Tag Archives: running

28

Aug. ’13

Nothing

“We humans have lost the wisdom of genuinely resting and relaxing.  We worry too much.  We don’t allow our bodies to heal, and we don’t allow our minds and hearts to heal.”
– Thich Nhat Hanh

So, I’ve recently discovered something about myself.

I don’t do enough of Nothing.

(Hush up, grammar police, that was NOT a double negative.  I capitalized Nothing, so therefore it becomes a something.  See?  Seeeee?  Ok, now if you will let me continue….)

I have always been someone who is continuously on the go.  Sometimes by choice, sometimes not.  My life is one of constant movement.  I have a job that is over an hour’s drive (one way) from my home, so work alone keeps me on the move for much of the day.  Then, in the few hours that I have remaining of the day, I spend my time trying to squeeze in picking up one child from dance, one from cross-country practice, and even…(gasp!) making time for my own activities.  I know, right?  A mom with her own activities?  Trust me, I know how unheard of that is.  I have gotten the lecture from strangers and family alike.  I get it.

But that’s a blog for another day.

The point is this – I’m busy.  And I like it that way.

Well, until I don’t anymore.

Lately, I’ve been noticing that I’m not handling stress well.  It’s like I’m in constant “chaos” mode.  Whenever anything negative happens – no matter how small said something may be – my brain signals the “catastrophe” alarm.  All hands on deck!  Snap to attention!  This problem MUST be solved. Now!  It’s HUGE.  The world itself will stop spinning on its axis if this problem is not attended to RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND.  Even if said problem is…oh, say maybe I’ve run out of milk at the house?  MY CHILDREN ARE GOING TO STARVE, PEOPLE!!  Milk must be procured IMMEDIATELY!

Good grief, I’m tired just reading that paragraph.

As a friend of mine posted on Facebook recently:

mess

Yeah.  That.

I think it’s finally starting to catch up to me.  So, I’ve made a conscious decision to stop.

Yep.  That’s it.  Just stop.

Now, I’m not going to stop everything of course.  Some of the things I do can’t be stopped.  (There would be some angry, hungry teenagers sitting outside dance studios and cross-country tracks if that were the case.)  And some things I do, I don’t want to stop.  My hobbies are more than just “hobbies” really.  They define me.  I’m a writer – so yes,  I want to keep writing.  I’m an actor, I want to keep acting.  I’m a runner, I’m going to keep running (I’m even training for my second half marathon right now).

But here’s the difference….

I’m going to chill out a little bit.  Or rather, I should say, I’m going to allow myself to chill out a little bit.

I have started to cut back quite a bit on my blogging.  If you’re a regular follower and you’ve noticed, please allow me to apologize.  (Oh, and if this fictitious regular follower person exists, let me extend my deepest gratitude for reading my stuff so often that you actually noticed I was gone.  How cool are you!?)  Being a writer, I never really stop writing exactly.  Phrases and ideas are constantly going through my head.  And when they do, I write them down somewhere.  But the difference now is that I’m not in such a hurry to get to a computer (or a notebook – yep, I still handwrite things sometimes, can you believe that!?) and put those words and phrases into a story or blog entry.  They’ll still be there when I’m ready – when I have time.  There’s no deadline.  There’s no need to push myself to the point of exhaustion to keep up with some imaginary quota that I’ve invented in my head.  That’s ridiculous.

As for acting – I mentioned in a previous blog that it’s time to take a break.  Auditions came and went for the next show at my theatre and I didn’t attend.  That alone was a source of pride for me – I was actually taking a stand for my own sanity and health and forcing myself to rest a little.

But then something happened that made me really have to put my money where my mouth is.  I received a message asking me to consider a role.

Whoa.  Ok, now that’s different.

I didn’t even go to auditions…I did what I said I was going to do, right?  I stuck to my guns and tried to take a break. But to be asked to play a role?  How flattering, right?  Acting is what I do.  And this role – man, it sounds perfect for me.  Right up my alley.  It would be ok to accept it just this once and rest later, right?

Nope.

I politely declined and thanked them for the consideration.  Wow.  I turned down a role.  I can honestly say that as an actor, this was a first for me.  Acting is so important to me – I would jump at any chance I got to play a role like this in the past.  But now?   Well.  Right now I’m tired.  Bone tired.  I don’t want to see something I love turn to something that I feel like I have to do.  I just can’t let that happen.  There will be other shows.  When I’m ready.

Now, as for running….yes, I know I just mentioned that I’m training for my next half marathon.  I know what you’re thinking.  That’s not “stopping,” right?  What the heck is up with that??  I thought this chick said she was going to chill out.  How is training for a half marathon chilling out?  Well, you’re right.  It’s not.  Not really, anyway.  But see – this is something that I really want.  Yes, it’s hard work, but the feeling I get when I finish a run – no matter how slow the run happened to be or if I met any ‘goals’ or not – is one that is hard to beat.  It is a relaxation in itself.  It’s a purging of all that’s wrong with the world.  If you’re a runner, I know you know what I mean.  Before a run, you can be weighted down with all the worries you can possibly carry – and then after the run, you feel lighter.  You feel free.  I need that right now.  I need to create a better me.  A calmer me.  A more controlled me.

A me I can live with.

Yesterday, my daughter and I were sitting in the living room at home.  The errands were done, homework finished, work and school day complete – and there we were.  Just sitting.  I looked over at her and said, “Is there something we’re forgetting?”  She replied, “What do you mean?” and I said, “Well, I just feel like there’s something we should be doing.”  Her response?  “I guess it’s all done.”

“I guess it’s all done.”

Yeah.

At that moment, I’m sure there were other things that could have been done.  I could have went over my sad budget one more time.  I could have washed another load of clothes.  I could have exercised, I could have laid out my clothes for the next day, I could have forced myself to start on my next blog.  But I didn’t do any of that.  At that moment, sitting in my living room in the silence with my daughter, it really was “all done.”  Everything else would be there when it was time.  But for right then, I allowed myself to bask in the nothingness.

There’s an Italian phrase that comes to mind: dolce far niente.  This means, the sweetness of doing nothing.

And it was perfection.

Time to start creating more moments like that in my life.

More dolce far niente?  Why, yes, thank you.  Don’t mind if I do.

***

“The most valuable thing we can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of room, not try to be or do anything whatever.”
– May Sarton

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

22

Aug. ’13

Happy Badges

So, I’ve decided to give this whole ‘running’ thing a go again.  I haven’t officially signed up for it, but there’s a half marathon in November that is calling my name.  Eventually (maybe next year?) I want to work my way up to a full marathon, but I’m not quite ready to think of that just yet.  So, for now, another half it is.

Next week, my 10-week half marathon training plan will officially start, but I decided to head out on a 4-mile run yesterday to start prepping myself for the longer distances.  (Lately, with my time constraints I’ve only been able to work in 2 and 3 mile runs, and those have been few and far between, to be quite honest.)  And even though this run was only 4 miles – not even a third of what I’m signing up for – this thing seriously kicked my butt!  I had to stop and walk a few times, and maybe even got a tad frustrated with myself at times (shhhh… Miss Positive Pants here can’t admit that, right?  Pretend you didn’t hear that.)

So, when my run/walk/curse fest was complete, I hit the ‘save’ button on my MapMyRun software that tracks my routes and times, and I noticed a new option pop up.  I saw this:

happybadge6

Hmmmm.  Rate my run, huh?  Ok, let’s see what my options are.

First up, was this one:

happybadge5

“Finished with a Smile.”  HA!  Well, I suppose we can mark that one off the list.  NEXT!

happybadge4

“Crushed my Goal.”  Hmmmm.  Well, I suppose if my goal had been to survive, then I could choose this one.  Barely.  But, alas, it wasn’t.  My true goal was actually to run 4 miles without stopping.  And that didn’t pan out so well.  Well, poo.

Next.

happybadge3

“Kicked Butt.”  Aha!  Ok, now we’re talking!  Check!

Oh, wait.

Crap.  I think this is saying that I kicked butt with the run.  Shoot.  My bad.  I thought it was saying the run kicked MY butt.  I thought I finally had one I could choose here.  *Sigh*

Back to the drawing board….

happybadge2

“Took it Easy.”  Hmmmm.  We’re getting warmer.  Ok, I guess I could choose this one.  But that would be a lie.  Because I didn’t really take it easy.  Yes, I walked some.  But it wasn’t because it was my intention.  It was because I was mad at myself and I was tired.  And I sure didn’t “take it easy” on myself, that’s for sure.  So….  Close, but no cigar.  Looks like there’s only one option left.

Here we go….

happybadge1

“Grew Strong.” Ok, what?  That’s it??  No matter how much I jammed my finger across the screen on my smartphone, the stupid thing wouldn’t scroll anymore to the right for more options.  Seriously, that’s all I’ve got to choose from?

Oh.

They’re called “Happy Badges.”  Somehow I missed that at the beginning of the instructions.  “Pick Your Happy Badge.”

Ha!  Happy Badge?  Really?  I was miserable.  I was lazy.  I was out of shape; out of breath; out of patience.  How the heck am I supposed to pick a happy badge?

And that’s when it dawned on me.

Everything that happens in your life – everything – whether it’s running related or not, falls into one of these categories.

Think about it.

I mean, yeah, it would be great if we could always pick those first four options.  Crushing goals, kicking butt, and finishing with a smile are always good things.  And sometimes you’re not going to get the absolute best results because you chose to “take it easy.”  Nothing wrong with that, right?  A life filled with those first four options would be fantastic.  Perfect, even.

But unfortunately….  Yeah.  Unfortunately, things don’t end up that way all of the time.

And that’s ok.  Because you know why?

Sometimes that fifth option is necessary.

If life weren’t filled with things that make you stronger – failures, disappointments, life lessons – I don’t think we’d ever have the opportunity to pick those other options at all.  How could you feel the thrill of finishing with a smile or kicking butt if you hadn’t worked through the tough parts to get there?  Where would be the sense of pride in crushing a goal if you had never known those times where you fell short, and had the courage and perseverance to get up and try again?

You see what I’m getting at here?

So, no.  No goals were crushed this time.  No butts were kicked other than my own.  But did I grow strong?  You darn right I did.  I got my butt up off the couch and I started the process that is going to lead me to another half marathon, and that will eventually lead me to a full marathon one day, and that will ultimately lead me to where I’ve been headed all along.

A place where I am proud of myself.

‘Grew Strong’ happy badge?  Don’t mind if I do.

“Check!”

***

“The race does not always go  to the swift, but to the ones who keep running.”
 -Anonymous

Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings, Running. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . 4 Comments

31

Jul. ’13

Burnout

“Take a rest.  A field that has rested gives a bountiful crop.”
– Ovid

I just remembered something.

I’m a runner.

Did you remember that?  Because I didn’t.  I’m tellin’ ya – I seriously think I forgot about that for a while.

I have these little ‘categories’ set up on my blog.  Not sure if anyone ever notices that you can search for writings under the categories, but I thought it was a cool option when I was designing this thing, so I went with it.  I set up four categories – Freestyle Writings, Poetic Musings, Running, and Songs.  When I first started out, I was afraid that the “running” category would be jam packed, and that my readers who were non-runners would be bored senseless.  I was at the peak of my running ‘career’ at that point – training my tail off for my first half-marathon (which I successfully completed in May, by the way).  I was full of wit and wisdom for new runners and amateur runners like myself – hoping to show everyone that anyone can do this running thing and that you just have to push through and believe in yourself and persevere through the obstacles…..yada yada.  So on and so forth.

But then – well, I don’t know.

I just kinda just stopped that.

I just clicked on my own “Running” tab to see the last thing I had written about running.  It was this:  https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/06/04/time-to-chill/  Oh.  An article called “Time to Chill.”  Well, that explains it.

At that time, I was all prepared to purchase this t-shirt and hang up my running shoes:

runningsucks

Yep.  I was done for a while.

In other words, I had been….

running-on-empty

Hehe.  Get it?  Running on empty?  Oh, the wit.

But I digress.

So, yeah.  I had achieved what many of us have achieved in many different areas of our lives at some point.   Anytime you’re passionate about something; you spend all your time doing said something; you dedicate your heart and soul and spirit to the something – there exists the risk of running into that little devil who is always waiting just around the corner to put a stop to it all.  What is this little devil, you ask?

Burnout.

“Burnout is nature’s way of telling you, you’ve been going through the motions – your soul has departed; you’re a zombie, a member of the walking dead, a sleepwalker.”
– Sam Keen

That’s just it.  I had become a sleepwalker.

So, you know what I did?  I took a break.  And I think that’s the smartest thing I could have done for myself.

In the past few weeks, I’ve noticed that I’ve started feeling the pull again.  I started with a few short runs – a mile or two here and there.  And slowly, I find myself inching my way back up.  A 4-miler here.  A 5-miler there.  And yesterday – I did my own little 10K just to prove I could.  Little by little,  I’m making my way back.  I saw a post yesterday for a 7-mile run up and down a mountain road here locally.  Hmmmm.  I have two months to train….

My point is this.  Burnout is real.  No matter how much you love something, no matter how much a part of your life it becomes, overdoing it can be problematic.  It really can.  It’s ok to take a break.  You know?  Chill out a little bit.  Let things settle.  Let yourself remember why you love this thing so much and why you ever started it in the first place.

Are you a runner?  Well, there.  Apply this lesson literally.  But if you’re not?  Well then, I’m sure there’s something you can apply it to.

Maybe even someone?  Now, there’s some food for thought.

But see, here’s the thing.  When you want it bad enough, when it has become a part of you, it won’t disappear.  I promise.  Taking a break is not going to un-do any progress you made.  This thing you love is not going to go away.  Not when it’s real.

Rest easy.  Stop worrying.  It will be back.  You’ll see.

***

“”Sometimes in sports there are times when it is best to wait for another day and try again, at least for me. I see life as the race and I see no honor in reaching the finish and passing out or crawling across the finishing line. In Costa Rica, we have a saying: It’s not about being the first to finish, it’s about how you get there.”
-Roman Urbina

Posted by . Categories: Running. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . 2 Comments

04

Jun. ’13

Time to Chill

takeabreak

I’m about to do something that I have never done so far in my “career” as a runner.

I’m backing out of a race.

I was scheduled to run the Bear in July.  For those who missed my blog about it, this is a 5-mile race straight up a mountain.  When I signed up for this thing back in February, I knew it was going to be quite a challenge.  I was prepared to put in the training and do what it took to be able to run this bear of a race and be able to say that I did it.  Nothing was going to stop me.

Well.  February was four months ago.  A lot has happened since then.

I don’t want to sound like I’m making excuses.  But frankly, I am.  Since February, I have

  • trained for and ran a half marathon.  (Go me!)
  • My daughter has been cast as the lead in a local theatre production (and I have been cast as a chorus member), which means the theatre is our second home.  It takes a great deal of our time and attention.
  • I have made the decision to move into a new home and have had to tackle the stresses that come along with any move.
  • I have hurt my foot in some phantom way (no clue how it happened – but it’s definitely getting better!), which has slowed my running down a great deal.

Oh, I could keep listing things, but honestly, it doesn’t matter.  Because basically?

Well.  Basically, I’m just tired.

I’ve noticed that ever since my half marathon has been over, my thoughts keep going back to this dreaded Bear race in July.  It has been a constant worry in the back of my mind.  Through everything else I’m doing in my life, there’s the undercurrent of, “I should be training for the Bear.  I should be training for the Bear. I should be training for the Bear.”  To be quite honest, it has become a nuisance.  So, after some soul searching, I have decided to back out of the race.

For a while, I struggled with that decision.  I called myself a quitter.  Told myself that, whether I realize it or not, other people are watching me through this process because of my blog articles and my Facebook posts.  By quitting, I am sending a message to my readers that giving up is ok.  That running is not the awesome thing that it is and that you shouldn’t push yourself to try bigger and better things.  I didn’t want this to be the message I conveyed.

But finally, I just decided to stop beating myself up.

I decided to look at it a different way.

Here’s what I want this decision to show you.  No one is perfect.  NO ONE.  If you’re a beginner runner (or maybe even just someone thinking about running), I know how intimidating it is to see these “experienced” runners do all the things they’re doing – the half marathons, the 5Ks, the 10Ks, the mountain-climbs.  Believe me, I know.  I was you just a little over a year ago.  I didn’t think that these runners were human.  I thought they weren’t like me – they didn’t have life stresses that get in the way, or days when they just felt too tired to run.  They were machines, not a flawed, tired human being like me.  Well, guess what?  I was wrong.  They were just like me.  And I’m just like you.  We all need a break sometimes.  We all need to go easy on ourselves and not push ourselves to the brink of exhaustion.

I mean, after all, when it ceases to be fun – then what’s the point?

I enjoy running.  I enjoy appreciating the new, healthier person that I have become because of it.  Nothing will ever stop me from being a runner.  But for a little while, I think I might hold off on pushing myself to the next limit.  I’m just going to enjoy where I am now, maybe enter a few local 5Ks here and there, and just relax for a while.  No pressure, no training, no pushing – just running.

I’m taking a little break from the stress.

And that’s perfectly okay.

***

“It was being a runner that mattered, not how fast or how far I could run. The joy was in the act of running and in the journey, not in the destination. We have a better chance of seeing where we are when we stop trying to get somewhere else. We can enjoy every moment of movement, as long as where we are is as good as where we’d like to be. That’s not to say that you need to be satisfied  forever with where you are today. But you need to honor what you’ve accomplished, rather than thinking of what’s left to be done.”
– John Bingham

Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings, Running. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . 4 Comments

03

Jun. ’13

Warrior Dash (or, as I like to call it: “Hell”)

warriordashpic1

Awww.  Look at the happy little couple with their little bibs on ready to conquer the Warrior Dash!  Bless their little hearts.

Ahhh, the Warrior Dash.  For those of you who aren’t familiar, this is a 5K obstacle course mud run.  We (ok, Richard) had been looking forward to this for a long time.  This is an all-day event, with different race waves starting every 15 minutes from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m.  Our official start time was supposed to be at 12:30 (this was the only slot available when we signed up – these things sell out fast), but we quickly learned after we got there that it really didn’t matter which start time you chose.

The start times were about as disorganized as everything else was.  *Sigh*  But I’m getting ahead of myself….

Ok, here’s what we forgot to notice in this cute little picture.

One – a random flag floating mid-air over my right shoulder.  Um.  What the heck?!  Ok, that has nothing to do with the story I’m about to tell, but I just had to point that out.  Freaky, much?

And two – the angry chick to my right.

Ok, let me point them out for you:

warriordashpic2

Ok, so although the ghost flag is pretty awesome, let’s concentrate on Angry Chick for a minute.  Because that represents what my story is going to revolve around.

Angry Chick is angry.  I don’t personally know Angry Chick, mind you.  But I know a little something about how Angry Chick feels now.  Angry chick is covered in mud, has a medal around her neck, has a fierce look on her face, and is holding a beer.  I’m going to tell you how Angry Chick got that way.  And I’m going to tell you how Richard and I soon joined Angry Chick in Angrychickville.  (Ok, Angrydudeville in Richard’s case).

Let me give you a nice little overview.  Here is a comment that a participant placed on the Warrior Dash Facebook page after the race:

“Warning to warriors: There are far more obstacles than advertised in this race! The first unpublished obstacle required you to stand in line for almost an hour in the sun to get your registration packet from the six people they had working to check in ten thousand runners. While standing in line, you had to try to avoid getting shoved into the back of the sweaty fat guy in line in front of you.  The next obstacle was to try to make it to your heat on time after standing in line for so long. (We were only an hour late.) The next few obstacles were pretty easy, they only involved jumping over fire and crawling under barbed wire. The mud pit was very challenging thanks to the concrete-like consistency of the mud. But that’s nothing compared to the next obstacle. This one required you to get rinsed off from the one guy with a hose who was rinsing off one person at a time. Given these obstacles, it’s highly unlikely that I’ll be attending another Warrior Dash….” – James Lewis

Yeah.  THAT.

Oh my gosh, this race was horrible.

As described in the comment above, we knew we were in for a disorganized mess when we couldn’t even find the line to pick up our packets.  There were just gobs and gobs of people standing everywhere.  Once we finally somewhat figured out where to stand, we stood there for at least 30 minutes before we looked around and realized that this group was only men.  We couldn’t see the tiny little signs WAY up at the front of the line that said women’s sign-ins were to the left and men’s were to the right.  So, in an extremely non-typical move for myself, I did what most everyone else was doing.  I cut in line.  I’ll be darned if I’m going to stand in that scorching heat (92 degrees at that point) for another half hour.  First rule of warriordom?  Each man (woman) for themselves.

To quote another witty Warrior Dash participant’s Facebook page comment:

“I want my medal to say ‘I survived the packet pick up.'” – MK Turner

EXACTLY.

So, after the torture of waiting to get signed up, we then stood in another slightly less long line to check our bag.  All in all, the whole process only took an hour and a half.  No biggie.  AN HOUR AND A FREAKIN HALF. In 92 degrees.  With no water.  Before a race.

So, once the race finally started – at first, it wasn’t too bad.  Well, sorta.  Did I mention it was hot?  Now, mind you, Richard and I are both half-marathoners.  But at the 0.5 mile mark?

Me:  You wanna walk?
Richard:  Oh dear God, I thought you’d never ask.

The obstacles were admittedly pretty fun, I’ll have to say.  Well, maybe fun isn’t the word.  Gratifying?  Maybe that’s it.  You just felt somewhat accomplished after completing them – even if you were on the brink of death from heat exhaustion.

Ok, did I just say the obstacles were fun?  Let me rephrase.  Most of the obstacles were fun.  Until the last one.

The mud pit.

Oh, dear God.  The mud pit.

Now, we were well aware that there would be a mud pit.  That’s part of the draw.  We were ready to get dirty.  No problem.  Bring it on, yo.

But holy llamas – what the hell was that??  That wasn’t mud.  That was brown cement.  Brown cement that almost took my life.  And I’m not exaggerating.  Not in the least.  Even calm-mannered, non-dramatic Richard will tell you the same thing.  It was so incredibly thick that you could barely move.  And you didn’t realize this until you were halfway through it and there was no way out.  It was like quicksand.  We were in all the way up to our chin and couldn’t move at all.  Each step propelled us maybe an inch.  Maybe.  The only redeeming factor is that the people behind you who were also ‘in too deep,’ so to speak, saw what you were going through and knew they would soon be in your place (there was no other way to go but forward), so they were reaching down in the mud and trying to help dislodge your foot from the muck it was sunk down into to help push you forward.  Honestly, I don’t know if I would have gotten out of the pit if it wasn’t for the girl behind me.  And again, that’s no exaggeration.

Eventually, though, after lost shoes, lost shirts, a lost Mason ring (it still makes me sick to my stomach to think of Richard losing that…), and lost energy and drive to ever do any race ever again, we managed to stumble across the finish line.  Together.  30 pounds heavier from the mud, but still upright and breathing.  Barely.  I cringe to think of what that finish line picture looks like.  I just hope I didn’t flip the camera off, because at this point, I cannot be held accountable for anything that happened in the delirium that followed the mud pit escapade.

Oh yeah, and as if that weren’t enough….there was ONE MAN with ONE WATER HOSE to try to clean off about 10,000 muddy people.  I’m sure you can imagine how well that went over.  At one point, the little sprinkles of water I was managing to get hit with only did nothing but serve to get mud in my eyes, which I could not remove because there was not one single solitary piece of my body that wasn’t covered with even more mud.  So, eyes closed, I asked Richard to bend down and I managed to use the only available thing within reach – the one tiny little spot on the top of his head that didn’t have mud on it.  Yes, I rubbed my eyeball in one little inch of mudless hair on my boyfriend’s head.  Look, people, in times of war, you do what you have to do.

Oh dear God, I could go on and on trying to describe the water hose process more, but frankly, I’m sick of talking about this race.

I’m done.

We got our free beer for completing the race (ok, Richard got his two free beers since I don’t drink the nasty stuff); we laid in the sun for over an hour to try to let the mud dry so we could scrape it off before getting back in the car to head home; we stood in another 30-minute line to get our bag back; we put our dumb ol’ hats and dumb ol’ capes on in the scorching heat and snapped a picture to commemorate the misery; and we hauled our exhausted butts home.

So, Angry Chick, wherever you are, we are now members of the same club.  We have survived this near-death experience of a race and will live on to tell our grandchildren about the time we almost died during a 5k.  We are survivors, right?

Yes, my fellow angry friend, we are warriors. 

warriordashpic3

Hooah!

(And, oh heck, who am I kidding?  We’ll probably see ya next year.  I mean, ‘hope springs eternal’ and whatnot, right?  Surely it couldn’t get any worse than this.  Could it?)

Sigh.

***

“All life is an experiment.  The more experiments you make, the better.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

P.S.  This particular Warrior Dash was in Huntersville, NC, on June 1, 2013.  From what I have heard, not all Warrior Dashes are like this disorganized mess.  Just wanted to throw that disclaimer in there on their behalf.

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28

May. ’13

Dress the Part

I noticed something interesting the other day.

This is my daughter, Kelly.

dresspartblog

This picture was taken on the day of her 7th grade graduation.  We curled her hair, she had a little makeup on, wore a cute little dress…she was looking pretty darn spiffy.  Well, later that evening, she and I had to be at theatre rehearsal.  (She was cast as Annie in our local theatre’s upcoming production – if you haven’t already heard me mention that about 3,000 times. I’m just a little bit proud.)  She still had her hair curled, still had the little dress on, etc.  And something interesting happened.  When she stepped on that stage that night, she did the best she had ever done.

Now, granted, my daughter is capable of playing this role.  She is beyond capable.  But with this being her first large role (first speaking role, even), she’s a bit nervous and a little reserved.  Up to this point, she hadn’t found her ‘sea legs,’ so to speak.  But by golly, she was swimming that night.  That girl was spot on.  I saw more spunk and confidence than I had seen thus far.

After rehearsal, I told her what a great job she had done and asked what made her come alive like she did.  She said, “I don’t know.  I had my hair all curly and a dress on…I guess I just felt like Annie.”

“I guess I just felt like Annie.”

Kinda profound when you think about it.  She dressed the part, so she felt like the part.  Simple as that.

So, how does that apply to the rest of us?

Granted, I know we’re not all title characters in a musical.  Most of us are just out here floating about in our regular everyday lives trying to make it through the day without any major catastrophes.  But I think I just learned a pretty good lesson from my 13-year-old daughter.  Whatever I want (need?) to be, I just have to “dress the part.”

Let’s take my running for example.  Now, I’ve heard a lot of runners have mentioned this before so I’m not alone in this thought process.  Sometimes I just don’t feel like running.  I just don’t.  I know I need to, I know I’ll feel good when it’s over, but none of that matters.  I’m just tired and I don’t feel like it.  But as soon as I put on my running clothes and running shoes…suddenly, I’m transformed.  I went from a lazy bum on the couch who didn’t feel like doing anything at all, to an all-out runner who is raring to go.  It’s that simple.  I dress like a runner, so I feel like a runner.

Now, that’s a literal example.  But maybe this can be applied in a not-so-literal way.  Maybe it’s not always an outfit.

Maybe if you want to be a certain thing, you just have to pretend like you are that thing.  You know?

You want to be happy?  Dress the part.  Slap on a smile and be happy.  The first time you do it, you may just feel dumb…smiling for no reason like that like a big dummy.  But the second time you do it, who knows?  You might actually start to feel a little better.  The third?  Maybe even better.  Eventually your smiles will not only fool other people into thinking that you’re actually happy…you might even start to fool yourself.  How about that?

Dress the part.

You want to forgive someone who hurt you?  Act like you have.  Seriously.  Just act like that.  When those negative thoughts pop into your mind, tell yourself that that person is forgiven.  You don’t have to mean it.  Just say it.  Again – at first, it will feel silly.  You’ll feel like a liar.  But the next time?  Maybe it will feel like a little less of a lie.  The next time?  Even less.  Eventually, maybe it just might not be a lie.  Maybe it’ll even become the truth.

Maybe you can put on that little imaginary cloak of forgiveness and finally – finally – just move on.

Dress the part.

Fill in the blank with whatever you need to fill it in with.  You want to be a more positive person?  Act like you’re a positive person.  You want to be a better friend?  Be a better friend.  You want to trust someone?  Trust them.

You want to love someone?  Love them.

Dress the part.

Start with baby steps.  Then bigger steps.  Then keep increasing your stride until you’re moving at full speed.

YOU alone have the power to change everything.

***

“Endeavor to be what you desire to appear.”
– Socrates

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14

May. ’13

Titles

titles

I have a confession to make.

I’m tired of running.

I’m not sure what’s going on here.  Running has been my passion for the past year.  It has gotten me through the tough times, proven to me that I’m tough, led me to a successful half marathon, and so on and so on.  It has been such a defining part of my life for a while.  For a year, I’ve a been a runner.

But here lately, amidst all of the other titles that have been bestowed upon me in my world, “runner” has slipped a little further down the list.

First of all, I’m in the middle of a move.  As someone who has moved about 17.2 million times in her life (possibly a slight exaggeration there), you would think I would be an old pro at it.  But nope.  It still sucks.  Who knew one small house could contain so much JUNK?  Plus, I guess no matter how much you know how much better the end result will be, moving can always be a little sad.  Leaving something behind always is.  So, maybe that’s why I’m tired?  I don’t know.  So, yeah.  Lately, my title of “mover” has bumped out “runner” for first place.

Another title that is inching up to the top is “car owner.”  I’ve been in search of a car for over a month now, ever since my accident.  I’ve been waiting and waiting for the insurance payments to go through so that I could proceed with getting another loan.  Once that finally happened and I was able to get another car, something is wrong with it.  Something minor, hopefully.  And something that the dealership is taking care of.  But in the meantime, I’m still driving a borrowed vehicle and remaining a burden while I wait.  So, yes… the frustrated “car owner” title has bumped itself to the top of the list too.

And, of course, there’s “Mom.”  The mom title is always at the top of the list, but for these past couple of weeks, it has been taking precedence.  Having to get my little “Annie” to all of her play rehearsals is taking up quite a bit of time. (In addition to dance rehearsals and an all-day dance recital over the weekend to boot.)  I wouldn’t trade it for the world, mind you.  I’m extremely proud and honored to be the Mom of such a talented, active little go-getter.  But it sure can be tiring.  So, scootch on over, “runner,” “mom” needs some space.

“Writer.”  Yep, that one is always there.  While running is therapeutic for me, writing is too.  And has been for a little longer than running has – pretty much all of my life, actually.  When the stress gets overwhelming, running my fingers across the keyboard seems to relieve it just a tad.  And it has been a little easier to find time to do that lately, than to find the time to run.  So, “writer” bumps “runner” down a few notches as well.

Oh, how I could go on and on.  So many titles are there fighting their way for first position.  “Girlfriend;” “Daughter;” “Granddaughter;” “Friend;” “Words with Friends player” (Hey – you have your priorities, I have mine); “Employee;” “Bill payer;” “Actor;” etc. etc. etc.  Sometimes, I guess it’s ok to understand that “runner” is still there…it’s just a little lost in the chaos.

So, maybe I’m just tired.  And…maybe with all of the other stresses in my life, I might be just a tad bit irritable.  Maybe.  Oh, ok, I admit it.  I’m irritable.  And maybe – just maybe – I’m directing that irritation towards running and allowing it to slip down the list.  I don’t know why I’m doing that.  It’s not running’s fault.  But I don’t really have to have a reason to be mad at it, do I?  Ask my boyfriend Richard – “reasons” aren’t necessary when it comes to me being irritable.  Maybe I just wanna be.  *Arms crossed* *Pouty face*

*Sigh*

But, alas, just like other temporary irritations in my life – they’re just that.  Temporary.  I’ve been mad at Richard before, and we made it through.  I’ve been mad at my kids before, and the feeling passed.  I’ve been mad at my parents, at my siblings, at my friends.  And yet, it always – always – works itself out.  Why?  Because love is stronger than any passing storm.  Just like the love that I have for the people in my world, the love that I have for running will also endure.  It will return. When the dust settles and the chaos clears, running will still be there waiting for me.  For underneath it all, my title still stands.  Untarnished.

I am a runner.

And I’ll be back.

***

“A woman under stress is not immediately concerned with finding solutions to her problems, but rather seeks relief by expressing herself and being understood.”
– John Gray

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10

May. ’13

The Bear

hills

So, in all my hustle and bustle with getting ready for this half marathon that I just ran [If you’re new to my blog, here is the link to that one: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/05/04/i-did-it/], I kinda sorta forgot about something.  I’m signed up for another race in July.

The Bear.

*Sigh*

bearprofile2

Holy crap.  Do you SEE this thing?  If you’re local, you probably know all about it.  If you’re not – well look at that picture.  A 1,541 elevation climb in 5 miles up Grandfather Mountain in Linville, North Carolina. They limit the run to 800 runners and slots usually fill up within the first two or three days after sign-ups open.

Oh. Dear. God.  What the heck was I thinking???

Oh yeah, now I remember.

I signed up for this race, and the half marathon, during the time that Richard and I were split up.  I was so incredibly determined to prove to myself that I was tough.  On the outside and on the inside.  I was going to devote my life (and overactive mind) to training for these races and show the world – and me – what I was made of.

Well, that was four months ago.  Richard and I found our way back to each other (yay!) and life is pretty awesome.  So, I have nothing to prove now, right?  No need to climb a dumb ol’ mountain.  It’s allll good.

Except.  Well.  I think I still need to do it.

Turns out, proving to myself that I’m strong didn’t really have anything to do with that breakup.  Actually, I think I have been needing to do this for a very long time.  Sometimes something comes along in your life … whether it be a breakup, a financial crisis, a family problem, whatever … and you suddenly start to see things like you haven’t seen them before.  Your slumbering senses are awakened.  You realize something needs to change.  And once you make that realization, going backwards is not an option.  It’s just not.

I’ve never seen myself as strong before.  I’ve had other people tell me I was.  I can look back on things that I’ve made it through (cancer, divorce, etc.) and realize that I must have been at least somewhat strong to get through it all.  But I didn’t feel strong.  Hearing others say it just didn’t do anything.  I needed to hear me say it.  And I just couldn’t.

And then I discovered running.

I discovered something that gives me strength.  Something that I can do to continually prove to myself that I can do so much more than I realized I was capable of.  With each additional mile and each additional intensity level, I amaze myself with what my body can do.  I just had to train my mind to tell my body it was possible.

And now it’s time to do that again.

I’m sure I won’t be the fastest person up that mountain.  Just like I wasn’t the fastest person to finish that half marathon.  But I’ll tell you what – I sure did run that half marathon faster than I’ve ever run one before.  And I sure will run those 5 steep miles in Linville faster than I ever have run them before too.  That’s a guarantee.

I can do this.  I will do this.  I will climb this mountain in July just like I’ve climbed all of the metaphorical mountains that came before it.  Only this time, I’ll be aware of my strength.  And I will be proud.

Then?  Then, I will file this memory away with all of the others, so that I can recall it the next time I see a mountain in my life that I feel like I won’t be able to climb.  This will remind me that I can.  And I will.

Hmmm.  Maybe that’s what this running thing is about after all.

***

“It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.”
– Edmund Hillary

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07

May. ’13

Decisions

“A lot of people don’t want to make their own decisions.  They’re too scared.  It’s much easier to be told what to do.”
– Marilyn Manson

See that quote?  Yeah, Mr. Manson was talking about me.

Oh my gosh, I so hate making decisions.  I suck at them.  Anything from where we’re going out to eat to what kind of car I’m going to buy to what pair of shoes I’m going to wear for the day – I hate them all.  I want someone to walk around my life with me and tell me what to do.  I want them to point it all out for me.  Lead the way.  Basically, I just don’t want the responsibility for determining an outcome.  If the wrong choice was made and there were bad consequences, I want that to be someone else’s fault, not mine.

But apparently, this whole ‘grown-up’ crap doesn’t allow for that.  I’m stuck.  I have to make decisions whether I like it or not.

Wouldn’t it be nice if there were signs like this along the way?

wrongway

Now, see?  If I knew I had road signs in my life to direct the course, I’d be in good shape.  I’d have a lot less to stress over, I know that.  Wrong decision?  No biggie!  Here’s you a little sign telling you to turn around and re-do it.  Easy peasy.

Don’t I wish.

But I guess what I need to do is realize that while, yes, there may be a bad outcome if the wrong decision was made, there could also be a pretty awesome outcome if the right decision was made.  You know?

I guess that’s maybe what it all comes down to.  A fear of making decisions is really just a lack of confidence in yourself.  I guess I never really thought of it that way.

Hmmm.  I should probably stop that.

After all, I’ve made some pretty great decisions in my life at times.  I can think of two wonderful decisions right off the bat.  Those little decisions have bright red hair and make me laugh every single day.  I think I did an excellent job there.  What else?  Well, I made the decision to continue with school when I wanted to quit (being 19, pregnant, and in college was a tough row to hoe, let me tell ya).  I decided to continue taking various classes here and there after graduating which led me to the legal field.  I made the decision to end a marriage where I wasn’t fully allowed to be myself.  I made the decision to pursue my passion in theatre.  I made the decision to start running.

I made the decision to start this blog.

You know, now that I think of it, maybe I’m not such a bad decision maker after all.  I think I’m going to start remembering that.  Starting today, I’m just going to go for it.  When it’s time to make a decision, I’m going to just trust my instincts and jump.  What’s the worst that could happen?  You live, you learn.  You may fall sometimes, sure.  But there are also going to be times that you fly.

And I don’t know about you, but I think I’d rather fly with a few tough landings here and there, than to never leave the ground at all.

***

“It doesn’t matter which side of the fence you get off on sometimes.  What matters most is getting off.  You cannot make progress without making decisions.”
-Jim Rohn

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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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