anything I have lived almost 35 years thus and yet I sat in that little room feeling less than, feeling defeated, disappointed and frustrated. In a nut shell, like somehow I wasn’t good enough because my weight said 155, my body fat is up and I am not giving heavy lifting my full attention.

Do you want to talk about stress? I knew all of these feelings were occurring. I knew I’ve been struggling with some inner demons. I knew that I was disappointing Amanda all along the way and this causes me stress. Which is not good for my body at all. No one wants to feel like they are disappointing someone. It’s a very yucky feeling. I have disappointed myself as well. I guess that’s what it boils down to the most. I am disappointed in myself basically because of my horrible eating I think. And because I find myself struggling so much to make good food choices. I wish it were easier. I think this would all be a different story if I were still wearing those size 4 jeans. How stupid is that? I am not going to lie, I notice the extra 15 pounds on my body. I hate it. I want them gone. But apparently not enough to really commit to it.

I feel like my talk with Amanda last night was kind of like both of us acknowledging that we are heading in different directions. She is getting more and more into the heavy lifting fitness body building show world, which in all honestly I find really repulsive. And I am obviously veering VERY off into the running world. Where I find like-minded people who just “get it”. Who understand the reasons why running is good for the soul. I basically told her that I am the happiest I’ve ever been with my running on the weekends and that I have no desire to give that up. She basically told me that I can’t have it all. I can’t really lift heavy and run like that, that these were contrary ideas. I hate that people see them as so contrary. I have never understood why I can’t “have it all”.

I mean, I can’t lift as crazy as I once did. I can’t spend 2 plus hours a night at the gym lifting heavy but I can still go to the gym and lift during the week and have my running on the weekends. I might not ever be perfect at any of it this way, diving my time among the worlds, but I am not honestly looking for perfection. I don’t aspire to win the race, I don’t aspire to do a fitness body building show. Good God, I just want to be happy, you know? I just want to live my life and enjoy the fuck out of it. That’s what I really want. If that means lifting weights at 80% of my capacity and running at 80% of my ability then who the fuck cares? Do what makes you happy, right?

Should I care a little bit more about my weight creeping up? Yeah, I probably need to monitor that much better than I have. I talked to my mom after the gym and my horrible meeting last night and with tears in my eyes I pretty much told mom that I don’t know what to do. Being my mom, you know, mom’s infinitely are full of good advice or perhaps it’s just because it is your mom and therefore anything they say directly to you carries so much more weight, even when you are freaking almost 35 years old, she kind of nailed it. She told me that clearly running is significant and important in my life. That my focus right now should be my running because that is my happiness. The benefits it has on my life, my relationship with my husband, on me is more important. Doesn’t mean that I need to walk away from the gym or other things but that I need to be happy. But moreover, in terms of my weight and my struggling with food she told me something that is utterly true and something that I’ve preached my whole life. We all struggle. So I am up 15 pounds. Right now this moment is what determines if I’ve learned anything the last year and a half. Right now this moment determines how strong I really am. This is where I get to prove that I have really changed. My true strength comes from what I do from this moment on.

I heart my mom. She is my rock. Always has been. I can’t imagine what any of my sisters and or I would do without her consistently by our sides. It’s only fitting that Mother’s Day is this weekend and I get to reflect on how much this woman means to me. But hearing my mom tell me that my strength and courage from today forward is what defines me, somehow made me smile. I know I am not a quitter. I know I am strong. I know this last year and a half has taught me how freaking strong I am. I know I have really changed fundamentally this time and therefore I am not going back. I will pull my shit together. I will forgive myself and I will move forward knowing that these are the defining moments in life.

Standing outside the gym, talking to my mom and having her say, that this moment right here determines my strength IS one of those defining moments of my life. I just had it. I remember sitting in the parking lot at Old Navy crying before I went into the store to try on new jeans because I outgrew them and had to buy size 18. That was a defining moment that I vividly remember. For some reason yesterday felt like one to. I have to pull this together. This is the moment where I realize that there has been yet again another fundamental shift in myself the past 2 months and it’s time to embrace it, accept it, grieve the passing of what has changed and move forward.

I think in a nutshell I am grieving. I am grieving the loss of my desire to lift heavy and focus my energies on that. I do love lifting. Don’t get me wrong, I do love strength training and have no intention of giving it up, but it’s just no longer the most important thing. I have returned back home to my true forever love of running. I have found a community that really gets and understands me. What’s even more amazing is that I am sharing this community with my husband. Can I even tell you how RIDICULOUSLY good this has been for my marriage. No joke, we are the happiest together we have EVER been. I think we are happier today than we were that first year, which we all know is the honeymoon phase.

The life I am building is the one I am most proud of. I am happy. I can’t express enough how fulfilled I feel by running on the weekends, bonding with my husband, traveling, having mini adventures. It doesn’t hurt that running frees my brain completely. Do you know that after I had my talk with Amanda and had to fight back tears in my eyes, my first thought was that I just wanted to go for a run to clear my head? That I wanted to run it out. I didn’t feel like picking up heavy weights, I felt like running it out. That might tell you something.

I am mad. I don’t want to overlook the reality that part of me is steaming mad today. Mad because I feel like I am head to some higher standard at the gym, not just by Amanda but by everyone else there. Granted I have created this image that people have of me, but I hate that I have gotten so much backlash from day 1 about running. I hate that I am made to feel inadequate because I no longer spend two hours each day on the weekends at the gym. That instead I am out living my life, making meaningful connections and relationships and experiences. I am mad that the gym makes me feel like I am wrong for choosing running. How many people choose running? TONS. They can’t all be wrong, right?

I am mad at my gym, because despite trying as they might, they will never give me the high or sense of fulfillment that running on the open road in a race with hundreds of strangers will give me. That is just me. That is my chemical makeup. That is really no one’s fault, it just is. As much as Amanda gets a high from lifting really heavy and prepping to compete in a body building show, I get that same exact rush from running. I don’t tell her she’s wrong for wanting to starve herself to get to 10% body fat to stand half naked in a ridiculous orange spray tan to show off and be judged solely by her body. It makes her happy, I accept that. Running does it for me.

I am not sure I am articulating how awkward and deflating my little meeting with Amanda was. She literally pulled up my stats in the computer and from the last year all of my numbers have increased. There was a 135 recorded in there for my weight and now it’s 155. She looked at the numbers and looked at me and was like, “what’s going on?” This isn’t good. I’ve noticed. It was embarrassing. I guess that’s what it boils down to. I was embarrassed. She made me feel inadequate and embarrassed like I have done things all wrong. It’s a complete weird feeling since I am so fundamentally full and satisfied otherwise. I can’t help it, but it made me feel like the gym was my enemy. Like how can I be this fulfilled in my life and then feel shame coming to the gym?

I am mad at the gym today. But I know in a few days it will wear off and I will be okay. But for today I want to be mad and pissed off. I am going to the gym tonight for class because God forbid I don’t show up for a class. I am going to go tonight, do my class, and vent some of my rage into a workout. Friday night is rest night. Day off. And then Saturday morning I am making a different choice.

Right now I did not have anything planned for Saturday morning. I was going to go to the gym and take Turbokick for an hour with Amanda and then probably her class after, but I am so pissed right now it just makes me mad. I think instead I am going to sign up for a 10k. I think what I need most right now is a good race. I head clearing run. Something that makes me smile and feel good about myself. I think I’d rather run outside with other people who get it, than spend my hour at the gym feeling judged and inadequate. I am mad. I am really mad. I am probably mostly mad at myself, but can’t think of any way to clear it better than just running it out. So I think I am going to wake my ass up early to drive for an hour to go to Portland to run a race. Because that sounds like happiness to me.

This is what I am certain of; I can lose 10-15 pounds. If I decide to commit to it, I can do that. That’s not really the issue. My weight is going to ebb and flow in life. Pretty sure this is what I will deal with my whole life. That is not the issue. Sure it’s a little issue right now that I need to stop in its track before my body tells me more McDonald’s is in order. But that’s not really the issue here I don’t think.

I am burnt out on the gym. That is the issue. My desire to push myself has ebbed and flowed and for whatever reason I’m not allowed to have that normal ebb and flow. I am also certain that at some point it will become really important to me again. I am sure, just as I am, that I will burn out on excessive running at some point, I will return to heavy lifting. This is what keeps life interesting and in balance. Right now it’s time for me to run. I am loving every second of it and I am not going to apologize for being happy. I refuse to settle for things that don’t bring me happiness.

If that means a sort of self-imposed break from heavy gym time then so be it. At the end of the day, what really matters anyway? Who am I trying to impress or make happy? The single most important person is always going to be myself. I need to ease up a little and accept that I cannot be everything to everyone, it’s far more important to make myself happy. So I once again choose me. Now it’s time to take off these 10-15 pounds just as a fuck you to everyone who seems to be doubting me. I am strong. I am stronger than this.

This moment, right here is where I am going to step up to the plate, show my true strength and shine!

Finding myself

I have to say that local races rarely make me emotional. Yes, the big travel runs or important milestones make me a little teary eyed, but as a general rule running a half does not ususally produce deep feelings for me. The more you run, the more you concentrate on other things aside from the reality that you are constantly pushing yourself to run, the less time you spend actually reflecting on the epic-ness of the journey. I try and stay in the moments as much as possible. I have to remind myself to stop and enjoy the process. Enjoy the simple act of running outside. Enjoy the sights, smells and people around me. This is what it is all about after all. However, you never know exactly when or what might trigger a moment of contemplation. I mean, you are running for 13 miles so a lot of things go thru your mind in this time span. This is a long time to push your body at a high level of blood pumping activity.

I had such a moment on Saturday. It was a small, brief moment, but I am still thinking about it so it must have been slightly impactful. I cannot say enough about the importance of proper music selection. A song can make or break a mood, a streak, a feeling of energy and stamina. Lately I have become bored with my music. I added 5 new songs to the mix this last weekend and when those songs played it gave me an extra boost of energy and instantly reminded me how outdated my other music is. Reminder to myself to get some more stinking new music added before my next half. Seriously, very important.

However, this is not a new song nor a new sentiment, but when Avicil’s, “Wake Me Up” came on and the lyrics, “All this time I was finding myself, and I didn’t know I was lost,” spewed out of my ear buds suddenly it felt like a ton of bricks hit me. It was a random moment, a random convergence of mood, music, the stars and the moon aligning to produce this profound moment for me. I think it was in part of that pleasure/pain threshold where I was feeling good that I was pushing thru it all and enjoying the moment. It was like suddenly the words could not have been truer. There is not a single activity or time in my life where I have felt more at home or more like me than when I am there running. Yes, sometimes it sucks something awful. Sometimes it is torturous and I want to quit. But in the same breath it is the most magical freeing experience of my life. The more I do it, the more I realize how ridiculously important this is in my life. How much I was born to do this. Yeah, yeah, I am not fast. I am not some magically perfect born distance queen. I am not even sure my body type was made for running. None of that matters.

What matters to me is how much I have seemed to find myself and my place in this world the past couple months. Well, it’s been brewing for a whole year, but I feel especially in my element when I am running, partaking in the organized races. And then that song came on and I got slightly emotional. It was perfection. Those simple quite moments where it’s just me on the road against myself, and I realize that my whole life has led to these moments. That my whole life I have been searching for something greater, I was finding myself, finding my place in this crazy world and the whole while I was oblivious to the fact that I was so unsettled. In a nutshell, all this time I was finding myself and I didn’t know I was lost. I find myself feeling less and less lost with every weekend activity and adventure, with every mile I log in the great outdoors. Slowly but surely the little gaps in my heart and filing in. Either that or they become infinitely less significant because everything else seems so blessed. Blissful moments and realizations are the true reason that running has touched my life in such a profound way. These are the moments that simply cannot be duplicated.

A Day in the Life

Yes, I have been bad at updating as of late. The thing is last week I got in a horrible funky mood, which does happen from time to time and I was just not feeling it. Any of it. Turns out it was my pre period PMS week and I didn’t even realize it. Explains a lot. Nonetheless, I was just tired exhausted and overall a bit pissed at life. I’m better now. I pretty much think I am better now because I ran a half marathon this weekend. There is something ridiculously cool about that feeling of self-worth that comes from achieving such a cool thing. The more I run, you’d think the less cool they’d become but I am finding that the more I do, the more I appreciate the epic-ness of them. Or rather the more I start to understand how truly unique, special and sometimes HARD they may actually be.

In the beginning I was naïve about what sort of undertaking I was doing with running so much but the longer I go on, I being to realize that running half’s is not as easy I thought. With that said, I’m not saying it’s something I can’t do, but rather I am appreciating my body and its ability to do what I ask of it. I find that it’s a blessing that my body finishes each time relatively unscathed. My body performs amazing tasks and I often take it for granted that I push myself consistently thru the ringer and love every stinking second of it. It’s called endorphins and that is what my body craves.

With all that said, it’s been a little while since I updated last so I should say that in keeping with the spirit of documenting my journey, the previous weekend I ran a little 5k, the Rad 80’s run. It was a nice easy Sunday morning run. Sometimes it’s nice to run a simple 5k where when I hit that 3.1 mark I am done and don’t have to mentally tell myself, okay, only 10 more miles to go. Ha. So I ran a 5k. There was a photographer and he got a couple shots that I didn’t HATE. I ususally hate my running photos because let’s face it; running halves is hard and therefore the pained expression on my face and the funky angles are always present. But this photographer was decent. So here is the stuff from that run.



I realize that a lot of other things have happened between my last post and this last weekend but honestly one can’t recount everything in detail always so I’m just going to gloss over the rest of it. Like I said, not the greatest mood all around.

This last weekend brought me a half marathon and a 5k yesterday. My sister and her kiddos were in town to help celebrate my nephew’s birthday, he recently turned 6. Fun age. He is just stinking adorable. I have to say despite whatever is occurring between his parents in terms of a divorce and such, the kids seem to be doing great. This is a testament to my sister’s desire to always put her children first. To shield them from the unpleasantires of the situation as much as possible. The kids are just happy, healthy, and well adjusted.

Friday night I took off from exercise and immediately after work went and saw my kiddos. They are amazing little people. I did leave about 9 PM to go home, eat some spaghetti and get some rest for the Saturday morning half. I have to be honest, for some reason I was not 100% excited about this one, but I was doing it. I never let myself even think for a second that I wouldn’t do it. I was just going with the flow.

The forecast teased us with the possibility of rain and when we got to the vineyard where the run started/ended at, I had a moment where I was afraid. We all lined up to start and literally 3 minutes before race go, rain drops started coming down and I’m like, of course. But it literally sprinkled for a few seconds and stopped and we never saw another drop the entire morning. So we started and I of course try my hardest to not think about the reality that I am running 13.1 miles. If you honestly think about that as a whole you will get freaked out. I try to break it down into smaller chunks. My chunks are the first 5k, 3.1 miles. Then from there my next big milestone is 6.55 miles, the halfway point. Then I look for 10. And then of course from there it’s just a struggle to the finish. So pretty much after mile 10, each mile I pass is important.

I liked a lot of things about the race in particular. We were running out in the country and after mile 1 we ran thru the most gorgeous tree lined roads and it was a perfect temperature and solidly for a mile or so I had this reoccurring thought and moment of utter satisfaction…. The thought was this…. Oh my, outdoor running how you have ruined me for the rest of my life. No other form of exercise will ever compare to the beauty you present. You have ruined me for treadmill running forever. You have even ruined me for gym workouts. Let me see, do I want to go to the gym on a Saturday morning and hull up in a little room doing burpies and jumping jacks for cardio, or would I prefer this? Every fiber of my being knows the answer to this question and this my friends is exactly why I look for runs every weekend. I want and need to exercise, but nothing compares to the open road, the smells, the wind, the air, the trees, the sun, the everything. I am hooked.

I also had another thought, after consideration and many runs, I have realized I much prefer country runs to city runs. Granted there is value in both. But country runs are just so gorgeous and freeing. Once again this race took a long time for me to get warmed up and find my stride. My slow stride that is. But nonetheless, I was feeling a little off for the first part of the race. I realized that I was hot. Yup, what was rain threatening actually turned into a warm run. The sun would peek thru at points and I felt hot. I was wearing a tee shirt over my tank top. I felt like I wanted to remove it for the first four miles solid. I also knew I had a lot of running left to do. The problem is this, my race bib was already safety pinned on the front of it. My headphones tucked thru the shirt. It is an ordeal to change all this mid race. I kept thinking in the end it would be worth it to run more comfortably but alas, I hate losing my momentum. Back at mile 2 I stopped at a water station to take a drink and instantly choked on the water, inhaling it too fast and had a coughing fit, which resulted in me slowing down for too long and thus making it harder to get back on track. With fresh visions of water chocking in my mind I did not want to stop for too long.

It’s better to get going, albeit slowly, than to completely stop in a run. Once you stop, it is infinitely harder to get started again. I have experienced this time and time again. Then at about mile 5 I spied a giant hill which I knew that I was going to pretty much walk up anyway so I decided it was time to seize the moment and immediately started unpinning my race bib. It was now or never for the great t-shirt removal endeavor. So I unpinned, unplugged the headphones which resulted in a big debacle because somehow in the maneuver I killed my music. I kept hiking up the hill while trying to readjust myself. My shirt got shoved into my pants and then I had to get my music going again. Fun times.

By the time I was at the top of the hill I wasn’t exactly finished yet with the switch but I knew I had to keep going so I started running again. It was hard to get back to it, but I did. Each time losing a little more time in the grand scheme of things. But I picked my feet up and started running again.

I kept a solid pace for most of the run, until about mile 10 or so when I think I give up mentally more than anything else. It has become harder and harder for me to find any extra motivation at this point when my body is exhausted. In the end it’s like what does it matter if I finish in 2 hours 15 minutes or 2 hours 22 minutes? What does matter is how much I am exhausted this second. I am finding it hard to push thru those last couple miles. Right after mile 11 there was a water station where I drank and then from there on it was difficult to want to run again. Especially because drinking 2 glasses of liquid instantly made me want to vomit. I seriously was walking for a few seconds thinking oh gosh I am going to throw this up. Seriously. I know this is not uncommon in the grand scheme of things, people throwing up while running, but I’ve never done it. I felt close to vomit. But I pushed on. I forced myself to run a little bit. Then seriously the last quarter mile to the finish was all uphill. I walked. My body was exhausted so I walked up it, I sprinted the last little stretch thru the gates to get my medal.

I may get medals for doing 5k’s and 10’ks but nothing is as rewarding or feels as special as a half marathon medal. Those babies are priceless to me. Because of the amount of effort and how much I earn them. Thus the whole reality that I am beginning to realize just how much work and how special these really are. Running a half marathon is not something that anyone can just show up and do. It requires a certain amount of mental toughness that you either have or don’t. You can train for it, but you have to possess some greater inner strength to push thru. I LOVE this.

Post run we were treated to some food. Chris and I were sitting down at a table and a nice couple came and asked if anyone was sitting with us, we said no, go for it. Turns out this was one of my highlights of this race. This couple was amazing! They were in their middle to late 50’s, have been married forever, and have been racing together for 25 years. Yup, 25 years or traveling and racing. I was in love with their lifestyle and their cute/happy demeanor. Perfection. They said they did 20 half marathons last year. I said, we are doing that this year and people think we are crazy. He said, oh, we don’t think you’re crazy, no one here thinks you’re crazy we understand. This is what I adore about racing, right here in a nutshell. Likeminded people. Happy, healthy active people.

I often read about how nice and encouraging runners as a whole are. I have not thus far experienced anything to the contrary. I told Chris this is what I love, everyone is amazing and nice. He reminded me it’s because of the endorphins. We all have just finished a half marathon and are caulked full of happy endorphins so of course we are all nice! I love it. It’s true. That couple was the epitome of what I want my life to be. Obviously in love and happy, traveling around together enjoying life. We talked to them for quite a while about running and traveling to run and races. I was beaming ear to ear. This is the experiences that make the whole thing worthwhile.

They had a friend come over and talk to them and they introduced their friend to me, saying that I’m sure we will be seeing each other around because we are doing so many local races this year. Eventually we are going to make friends I am certain with some of these people we see over and over. I am finding a community where I feel connected. These are the things that have been missing my entire life. The things that make life worth living. It was a beyond satisfying experience.



After it was done I was tired but went home, showered up and then headed to my mom’s to celebrate and hang out with my family. Sunday morning we were signed up to do a 5k. I had every intention of running the 5k but then my adorable 9 year old niece Kayden wanted to do the race and I said of course! So we stopped by Sunday morning picked her up and headed to the race. I registered her on site and then walked the race with her. Infinitely more memorable than running a 5k. I got to spend time walking with my adorable little girl being happy and healthy. This was her first 5k ever so I will forever be a part of that. At the end of it, we all got medals; she got her little medal and wore it. It was priceless to me.

She was hungry so we stopped at Shari’s for a post-race breakfast. It was so nice getting to hang out with her a little bit. I don’t see her often enough as it is so it was an excellent treat. After breakfast we had about a 45 minute drive home and the little girl was all tuckered out from her race and food and fell asleep in the car. It was so stinking cute! I could not imagine a better way to spend a morning.



I always feel better after a good half. Now I am moving on to some exciting events that I am very excited and ready for. This weekend is just a nice little 5k walk with my mom on Mother’s day next Sunday. But then the next half is the Rock N Roll Portland on May 18. Followed by a nice little Rum Run on Chris’s birthday May 25. This is just a little 10k, no medal, running totally just for fun! Then May 27 is my birthday, no runs, just thought I would mention that. But then on May 31 I get on a plane for San Diego. This is VERY exciting to me. I LOVE my running trips. So for the next 3 weeks I am totally ready, happy, and excited about all the coolness I have coming my way. Good times!!!!