Tag Archives: heart

06

May. ’13

Now what?

nowwhat

Ok.  The half marathon is over.  I have officially achieved the goal that has been in the back of my mind ever since I started running about a year ago.  I put in the training.  I put in the sweat.  I put in the fear and worry.  And now here I am.  I did it.  I’m a half marathoner!

Sigh.

Now what the heck do I do with myself??

I’m telling you, I was barely home from the race before I was doing an online search to try to find another one.  This girl is hooked!  Now that I’ve felt that euphoric feeling at the finish line, I want to feel it again and again and again.  And I don’t just mean more half marathons.  Yep, that’s right.  I’m even looking into a full marathon.  If I can do a half, I can do a full, right?  Let’s do this!  I’m stoked!

But……I have to be patient.

Sigh.  The biggest dirty word in my vocabulary, and it starts with a “P.”  Patience.  Blech.

I have oftentimes made reference to how running and relationships have a lot in common.  Especially for me.  And I think this is going to be another good example.  (And, as I’ve discovered since I’ve started blogging…this will probably ring true for a lot of you as well.  I’ve never been more aware of how alike we all really are until I started this blog and got so much feedback from all of you about how you’ve identified with so many of the things I’ve said.  Isn’t it nice to know we’re all in this together?)

So, I have often felt myself feeling this same feeling of euphoria at times during a relationship.  You have a good night out together…a sweet, tender moment…a milestone of some sort, and suddenly, you start to get a little ahead of yourself.

“Look how well we look in that picture…we are PERFECT for each other!”

“Look what a good weekend we had…I want to spend every waking moment with him/her!”

“Look how much we enjoy being together…we should get married!”

Whoaaaa now.

I’m not the only one who has been guilty of these thoughts, and I know it.  I have female friends.  I’ve heard them echoed from them as well.  Why the heck do we do that?  Why do we get in such a hurry to push past the happy moments of “now” into what we think will be the happier moments of “tomorrow”?

Chill!

Ya know?  Just chill.

Bask in the moment.  Enjoy it for a while.  Enjoy this stage and celebrate this victory, this success, and don’t be in such a hurry to get to the next stage.  Because you know something about that next stage?  That next stage is hard.  Getting to this point you’re at now wasn’t all that easy, remember?  There were tough times where you thought you wouldn’t make it.  Obstacles that almost stopped you.  Outside influences that almost kept you from your goal.  Am I talking about running or relationships here?  What’s the difference really?  Whether we’re talking about sore muscles and sweat in training, or awkward misunderstandings and arguments with dating, this same thing stands true.  Each phase takes work.  Hard work.  And yes, the end result is rewarding and it is worth it.  It’s wonderful.  But there are no shortcuts.

None.

So, rather than being in such a hurry to jump to the next phase, maybe it’s ok to hang out here for a while.  The next phase will be there when you’re ready.  In fact, the more time you decide to wait to start that next phase, the more prepared you’ll be.

And the more prepared you are, the more glorious the result.

***

“There are no shortcuts to any place worth going.”
– Beverly Sills

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04

May. ’13

I did it!

“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”
– T.S. Eliot

racecollage7

Well, it’s official.  I’m a half marathoner.

And let me tell ya…it was HARD!  This course was definitely no walk in the park.  (Ok, admittedly there was some walking, but there was NO park. I swear.)

I really am so proud of myself.  Somewhere deep inside of me, I truly wondered if I could do it.  During my long training runs, my legs were so heavy and so weak.  I never made it up to a full 13.1-mile run in training (11 was my furthest), so I was so scared that I might not actually be able to make it that far.  Especially on this extremely tough course.  It helped me though to see quotes like the one by marathoner Alberto Salazar:  “I had as many doubts as anyone else. Standing on the starting line, we’re all cowards.”  Made me feel less alone.  Made me realize that what I was feeling was what most everyone feels or had felt at some point in their running process.  Even elite marathoners.

But, alas, I did it.  I made it!

And here’s a short list of awesome things from the race:

  • I made a running buddy along the course.  He was an older man from the Winston-Salem, NC area.  Silly me – I didn’t even ask his name. Nor did he ask mine.  But we leap-frogged each other throughout the race.  Kept each other company at times.  Chit-chatted about our jobs, our families, etc.  It was nice running a half-marathon and having a conversation every so often.
  • I saw a shirt that said “Slow and steady, my ass! This is my top speed!”  That made me giggle.
  • I saw a shirt that said “Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. (Hebrews 12:1).”  That made me smile.
  • I saw my friend Kelly who broke her foot during training for this race, out there running anyway after only having been out of her cast for about 2 or 3 weeks now.  I was in awe.
  • I got “I love you” and “You got this!” texts from the man I love during the race. Priceless.
  • I got “Run Forrest Run!” texts from my coworker during the race.  Sigh.
  • I got close to the finish feeling like I might not make it, and rounded a curve and saw my boyfriend Richard’s friends (ok, my friends) standing on the side to cheer me on – the same people who I cheered on during their half marathons and marathons in New York last year. That made me cry.
  • I got to the finish line and saw Richard and my son Jeffrey waiting for me (after their own 5K race) with smiles and cheers.  And saw my son (who never ever EVER remembers or cares to take a picture of anything) poised with his camera waiting to snap a picture of me crossing the finish line.
  • I got this from my boyfriend as a post-race gift:

meshirt

The shirt says “13.1 wuz worth it.”  And yes, it was.  Awesome gift.  Awesome man.  Lucky girl.

And probably my favorite moment from the race:

  • My son’s dad called him to see how the race went.  And without missing a beat, Jeffrey immediately began telling him my finishing time and details from the half marathon.  Momentarily forgetting that he himself had just finished second in his age group in his own 5K and won an award for it.  Talk about a proud mom.  That definitely started the waterworks flowing, and I’m not sure he even realized what he had done.  In fact, I’m sure he didn’t.  Feeling my son’s pride in me was like nothing else.

I know there are a million more things I could list that I loved about this race.  But those are the highlights.  Point is – this was a beautiful experience that I won’t soon be forgetting.

So, in honor of all that I have overcome in training for this race, and in life in general – two divorces, two bouts with cancer, a bad car accident during training, a breakup at the beginning of training (which ended up in a glorious reconciliation mid-training), and just a general past filled with doubt and uncertainty about myself and my abilities – this race is for you.

I can do anything.

And so can you.

***

“The miracle isn’t that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start.”
-John Bingham

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03

May. ’13

So Long, Comfort Zone

“The further you can get away from yourself, the more challenging it is.  Not to be in your comfort zone is great fun.”
– Benedict Cumberbatch, actor

Well, here it is.  My last official blog entry before I become a half-marathoner.  Originally, I planned for yesterday’s post to be the last.  But I decided I had just a little bit more to say.  I know….shocking.

I saw the above quote and it really made me think.  First of all, the quote is by an actor.  I’m an actor too, so I really identify with it.  Each and every time I step foot out onto a stage, I am terrified.  It’s true.  I’ve been acting for as long as I can remember, but still…it happens every single time.  And yet I keep going back for more.  Why?

This is why:

comfortzone

I step out of my comfort zone and on to the magic of the stage.  And I’m transformed.  Before I know it, the fear is gone, and I become whomever I’m supposed to become for those two hours under the spotlights.

And now, this weekend, it’s time to do that again.

Tonight will be the first forage out of my comfort zone.  I’m singing in public for only the second time in my life, aside from musicals.  Musicals are different though.  I’m someone else when I’m singing in a show.  But in front of that little microphone on that little stage in our local restaurant/bar, I’m just Melissa.  And let me tell ya – that is SCARY.  The first time I did this, I was terrified.  (I may have even fumbled a word or two but don’t tell anybody…)  But I did it.  And it didn’t suck too bad, I don’t think.  Tonight, I’m ready to do it again.  And you know what’s funny?

I’m not really all that scared this time.

Why is that?  Well, I guess it’s because I’ve already faced that demon.  I faced it, conquered it, and now I know it’s no big deal.  Now I’m ready to get up there beside the man I love and make some music with him.  It’s worth the nerves because it makes me happy.  It makes my heart happy.

It’s magic.

I know now what it feels like outside of the comfort zone when it comes to singing there.  I know the joy that comes from walking away from that microphone after having done something that I thought I couldn’t do.  I know the pride that comes from overcoming fear and just throwing caution to the wind in order to just go for it.

Which brings me to tomorrow.  I’m ready to feel all of that all over again.  Only this time, my “stage” will be a 13.1-mile running course.

I’ve never run a half marathon before.  I’m scared.  It’s outside of my comfort zone, for sure.  But just like overcoming the fear to sing, I’ll overcome this fear as well.  And I’m going to have fun.  And I’m going to love it.  And I’m going to be proud.

Just like stepping onto the stage in theatre, it’s time to step across that starting line of fear.  For a few hours (hopefully not too many!), I’ll again be transformed.  I’ll take that leap out of my comfort zone into new and unchartered territory.

Time to step into the role of a half-marathon runner.

Time for some magic.

***

“Magic is believing in yourself.
If you can do that, you can make anything happen.”
– Johann Wolfgang von Goethe


Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings, Running. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . 3 Comments

02

May. ’13

Community

community

Com·mu·ni·ty \kə-ˈmyü-nət-ē\:  a unified body of individuals
–         Merriam Webster Dictionary

The more I get into running, the more I realize what a community we runners really are.  And these last few weeks have driven that point home for me more than ever before.

First of all, of course, there was the Boston marathon bombing.  Have any of us ever seen such an outpouring of love and respect among our fellow runners?  So many runners donned their printed out “bibs” in honor of Boston and logged mile after mile in honor of all who were affected.  Each and every one of us knew how easily it could have been us.  I have never witnessed the Boston marathon, but I did travel with a group of friends to watch the Wineglass Marathon in New York last year.  The place I was camped out to get pictures of my friends as they finished, was exactly the spot where the bombs went off in Boston.  It easily could have been me.  Or someone I love.  And every runner feels the same.  We are empathetic towards our fellow runners and their families because it hits so close to home.  We don’t know what to do to help, so we run.  We run in honor and respect for the members of our community, whether we “know” them or not.  They are our family.

And on that same note, I have made a few dear friends through running whom I have yet to even lay eyes on.

When I first started running a little over a year ago, I used the Couch to 5K Running plan to get started.  I then “liked” the Facebook page of the same name so I could watch other people through their struggles and successes to know that I was not alone.  Before long, I began posting as well, sharing my own stories and milestones.  It quickly became my primary source for motivation and inspiration and is, without a doubt, the reason I stuck to the plan and was successful.  On this site, I interacted with many people, but a few in particular stood out.  One of whom is my friend, Connie.  Connie was a non-runner who was determined to run a 5K for her 60th birthday.  I was inspired by her story, so I followed her closely and soon began to chat back and forth since we were at the same point in the plan.  We “graduated” almost simultaneously, together with our other e-friend Kristen, and have since all remained close friends and fellow runners.  We are even making plans to all meet in Rhode Island to run a 5K together in the fall.  (Kristen is from Massachusetts, Connie from Rhode Island, and I am from Virginia).

Yesterday, I went to my mailbox and found this:

shirt

A gift from Connie.  A running t-shirt that says “EyeBeeLeaf.”  The note says:

“We believe anything is possible.
  We work hard to achieve our goals.
  Here’s a gift from Connie to wear when you run.
  Eye Bee Leaf.”

How amazing is it that this friend, whom I have never even met, cares enough about me and about running in general to so generously reach out and provide support to another runner?  This truly is a community.  A family.  And it was no coincidence that this shirt arrived just a few days before my first half marathon that is coming up on Saturday.  As my friend Connie likes to say, “It’s Kismet!”

I so can’t wait to meet my friends in person in September!

And while we’re on the subject, check out this message I received on my last blog entry about my fear of this upcoming half marathon:

“Good luck! From Melbourne, Australia!
I just wanted to let you know how much I’m enjoying your writing. I found you when I was searching running blogs as I’m a new runner myself and totally obsessed. You write so evocatively and thoughtfully, and I often find myself smiling or nodding along to your musings! Best of luck with your half, you’ll smash it!
Warm regards, Zoë “

Wow.  Just wow. 🙂  All the way across the world, in Australia, is another member of my “community.”  And I didn’t even know about her until today.

I also received this message from my local friend Shannon this morning with regard to this half marathon:

“There will be a great adrenalin rush in the beginning, but remember to pace yourself and run your race.
There will be people who pass you and you’ll feel you are not doing good enough, but pace yourself and run your race.
You will worry that you won’t be able to finish at some point, but just keep going at your pace and run YOUR race.
There will come a time when you will think “I got this!”  But still pace yourself…and run your race!
It’s a lot like life.”

I hope she doesn’t mind my sharing her poetic words.  They were too good to keep to myself.

So, see what I mean?  We are such a caring community of runners.  Such a family of like-minded individuals from all over, who all know what it is like to change our life one footstep at a time.  I’m so honored and humbled to be a part of such an amazing group of people.

I am a runner.

***

“Running is not, as it so often seems, only about what you did in your last race or about how many miles you ran last week.  It is, in a much more important way, about community, about appreciating all the miles run by other runners, too.”  
– Richard O’Brien

Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings, Running. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . 3 Comments

01

May. ’13

The Wait

Well, it’s here.  This is the final countdown to my first half marathon – a 13.1-mile scenic race filled with unbelievably steep hills in the mountains of North Carolina.  It’s only 3 days away.  And how do I feel?  Prepared?  Upbeat?  Optimistic?  Ready to apply all of these weeks of training to what I know will be an ultimate success?

Ha.  I wish.

I am TERRIFIED.

I am wondering what the heck I was thinking signing up for this thing!  People come from all around to run in this popular race.  Real runners.  People who have been running for longer than the measly year that I have been running.  People who are fast.  People who are fit.  (People who didn’t just drink a Strawberry Sunkist for breakfast.)

I’m thinking I should have bought this to wear during the race:

runningshirt

Because that’s how I’m feeling right now.  Can I really do this?  Am I really prepared?

Anyone who has ever trained for a race knows that the last week before the race is what we call “tapering.”  No more long runs.  No more real “training,” per se.  It’s basically just waiting.  Yes, you can do a 2 or 3-mile run here and there.  But those long runs that prove to yourself that you really do have what it takes to put the time and effort into it that’s required?  Yeah, those runs are gone.  It’s time to relax.  Rebuild.  And wait.

Sigh.  Wait.

That, my friends, is something I am NOT good at.

This waiting is driving me crazy.  I feel like I should be out there every day trying to run 13.1 miles to show myself that I can do it.  I feel like I should go to the gym during every spare second of my day.  I feel like I should only be eating tofu or something.  Oh heck, I don’t have a clue what I should be doing.  But sitting here waiting just feels…wrong.  It goes against my nature.  And it’s making me grumpy.

Here’s another shirt I need:

runningshirt2

So, yes.  It’s a rough week.  This can definitely not be chalked up to the finest week of my half marathon training, that’s for sure.  My positive mood and my warrior attitude is taking a temporary hiatus.  But that’s all it is.  Just temporary.

Because I know what will happen Saturday.

Saturday, I will be standing amongst thousands of other runners who have had the same kind of week I’ve had, more or less.  Who have also had the ups and downs of training.  Who have also, at times, doubted their abilities but yet rose above that doubt and walked to that starting line anyway.  Just like I will.  I will stand among fellow runners, fellow humans, fellow fighters.  And I will do what I didn’t think I would be able to do.

“Tears streamed down my face as I crossed the finish line. I was a new person, a runner.”
-Thomas King

This will be me.

I will add a check mark beside the “half marathon” entry on my bucket list.  And I will be proud.  So very proud.

I am prepared.  I am ready.

patience

***

“Patience, persistence and perspiration make an unbeatable combination for success.”
– Napoleon Hill

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24

Apr. ’13

Brutal Beginnings

beginning

Isn’t that picture just so darn cute??  Look at the wittle chickies… I could just sit here and look at their cute little selves all day long.  Awwwww.  Here chickie chickie chickie…

Ok, sorry.  I’ll get to the point now.

So, I just finished the last long run of my half marathon training plan.  I’m 10 days away from the race, so it’s time to taper down and do shorter runs to give myself some rest in preparation for the big day.  I’m a little nervous since I missed a few weeks of training due to various life circumstances, but I think I’m ready.

There’s something I’ve learned in the past few weeks during these attempts at longer runs – if I can get past the first 3 miles, it’s all downhill from there.  Well, not literally downhill…but you know what I mean.  Because the beginning of a run?  Whew.  Let me tell ya.  I don’t care how long you’ve been running or how far you’re able to go – the beginning just flat-out sucks.  I’ve heard the saying a million times – the hardest step for a runner is the one out the front door.  That is so incredibly true.  (And those next few steps during the first couple of miles are no picnic either.)  Yes, the beginning is definitely the hardest.

And, think about it.  Isn’t it like that with most things?

For what was definitely not the first time, I began to think about the correlation between running and relationships.

Think about the beginning of a relationship.  Now, I’m not talking about the dating portion.  That part is usually awesome.  Everyone is putting on their best masks and presenting the finest portion of themselves.  So, of course, nothing can go wrong there.  There’s nothing not to like because all the negative is hidden under the costume.  So, no – it’s not dating I’m talking about here.  I’m talking about the beginning of the relationship.  The moment when you cross over into ‘potentially forever’ territory.

This is when it gets hard.

All of a sudden those things that were soooo cute before just aren’t so cute anymore.  His precious spontaneity turns into inability to make plans.  Her perfectly groomed makeup and hair turns into something that takes forever to achieve and makes you late for events.  His carefree attitude that was so fun before turns into him not being able to take anything serious.  Her loving adoration turns into suffocation.

Isn’t it funny how that happens?

The beginning is always the hardest. 

Now is when you have to make the decision to proceed.  Just the same as it is with running, you have to remember why you’re here and why you’re doing what you’re doing.  You’re taking a chance.  You’re putting effort into something that matters.  You know?  You wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t a reason.  The things worth having usually don’t come easy.  But, as it is with running, you wouldn’t be doing this if there wasn’t something inside you that knows that you need to.  You wouldn’t be training for your first 5k/10k/half marathon/marathon, whatever, if it wasn’t something that you were drawn to.  Something that you know deep down inside that you are truly capable of and something that you need to do in order to fulfill some part of you that has an empty space just for that.

See the correlation?

Don’t give up.  Hang in there.  This is just the hard part.  Push through this part and prepare yourself for what you’ve earned on the other side.  Like Dolly Parton says – “The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.”  And a little rain is not gonna kill you.

That rainbow is going to be so worth it.

***

“Coming together is a beginning; keeping together is progress; working together is success.”
– Henry Ford

Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings, Running. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

23

Apr. ’13

Unreachable

Someone mentioned this poem the other day and I decided to go back and look at it.  I wrote this a long time ago.  And I’ll be honest – there has always been something about it that hasn’t exactly sat well with me.  You know what I mean?  For goodness sakes, I wrote the darn thing.  So I should like it, right?  I should believe it.  But something about it just bothers me.  Can’t quite put my finger on it.  Maybe because it could be construed as ‘giving up’?  Maybe.  But sometimes giving up is a requirement, right?  It’s necessary.  There’s no other choice. 

Maybe it just bothers me because there’s such a thin line between ‘giving up’ and ‘moving on.’ 

I don’t know.

You be the judge.  What do you think?

unreachableblog

Unreachable

Have you ever tried to climb a tree with no branches?
Oh, it is the most frustrating thing!
You know that reaching the top would be wonderful –
So many awesome possibilities –
So much possible potential –
Such a beautiful view!
But how do you get up there when there are no branches –
No stepping-stones along the way –
No one to help you?
You begin to think . . . maybe this tree isn’t meant to be climbed.
Maybe I’m not ready just yet.
Maybe I should just admire the view from the ground for a while.
After all, who knows?
Maybe there is another tree just around the bend.
It may not be as majestic and beautiful…
But it probably has branches.
Maybe, just maybe
It will even bend down to help me up.
Maybe it’s time to move on.

Good-bye to old unattainable dreams.
Hello to new, realistic ones.

Posted by . Categories: Poetic Musings. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

22

Apr. ’13

Uncomfortable

uncomfortable

I was at my boyfriend’s house over the weekend and his big, sweet cat came and plopped himself on me.  He was stretched at an obviously awkward angle with his little head burrowed into my chest.  Richard made some comment about how much “Mittens loves me” and I responded with, “No, I think Mittens just likes having a comfortable place to lay.”  Richard’s response: “No way.  Look at him.  That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.”

“That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.”

Such a seemingly innocent, yet ultimately profound statement.  I mean, think about it.  How many times does this end up being the case?   Love just really isn’t always all that comfortable.  Ya know?

Let me give you a few examples to explain where I’m headed with this.

I mentioned in a previous blog that I watched my cousin feeding my grandpa in the nursing home a few weeks ago.  I know she got tired of that.  She stood there for a very long time and I’m sure she got tired of all of that standing.  I’m sure her legs were sore.  I’m sure her arms got sore from the time it took to feed him.  I’m sure it was hard trying to understand what he was telling her and what he was asking for through his incoherent rambling.  I’m sure it was…well…uncomfortable.

That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.

I remember watching my daughter once serve as a capo for my boyfriend’s guitar.  No, really.  He was using a capo-less guitar that didn’t belong to him to play a requested song for my family at a holiday get-together.  My daughter jumped up and offered to hold it for him so it would sound right.  She stood there and pressed down on the strings as he played.  It was just so darn cute.  Here, I’ll show you.

156188_4207720234088_345087718_n

And afterwards?  Bless her heart, she had grooves in her little fingers from where she had to press so hard.  But she was so proud to have helped.

That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.

I watched my sister stand for hours beside the incubators of her newborn premature twin babies.  I know she got tired standing there.  I know it wasn’t the most comfortable thing to stand there and hold a syringe up above the babies so that their milk could flow down through their feeding tube.  I know that as a brand new mom it certainly wasn’t comfortable trying to work around all of the wires and monitors to change a teeny tiny little squirming baby’s diaper.  I know it’s not comfortable giving up hours and hours of her days traveling to and from the hospital that is close to 2 hours away while she continues to take care of them during the many weeks they remain in neonatal intensive care until they’re big enough to go home.  But she does it.

jenbaby

That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.

Another example.  I’m training for a half marathon.  And it is SO hard.  I get frustrated with myself at times.  My legs hurt.  I’m tired.  It’s difficult to squeeze in the time required to devote to the training.  But you know what?  I love running.  Why?  Because it’s making me a better person.  In more ways than I can count.  Running all those miles at one time?  No – definitely not comfortable.  But is it love?  Yes.  Love for the sport and love for the me that I’m becoming as I struggle through the discomfort. It’s not comfortable – it’s love.

These are just a few personal examples, but look around and you’ll see so many more.  Watch the coverage from the Boston marathon a week ago today.  I’m sure you’ve seen the picture of Carlos Arredondo.  He is the man who ran alongside a wheelchair holding an exposed leg artery closed for a complete stranger so that he wouldn’t bleed to death.  Comfortable?  No, of course not.  Love for a complete stranger?  Sure looks like that to me.

There are so many examples that surround us at any given time.  Love wears such a vast array of costumes.  And more often than we may realize – it’s disguised in discomfort.

We live in a society where love is portrayed in romance novels and movies to be all butterflies and rainbows.  The prince ends up with the princess.  They live in their castle and with the birds chirping and the sun shining for the rest of their lives.  Must be nice.  But out here in the real world?  Yeah, love is a different story out here.  Love takes work.  It takes sacrifice.  It takes eyes that see past the flaws and faith that believes beyond the impossible.

My boyfriend and I have been through some tough times.  We both have had issues to rise above and move past.  Sometimes we’ve given up temporarily, but we keep finding our way back.  We sometimes find ourselves surrounded by reminders that take us back to things we’re trying to forget.  We sometimes have outside influences that, knowingly or not, chip away at what we’re trying to build together.  And sometimes our own selfishness and insecurities do the chipping without any help.  No, love is definitely not always butterflies and rainbows.  Sometimes it’s just plain….uncomfortable.  It hurts, it’s hard, it takes work.  But yet, we stay.  Why do we do that?  Why are we still here?

Well.  You know.

That doesn’t look comfortable – that looks like love.

***

“It ain’t pretty, but it’s beautiful
Our love ain’t perfect, but it’s wonderful
We’re still learning to be loveable
It ain’t pretty, but it’s beautiful.”

– Clay Walker (It Ain’t Pretty lyrics)
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19

Apr. ’13

Problems?

“The huge problems we deal with every day are actually really small. We’re so focused on what bothers us
that we don’t even try to see our lives from a clearer perspective.”
– Susane Colasanti

problemsblog

I saw the above picture on Facebook yesterday.  The “someecards” are meant to be funny usually.  But every now and then, one pops up that is spot freakin’ on.

(I don’t mean to be snarky with this blog, but if the snark slips out, so be it.)

We humans sure are a bunch of complainers aren’t we?  Don’t believe me?  Go scroll through your Facebook for a minute or two.  Seriously.  Go right now and scroll.  I’ll bet you $100 and a Snickers that you’ll see someone complaining about something.  I’m not saying I’m not guilty of it myself at times.  I am.  But some people just seem to be pros.  For real.

“The people who live in a golden age usually go around complaining about how yellow everything looks.”
– Randall Jarrell

How much truth there is in that quote.  Sometimes I think we just forget to realize how incredibly blessed we are.  And this week is one of those weeks that should drive that point home for you.  And if it hasn’t yet, then maybe it should start now.  Ask yourself a few questions.  For instance – Are your limbs still intact?  Are your loved ones still around you?  Do you still have a place to work?  To live?  Have you gone through the week without being a firsthand eye-witness to a bloody, fiery trauma?

If your answer is yes to those questions, then I’d say you’re in pretty good shape.

Now, I’m not saying people are sick of hearing you complaining.  Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t.  Hey, it’s your life – it’s your Facebook – it’s your soapbox.  Do what you will.  You’re allowed.  But, that’s not my point.

My point is that for you – for your own well-being and your own peace of mind – you should probably stop complaining about things that, in the grand scheme, are really not that big of a deal.  And you know they’re not.  It’s really hard to find peace within yourself if you’re constantly in turmoil.  And that’s what complaining is.  It’s turmoil.  Give yourself (and – ok, I’ll say it – everyone else) a break, why don’t ya?  Chill out.  Relax.  Be calm.  Recognize.

Look around you.  See what others have been through in our country in this one little week.  One week filled with so much devastation.  Fall down on your knees and be grateful and appreciative.  Go hug your kids.  Go kiss your spouse.  Go pet your dog.  Take a big, deep breath and exhale gratitude.

***

“Remember, if you are criticizing, you are not being grateful.  If you are blaming, you are not being grateful.  If you are complaining, you are not being grateful.”
– Rhonda Byrne

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18

Apr. ’13

And still.

bostonpic

And still.

The week goes on.  New horrible news has filled the TV screen.  We go back to work.  We continue with our daily lives and go back to the way things were before we heard about it.

And still.

I continue to blog.  I continue to write on other topics.  But still it sits there.  Waiting for more to be said.  More to be done.  But what?  What can we do?  What can we say?

And still.

Still the thoughts won’t go away.  Won’t leave my mind.  Something is begging to be said.  But I have no idea what it is.

My thoughts keep going back to Kathrine Switzer, the first woman to ever officially run the Boston Marathon.  (Other women ran, but weren’t allowed bib numbers to show that they were “official” runners and to have their results included among the male runners.  Kathrine registered using her initials only and was given a bib number.  Once the “mistake” was discovered, race officials stormed the track and tried to remove her numbers, but other male racers formed a barrier around her and her boyfriend shoved them away.)  Kathrine is quoted as saying this: 

“If you lose faith in humanity, go out and watch a marathon.”

On Monday when I first heard the news, that quote immediately popped into my mind.  And I didn’t want that quote to be tainted by having it discovered that the bombing was intentional.  But, of course, it was confirmed that it was no accident.  Someone did this on purpose.  On purpose. 

And still.

Still, that quote was there.  I couldn’t get it out of my head.  But doesn’t this event erase that quote?  Shouldn’t what happened serve to prove that humanity is somehow tainted now and Ms. Switzer’s words no longer stand true?

No.

No, it does not.

I have struggled so much with this.  And I’ve finally figured out why that quote doesn’t want to leave my mind.

It’s still true.

“If you lose faith in humanity, go out and watch a marathon.”  Yes.  Watch the 117th running of the Boston Marathon.  Watch what happened surrounding the horrible, unfathomable bombing that took place at the finish line.  Watch how people immediately responded and started helping each other.  Watch how perfect strangers lifted each other off the ground and carried each other where further help awaited.  Watch how marathoners ripped off their shirts on the spot and used them as tourniquets to stop blood flow on the injured.  Watch how Dr Vivek Shah, an orthopedic surgeon who was just ready to approach the finish line area when he heard the blasts, continued to run towards the scene and immediately began using his expertise to aid the victims.  Watch how other finishers passed the 26.2-mile finish line and continued running an extra 2 miles to Massachusetts General Hospital where they donated blood.

Further still.

Listen to the stories that followed in the days to come.  Listen to the story of Laura Wellington.  Laura was one of the ones who did not finish and was still running when the blast occurred.  She knew that her family and friends were waiting at the finish line and didn’t know if they were safe.  Once she finally found out what was happening and, after wandering around alone and in fear for her loved ones, was finally able to contact a member of her party to confirm their safety, she fell to the ground crying with relief.  By this point, a couple, one of whom had finished the marathon, was walking in the same area and stopped to ask if she was ok.  She convinced them she was and, after explaining the situation, the man, who had just worked so hard to obtain the coveted Boston Marathon medal, took that very medal from around his neck and gave it her.  Just like that.  Laura put out a plea on Facebook as what she thought was a hopeless attempt at locating this kind man who extended such a humane gesture to her – and was able to identify him.  Brent Cunningham from Alaska.  Brent now joins the list among the many, many little heroes that surround this tragedy.

And still.

Even now, on a smaller scale, look around you.  Odds are that you probably know a runner.  And most of us, not having any clue what to do to show our support, have done all we know to do.  We just run.  Running isn’t going to fix anything (at this point, what can really?), and it’s not going to change what happened in any way, but it is our attempt to show that our spirit remains untouched.  We put on our fake little printed out Boston memorial “bibs” and run in honor of all who were affected in any way – including ourselves.  We don’t know what to say.  We don’t know what to do.  So we run.  We just run.

And still.

And still humanity stands firm.  We are still what we were seconds before those blasts occurred.  We are human beings who love each other; who care about each other; and who rise to the occasion when we’re needed.  We keep moving.

We just keep moving.  A little shaken, yes.  A little confused, yes.  Feeling a little helpless, yes.  But still moving.

Still.

***

“You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.”– Mahatma Gandhi

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