Tag Archives: strength

I Am Woman

“A woman is like a tea bag – you never know how strong she is until she gets in hot water.”
– Eleanor Roosevelt

I’m a woman. Through and through.

And here’s how I know.

I think I may have broken a bone in my hand. *sigh* (Ok, no, that’s not why I know I’m a woman. Men break their hands all the time. Just be patient…I’m getting to the point.) So, why do I think my hand is broken?  Well, I tripped and fell playing basketball in flip-flops. (Ok, that’s closer to being how I know I’m a woman, but that’s still not the point.)  In a last-minute, mindless motion, I put my hand out to break my fall.  A lot of weight fell on my tiny little wrist (my wrist is the only thing that’s tiny, mind you) and it didn’t feel too great, to put it mildly.

Now, this flip-flop basketball incident happened over two weeks ago, and I still haven’t been to the doctor. Why not? Well, a couple of reasons. One, money. (Money is the underlying factor to just about everything these days…can I get an Amen?)

But mostly, the real reason is just that I figured I had just bruised something somewhere and it would get better with time.

Well, it hasn’t.

In fact, it’s getting worse. And being the Google Doctor that I am, it looks like I may have done a little more damage than I originally had thought.  So, today, I’m off to the doctor to find out.

And here’s the thing.  I really DON’T want to have a broken hand.  Having a broken hand would suck. I do so much crap with my hand. For one thing, I’m typing this blog right now. (It’s actually a little painful to type, but I’m willing to suffer for you guys. That’s just the kind of gal I am…) But seriously, I do an awful lot of typing – both with my extracurricular writing, and with my business writing. I’m a legal assistant. I spend all day typing on the computer.  I kinda need my hand.

meselfBut even more important than that?  Helllllo…how am I going to straighten my hair?  No kidding, I spent extra time straightening my hair this morning and making sure it looked decent (no matter how much it hurt to grip the straightener) because I had a feeling that today might be my last cast-less day for a while. How shallow am I, people?  (But hey, doesn’t my hair look great?…)

And you know what else I did last night on what may be my last cast-less 24 hours?  I cleaned the bathroom.  Yep.  I looked down at the floor and at the toothpaste-speckled mirror and decided that it would be pretty dang hard to scrub anything with a cast on my hand.  So, I got to work. Yep, it hurt, but at least it got done.  I also knocked out a few loads of laundry while I was at it.

Now, see why I know I’m a woman? Pardon my French here, but we women? Oh, we’re badasses. I’m here to tell ya. We know our worth, we know our value, and we know that when it’s time for crap to get done, we’re the ones to do it. Now, I’m not trying to down men or anything. And not trying to be stereotypical (there are always exceptions to every rule), but isn’t that a pretty cool thing about us chicks? We’re planners. We take charge. We see to it that things get done, no matter the sacrifice.

I think that’s kinda cool myself.

So, here’s to the women out there. Celebrate your awesomeness.  Right now – do it.  Pat yourself on the back (Lord knows no one else is going to do it), and remind yourself that you are a rock star. Get it, girl!

(I’d high-five all of you if I could, but I guess that would hurt….)

Ok.  Time to go find out if Dr. Google is right.  (This is one of those rare few times that I’d be happy to be wrong about something.) So…my hand and I are off to the doctor.  I’ll keep ya posted.

(P.S. Anyone want to volunteer to come straighten my hair for six weeks if my hand is broken?…)


“Strong women need not declare they can carry all the burdens in life. They just quietly do it and survive with a smile.”
– Princess Maleiha Bajunaid Candao


Ecclesiastes 3:1-8


  There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens

   a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,

    a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,

    a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,

    a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

    a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,

    a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,

    a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.


“…Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”
Psalm 30:5

10 Miles….

“Believe that you can run farther or faster. Believe that you’re young enough, old enough, strong enough, and so on to accomplish everything you want to do. Don’t let worn-out beliefs stop you from moving beyond yourself.”
– John Bingham

Ok. Today is the day that I’m supposed to run 10 miles.

What the crap? TEN miles??

I’m not feeling extremely positive about this right at the moment. After all, I struggled with just 3 yesterday. It’s amazing how different some running days are from others. Those runs fall into that whole “momma said there’d be days like this” category, I suppose. So, after having such a crappy running day yesterday, my mind is screaming at me that I’m just not ready for this 10-miler and maybe I should skip it. Maybe I should just wait and do a few more short runs and try the longer run later. Maybe it’s not time for me to step it up just yet and I should hold back a little. Maybe this. Maybe that. Excuse. Excuse. Excuse.

But then I remember something.

I’m not a quitter.

I’m just not.  In other non-running areas of my life, I’ve always been very determined to see things through.  My mom has always told me that determination is one of my finest qualities.  (Although, I’m certain it’s also been the culprit of some of my downfalls at times…but we’re not talking about that right now…)  Point is, if I can be determined in other areas of my life, I can be determined in this one too.

I can do this.  I can do this.  I can do this.

Every increase in mileage in my training plan has caused this same fear in me.  I remember when I did 5 miles for the first time.  All I could think of was how I barely made it to 5, now how was I going to do 6?  Then I did 6 miles, and had the same thought about 7. And so on. And every time, I stepped up to the challenge. Every time. Today will be no different.


Today, after a long, tedious workday, I am going to put my running shoes on, and I’m heading out the door.  I’m going to get my playlist ready to play the strongest, most powerful running music I can find, I’m going to bring along my nifty little water bottle that straps to my hand, I’m going to clear my mind of any of life’s annoyances that might be bothering me, and I’m going to run 10 miles.  That’s just all there is to it.

Oh, and besides, I have a fail-proof plan.  I know I can run 5 miles.  There’s no question about that.  So, I’m just going to run 5 miles away from my car.  Then I have no choice but to come 5 miles back or I can’t go home.  See?  I’m a genius.

Ok, people.  Today is the day I become a double-digit runner.  Let’s do this.