Sad, Serious, and a Side of Snarky

And here I am again… the eve of turning another year older.

I’m still not at the weight I want to be. I’m still not in the shape I want to be. I’m still not where I “should be” mentally or spiritually. I’m still a hot mess wife, mother, daughter, friend, neighbor.

Another wasted 365 days of fighting with myself over my own worth, and my own happiness, and my own inner validation. Only this year I got to also add in surviving a worldwide pandemic on top of it all.

My whole life I’ve fought the inner demons of never enough, and I don’t know why. I don’t know what drives me to always feel the failure, always feel I’ve fallen short, always feel not quite there yet, no matter how much I’ve done, accomplished, or how far I’ve come.

I’m currently feeling not much more than a collection of snarky coffee mugs and virtual race medals, earned running all by myself in the dark corner of my basement. And I’m currently suffering from a back injury that is keeping me from even “really” running (not that I was actually even a "real runner" to begin with). I can walk and I can elliptical, and that simply is what is it right now, and perhaps will be forever, as my mind continues to whisper quietly to me. (Which is also heavily laced with a thick layer of guilt because I actually CAN walk and CAN do life because I'm not actually sick or in need of anything so by golly miss molly stop feeling sorry for yourself girlfriend.)

I find myself just in this simmering stage of mad, upset, frustration, disappointment… Every year… every damn year it’s the same thing. The same date on the calendar holding all the same hopes for all the same goals and all the validations for all the same things. The same memories of that little heartbeat that was there six years ago, but only for seventeen more days.

And then here it is again, the night before… and through one side of me I look over the year and know I’ve yet again fallen short. Yet again not been strong enough to get myself “there” (where ever in the hell “there” even is), and the other side of me is just holding hands tied tight with these heavy chains, face dirty with tears and grime and sweat and blood asking… pleading with myself asking why… why can’t I just be enough right where I am, exactly who I already am?!?

Why the battle, why the fight? Why?!? Why do I even seem to care so much when no one else really does (another lie whispering inside that mind of mine). It’s my life, my shadows, my demons, my skeletons in the closet… no one else’s. But this world isn’t about me, it surely doesn’t revolve around me, my issues aren’t even a blip on the radar of all reality – so, why do I put so much stock inside my own self to be the be all end all?

It’s a question that is both utter ridiculous and utterly crippling, and one that leaves me sitting right here, year after year after year.

( but have no fear.... this too shall pass... and pass and pass - and we'll talk again in another year from now and maybe ... just maybe ... by gosh by golly I'll have finally written myself a new narrative. #ornot #wink )

Previous Blog post  { Unexpected Blessings... Stay Strong } HERE

Next Blog post { Road to 46 Grit Challenge } HERE

Unexpected Blessings - Stay Strong

New Years Eve 2020 I was in bed and probably asleep by 8:45pm. #partyanimal

I stayed home, skipping the annual New Years Eve party with our friends.  I skipped because I have a really big race scheduled for this week and I did not want to risk being exposed (yes, I am one of #thosepeople), and I skipped because I had a really big race scheduled for bright and early New Year's Day.

My 3rd Annual 1st Run of the Year race through Virtual Pace Series.

I've been diligently training for a half and full marathon coming up, so instead of just another long training run this week, I signed up for this race with the goal distance of 20.21 miles.

Happy New Year 2021 girls and boys!

I trained, I watched my nutrition and water intake super close, I made sure I got enough sleep. I fueled well before and during the race... and it went really well.  Like surprisingly really well.  The kind of "really well" that later in the day makes you wonder if you somehow messed up the math and didn't go the right distance or somehow didn't do something "correct."

But it's also the kind of "really well" that just might come from having well... just having trained really well.

Does this give me a false sense of hope going into my big race this week... #suredoes

The next morning I gave myself a full rest day #whoopwhoop and got up and nestled in with my coffee, blanket, devotions, and my book in front of the fireplace, while the hubs headed to the lakes for some more ice fishing for the second day in a row.

I got a text later from him asking how I was feeling.  Oh... like I got run over by a freight train, you know the typical post race #lawdhavemercy #whathaveIdone.

But it made me reflect a little... I had registered for this race as soon as it had opened - it was the 3rd year in a row I'd done this race and had been a little fearful covid would have messed this one up as well, but it opened, I registered, the medal arrived a few weeks ago, it went immediately into the race drawer, and it wasn't until New Years Eve that I dug it all out and got it all ready. (Race day outfits are just as important as race day itself peeps!)

That night I realized that I did not have a Gatorade Recovery Bar (#whatthewhatgirlfriend) in the race drawer and I had never even thought about finding a "perfect" mug to go with this race (#hotmessexpresstimeofyear).  Yes, I have some strange inner personal "rules" about weird stuff - and two of them are is that I only allow myself to indulge in a Gatorade Recovery bar and treat myself to a new mug after I have "earned" it by training and completely a half marathon (or greater) distance race.

 So, I ran it, didn't have a recovery bar afterward, and drank coffee from my Tired As A Mother Runner mug (which I had "earned" after my 2019 birthday half marathon - just in case you were curious. lol)

I even texted something back in my reply to the hubs stating he should be happy to know I didn't even get myself a new mug after this race.  He's kinda ok with this "mug thing" but kinda not.  #touchysubject #wellleaveitatthat 

A little while later I put the dog out and noticed there was a box that had been delivered on the front step. I gave it a sideways glance and remembered I had bid on (and won) some books from Poshmark last week, and left the box out there.

I closed the door when she came back in and started to clean up and put away the Christmas decorations. 

I stopped to touch the little pink Faith bear we have out on a shelf. I carefully put the crystal snowflake ornament with her name on it that we had gotten that year from the funeral home back in it's box. I touched the glittery pink shoes that had made me completely fall apart a few weeks earlier at the local dollar store.  They were that one random thing, that unexpected thing, that sends the searing pain of loss deep inside causing the tears to publicly spill as you stand there alone in the aisle wishing with an ache so deep and so strong, that there were really little feet and toes that would slide into these precious little adorable shoes.  Yes, I actually let myself buy them, for whatever reason, and put them on the shelf, right next to the beautiful wooden wings ornament sent to me from a dear friend... I decided to leave it all out this year... to see daily, to remember daily.

A little later I put the dog out again (don't even ask, she has bladder issues and is a yorkie with a bladder the size of a pea) and decided I should probably take the box in and attempt to "hide" the books since I totally don't "need" new books and shouldn't have even gotten them because #dugh - library... free and post holiday bank account... empty.

I put the box on the table and thought it didn't really feel like books, but oh well.  I tore it open and...

It was most definitely not the books I had ordered from Poshmark.  No, this box did not contain books.  This box did not contain anything that I had ordered.  This box was a gift, a blessing... and a "more than words can express" type gift and blessing at that.

I slowly moved away the crumpled newspaper and found a lantern with a candle inside and the words "Faith - Hope - Love" on it, topped with a bow green bow and butterfly.  I then pulled out a glittery Christmas ornament, a card, two bracelets, and ... the most beautiful Stay Strong coffee mug.

I stood there with tears falling down my face, some rouge glitter from the ornament still on my hands, looking at the lamp that had both our babies names on it, holding this ice cold mug with the most perfect message on it... and I knew I hadn't just randomly forgotten to look for a mug for that 20.21 mile race I had just completed.

God already had it all taken care of, via this amazing and completely unexpected blessing from a couple that had also been given the unexpected journey of child loss this summer. 

They said hello and goodbye to their little Hope Marie this summer, born with ancephialie.  I had been given the gift of getting to walk beside them during part of that journey. It had been incredibly hard, but it had also been exactly what I knew our #journeytofaith had been for... to be able to touch, and see, and feel the incredible pain and loss involved in having to place your precious little baby into the arms of Jesus far sooner than you ever believe you should have had to.

So, I now have the perfect mug to go with my 1st Run of 2021 race.

Stay Strong.  Stay strong after surviving 2020.  Stay strong entering 2021. Stay strong when all you want to do is give up, walk away, quit, stop, DNF (Did Not Finish in racing terminology).

Stay strong. (And I mustn't forget to mention there are blue butterflies on the back side of the mug. #evenmoreperfect.)

I couldn't have picked out a more perfect saying and meaning had I gone looking for it by myself.

And to the mom, dad and family of little Hope Marie... thank you.  I know you have no idea the perfection of the the timing and the specific gifts you sent, but know it was exactly what I was needing, exactly when I was needing it to help me Stay Strong.

 

Previous Blog Post { Dream BIG Princess Challenge } HERE

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Dream BIG Princess Challenge

Well peeps...  It's race week over here!

I admit, I am one that very rarely will say anything beforehand whenever I do these kinds of "crazy things" as my hubs tends to call them.  But I decided today to just be big, and brave, and say it out loud.

One of my big bucket list dreams is ... to do a live RunDisney weekend.  There's the StarWars Race Weekend, the Disney Princess Race Weekend, and the Disney Marathon Weekend.  Last year, I decided I knew I could never afford to register and travel and do the "real" weekend at Disney - but I could live vicariously through other runners who were, and I could train and do my own little virtual version... in my basement.

And I did.  And it was super hard, but fun... although no great selfies with any Disney characters or any of the true charm and excitement from being live and in person... but it was my #disneyonadime option.

And I finished that full marathon... 26.2 miles, in my basement, alone, without actually moving more than about 5 feet the entire way... and I swore I never needed to do that again.  Until I decided to do it again.  #ugh

All races everywhere basically were canceled, or went virtual, in 2020.  Including - all the big RunDisney weekends, which then started extending into 2021.  I got caught up in it all and admit, I almost clicked the register button for the 2021 virtual RunDisney Marathon weekend.  And then I remembered that the medals never arrived last year for my RunDisney Virtual Summer Shorts (5k's in June, July, Aug) that I signed up for - until well after summer.  And well, I am not going to run a race, on the scheduled race weekend, without having the medal(s).  So I backed up... deleted my credit card number... and closed the tab.

But my mind had begun to turn.

Last year, I had ended up using the not-mailed-in-time RunDisney Virtual Shorts metals for my own virtual Marathon Weekend.  I used my late-to-arrive summer metals (can you tell I'm NOT at all bitter about that am I? lol) in January, and trained and ran the same distances at the same times as they were running live in person in the parks. 

So I went online to try find the 2020 RunDisney Virtual Short medals again.

Except registration was already closed for that race.  But I was getting some hits for some of the medals that were now for sale, used on eBay and Poshmark.  The mind continued to turn.

And in the end... after hours and hours and hours (did I mention HOURS of time I spent on all of this #lovineveryminuteofit) here is what I came up with for me, myself, and I....

Dream Big Princess Challenge.  Jan 7-8-9-10, 2021.  Progressive 5k / 10k / Half Marathon / Full Marathon distances (same days and distances as the "official" RunDisney Virtual 2021 Marathon Weekend)  BUT ... I will be crossing the finish lines to medals, real medals, official Disney medals...

Only the medals are all used and from the 2018 RunDisney Princess Marathon weekend race.  Yup some beautiful soul out there ran those races and then plopped all their medals for sale on eBay - and I got them for a steal of a deal (well, in comparison to what it was going to cost me to register for the 2021 Virtual race).

But I didn't stop with the medals.

I spent more hours and hours searching for just the perfect race day outfits to go with each medal.  Ebay, amazon, poshmark, etsy ... I scoured them all for all my options and compared prices with ultimate favorites, made bids, decided what I would settle for prices (I have a personal $5 "limit" on most of my used online shopping/bidding) I was willing to spend and got completely caught up in the thrill of the hunt and creative building of this entire thing.

I also didn't stop with just the medals and race day outfits.

I spent more hours searching for the perfect race day mug to go with this whole challenge.  Yup, I'm one of those odd people that has started treating myself to a new coffee mug each time I train and finish for a large scale race (typically 13.1 miles or greater distance races, because I carry all these stupid self-imposed rules on myself).

So back to Ebay, amazon, poshmark, etsy again... and in the end, I found an almost perfect mug... but not quite... but thank you all things etsy and I was able to custom order the exact mug design I decided to go with, along with the exact verbiage of the race name I also decided to go with.

 And then I designed and printed some custom race bibs to match it all.

And thus we have my "unofficial" virtual RunDisney Dream BIG Princess Marathon Weekend Challenge. Yea, a lot of creative, crazy, thrifty stuff I know... but in the end, it's exactly what I wanted, all the way around.

I trained and am planning to do the same weekend and distances again, the perfect outfits, the perfect mug, the perfect medals, the perfect name.

And I can't help but smile as I think about why I even started running years ago... how I found myself so incredibly lost after the loss of our little #faithmaryjo that I didn't know if I'd ever find my way back up to the light.  Granted, I'm still staggering forward towards the light of healing, but I have pushed, grown, fought, pulled, drug myself through this super incredibly hard #journeytofaith and found running and miles and training to be something so much more than I ever imagined.  I do still consider myself a #runningnonrunner because I don't consider myself any kind of athlete... but I do know, deep inside, I really maybe am a little bit of a "real" runner deep within.

What can I say, I find excitement in planning to run #twentysixpointtwomiles for fun... in my basement... alone... on a treadmill (assuming that makes me "real"ish anyway).

So, as I officially enter another "race week," I dedicate all of this one to my own little princess in heaven, and say one huge thank you to her for giving me the inner grit to Dream BIG Princess, to allow myself to believe I can do hard things, and to push myself harder and deeper than I ever dreamed I would be able to go before that day I had to say hello and goodbye to her all at the same time.

I'm sad that the only princess stuff right now in our house are these medals, shirts, and race bibs... but I will tackle this challenge with hope and pride, taking the pink and princess magic any way I can take it right now, this side of heaven.

And Lord willing, all the mile magic and mercies will be sprinkling it's glitter down on me as I attempt this challenge this week.

Previous blog post { Where Am I Now - Covid Month Nine } HERE

Next blog post { Dream BIG Princess } HERE

Where Am I Now … Covid Month Nine

Yup, I’ve been MIA on here for a while… and after a while it gets a little tricky how to just jump back in. So, here we go. I’ve decided to try posting a few more things in 2021 and I’m going to simply start with a basic update, and I will try keep it all as short as possible. Cuz lord knows 2020 was anything but “as short as possible…”

If I were to have done a Christmas Letter this year, perhaps it would have been something like this…

Nine months ago the world as we knew it stopped. Nine months ago all the big, bad, scary, unknowns were just starting to become, well … known. Everyone was sent home and told to just stay there. Some did, some did not. Some could, some could not. There was essential workers, and non-essential workers, online learning and working from home. There were masks, and fear, and an unbelievable amount of media coverage.

I posted a few things along the way, but mostly kept myself quiet. Basically, full on survival mode. You can pop back to the homepage and catch up if you’ve missed them.

I personally spent most of the last nine months a hot mess. I struggled and wrestled through so many inner demons, so many obstacles and unknowns, so much really hard stuff (at least I sure thought it was hard, I don’t care what everyone else thinks). I know the entire world basically went through the same thing. Some people were very vocal, some people weren’t. Some people continued to be very social as well, some people weren’t. I chose the covid camp side of trying to remain silent while trying to remain safe and quarantined in my house. My choices, my thoughts, my beliefs (and I tried to just keep them to myself and not judge or push them onto anyone else). Most of what I chose to believe did not align with most around me, which added more stress and tension inside and all around me.

Since day one I chose to still get up at the same time I always did. To work out, get ready, and get fully work-ready dressed (with earring, accessories, shoes and the whole shebang). I am still continuing this to this day. Although, I am grateful to also still be allowed to work from home at this current time.

In May, Minnesota borders opened, and the campground opened, and I went from a three month isolation at my house, to the most bizarre case of entering a time zone at the campground as if nothing had happened, or was happening in the world around us. No social distancing, no masks… and I admit, it made for a really hard summer for me this summer. But, we did leave the state and went to the campground nearly every weekend this summer.

Baseball in Iowa started up about the same time, and after three months of isolation for the boy, we sent him off to baseball practice, and dugouts, and the spitting of illegal sunflower seeds (again, as if nothing had happened or was happening in the world around us). Again, this was also hard for me.

I continued my miles and my training, even though ever single race I was signed up for got canceled. Some went virtual, some just canceled. I basically stopped doing any miles outside, except on the weekends at the campground (I honestly just stopped feeling safe outside). So my treadmill, elliptical, and bike are getting all the love right now (and I do mean ALL the love, as I’m training for a full marathon race next week). #runlikethewindbullseye. All my training has brought me through finally agreeing to watch all the Star Wars, Mandalorian, and Marvel movies my son had been asking me to watch for years now. (and who knew – I loved them all!) #allthebabyyoda  This summer I signed up for several virtual Spartan race opportunities that I was not expecting to try, and ended up meeting and exceeding my 2021 intentionally logged miles goal for the year. My mileage and training ended strong… my weight however did not end where I was wanting it to be (nope, no grand covid transformation before and after posting over here for me. I lived… that’s all I can boast about.) Pandemics and isolation at home make a tough go for those who tend to emotionally eat.

Right as the pandemic was ramping up… my oldest son got back together with the beautiful girl he had never stopped loving… and it was so fun to see them bloom together again. She graduated from college, passed her RN test, and got her first full time job. AND this fall there was much excitement as he asked “Will you…” and she said “I will…” Then they bought an acreage together and have been busy starting to remodel it all for his salvage business and for their house together. So, I am officially the mother-of-the-groom and so in love with my future daughter-in-law. I’ve been able to be a part of pretty much everything and it’s been just so fun! We are eagerly looking forward to June 4, 2021. #toinfinityandbeyond

Brian and Isaiah spent months working on their passports… only to have their big trip to Canada canceled. They currently have a 2021 rescheduled trip date set, and we can only cross our fingers and pray it will come to be.

Also at the beginning of the pandemic, Brian decided he needed to change a few things with his carpentry business, and as I sat at home on furlough, he took the big scary steps to go out on his own - and is now sole owner of Crane Custom Carpentry. Scary steps to take in a scary time. He has been working nearly exclusively with Century Cabinetry and has been loving it. Our fingers also remain crossed with hope and anticipation for him as we enter 2021.

Isaiah, as with the rest of the kiddos, struggled learning from home, but we hung on strong and kept going. He built cardboard Titanics, and puzzles, and endless hours of rubix cubes. We read and watched movies and just stayed close. He also felt the crazy shift of life between home and the campground, but loved to be able to just run free with friends and just be outside and all over each weekend.

We decided at very last minute to actually go on a little vacation to the Wisconsin Dells in July. We got a great deal on accommodations, and the only park we went to was at 10% capacity. So, we rode a whole lotta go carts and roller coasters, floated down some water slides and wave pools… and literally absorbed gallons of hand sanitizer. It was definitely a once and done vacation spot for us, but we had fun (and none of us got covid.)

In the fall I transitioned out of furlough (yup, I’m still an art admin in the art dept at Staples Promotional Products) and Isaiah went back to school full time with all in-person learning… and somehow we are still there, despite all the crazy covid going on. There’s been some social distanced band concerts and wrestling tournaments with Isaiah… crazy crazy stuff. Some kids and parents follow the rules and requests being asked, some not… #thingsthatmakeyougohmmm

This fall I also made the decision to brave a trip with my parents to the Black Hills, to meet up with my brother who flew in from South Carolina (where he moved this summer) so we could fulfill the promise we made our dad a few years earlier as we stood on the top of Harney Peak together. We made a promise that for his 70th Birthday we would celebrate and make that same trek together again. The trip was changed and canceled multiple times due to covid and my brother and family moving… but at the last minute we decided to just make it happen and the original #oldenkamppartyoffour enjoyed an insane activity (and hand sanitizer) filled weekend together at the Black Hills, including a hike back to the top and back of Harney Peak.

In January we lost our dear Lily Lou and Isaiah has struggled all year with this loss. He still sleeps with her dog collar… but it’s been a hard year for him as well as the rest of us, and while he desperately wants another dog, we just haven’t been able to afford it. Perhaps some day God will grant us that wish of having two dogs again, but for now Miss Piper Joy remains spoiled rotten and attached (literally) at the hip to me. The covid isolation served her well as she was home with me 24/7 for the last nine months. I think of all of us, she benefited the most from this and will probably be the most devastated if we ever go back to a time when I’m not working from home full time anymore. Wink.

Brian entered his birthday and the holidays very sick and down for nearly a month as he dealt with gallbladder issues and eventually recovery from surgery.

So in a nutshell… we’re all still alive (well, minus Lily) and healthy here. None of us have had covid yet, and Lord willing we will continue to be able to stay healthy. It’s been a rocky, bumpy, rollercoaster of a ride (figuratively and literally lol) for all of us… but we are still here and still moving forward as best as each of us can right now.

2020 gave us lots of memories and lots of things to both mourn, and fear, and be grateful for. We have now turned the page to 2021. I know it will not magically change anything by just changing the zero to a one at the end of the year when a magically clock struck midnight, but it does mean time has continued to tick, and it’s time to just continue forward, holding tight the hands of hope and grace. 

 Next blog post ... { Dream BIG Princess } HERE

{ Previous blog post... One Snapshot In Time  HERE }

One Snapshot in Time

Once upon a time, there was this girl in this photo. It was summer 2018, long before covid, and I had just crossed the finish line of the Zumbrota Half Marathon, at an official time of 2:02:00.

This morning as I held this stack of photos in my hands, slowly thumbing through them, and as I came across this one in particular, it was like I had been kicked in the gut. Oh Lord how I remember that exact moment. The runners high of finishing a half marathon, a bucket list marathon none-the-less, the adrenaline, the endorphins, the exact moment as caught in that split second of time.

Oh gosh I was so… happy, so… healthy, so… in shape, so… skinny (soooo skinny!)… And as I sat here soaking that reality and memory all in, all I could think was, “Wow, I am not that girl anymore.” My heart hurt and my self disappointment overtook me.  I had worked so hard to get myself to that spot.  I'm still working hard, but obviously not hard enough, because that is not where I am at anymore.

Two and a half years ago … a lifetime ago, and a mere blink in time ago.

I almost put the photos back away, I almost backed out of my decision to finish up scrapbooking the long lost, and long forgotten, summer of 2018 photos that I had recently come across while finally finding a small motivation to open my scrapbook room door and even enter it. It’s been a long hard season for me over here, and while I had once carried a great love and desire to scrapbook, that has not been the case for the past year.

I didn’t put the photos back, I didn’t quit and walk away. I decided to just continue on and get them done. The photos are already printed and just sitting there. The scrapbook already 2/3 of the way done. Why not. 

I spread out the photos, deciding which ones to start with. I picked some paper, did some trimming and arranging, all the while just looking at the smile and sparkle in my eyes, and the thin lean legs crossing that finish line.

At first I was frustrated and upset at myself. Why, why did you have to go let all that perfection slip away yet again? Why can’t you ever just maintain your happiness and weight longer than one to two years max? Oh what I wouldn’t give to get myself back to that moment again…

I took a break and flipped through some of the pages of previous 2018 weekends at the lake that I’d scrapbooked over two years ago, that I'd just left abandoned in a large stack on a chair. The more pages I continued to flip through, the more memories started coming back.

You know, I wasn’t so happy that summer. No, I wasn’t happy at all. The hubs and I were not in a great place during that season. I remember sitting with my soon-to-be-daughter-in-law at a cement table overlooking the lake, crying as she held me and talked to me, begging me to see my worth and find my happiness.

No, I wasn’t really truly happy back in June 2018.

I picked up the stack of photos and kept looking. Oh Lord have mercy, how could I have forgotten what a horrible trip that had actually been?!? I had a new job and didn’t have any time off, so we arrived late the night before the race. And the hotel… where to even begin. The main lobby reeked of what I recall as a cat litter type smell, perhaps actually more an issue of Ethnic cooking smells deeply saturated into every carpet, curtain and piece of furniture. No elevator to the 2nd story, all the luggage up the narrow stairwell. Our room… the air conditioner was broken (and it was nearing triple digits outside) the toilet seat was broken, there was no batteries in the tv remote, the tv was not hooked up to cable or dish or whatever, there was no telephone in the room… and by the time we checked out I had a very strong suspicion I had bedbug bites on my left arm.

No, this was not an ideal little getaway back in 2018.

A few more photos flipped, and I remember waking up to rain. No, not rain, thunderstorms with down-pouring rain, thunder, and lightening. We would sit in our car for over an hour while they tried to decide what to do. We would gather inside the covered bridge and wait some more. They finally decided to just let us go (which they should not have with all that lightening. I will never forget that lighting bolt and immediate crack of thunder that hunched me over with my hands over my head and leaving the hairs on my arm tingling and standing straight up, as I stood in a giant puddle). There was no gun, no official start - just a “well… I guess you can just head out.” It poured the entire 13.1 miles. Mud, puddles past my ankles, no water stations, not one person on the street cheering the entire last mile of the race… My goal was to sub 2 … and I was on pace the entire race until the last mile, where I tanked it. I crossed the finish at 2:02:00

No, that was no really such a great race back in 2018.

And then I remember the cold, the body shakes, the long wet wait during awards. Ok, so maybe we had to stay because I had in fact placed 3rd in my age group, and would be getting another medal. Ok, so that was one other tiny good thing. Oh my gosh, and all the missed calls and the text messages during my run from my son and his girlfriend who had our youngest son and had no idea what to do with him because he was such a hot mess after being at camp for a week.

Camp… camp had been so hard to navigate through and we had to coordinate so much with so many people to get our youngest picked up and then dropped off so he could go somewhere else because we had left as soon as I had gotten off work. Oh and the dogs had to have been all shuffled around as well.

So, it had been a crazy week of coordinating everything and everyone so I could just go do that race.

But, that race had been on my bucket list. I had already skipped doing it the summer of 2017 because I didn’t give it priority. I had gone back and forth so many times and finally at last minute had just signed up a few weeks before the event…. I remember thinking how I knew we weren’t guaranteed tomorrow, which was my deciding factor to doing it.

And that thought, right there, made me stop short this morning.

We are not guaranteed tomorrow. My life’s overarching motto, after losing our Faith MaryJo in 2015. We cannot take our health, or anything in our lives for granted. Don’t put off today what you might not be able to do tomorrow.

And you know what I know today that I didn't know then when that photo was taken? In 2019, heavy spring snow would cave in the roof of that covered bridge, and while they still had the race that summer, the bridge was not fully repaired and the bridge could not be part of the race. In 2020, the race would be covid canceled entirely. Had I not signed up for that 2018 race, I would have probably never run it.

Sobering, humbling, grateful, thankful.

Yes, that photo was taken before covid would arrive and change our entire lives, before in person racing was basically taken away for an unknown length of time, before everything and everyone was forced to change in their terms of interactions, and thoughts, and beliefs, and … well, that’s another post for another time. I’m going to leave it simply at, that photo was taken “pre-covid.” This reality speaks for itself right now.

My oldest son and his girlfriend were the ones who took our youngest, and both our pups, to the camper and watched them for us while we were gone. Both our pups… what I also didn’t know then, was our precious Lily would pass away in Jan 2020. There were many photos taken of her that they sent to us while we were gone, and today I am so grateful for those dear dear memories of her! The tears sting my eyes missing her, but there is a smile on my face remembering her.

You know what else, those two would break up that fall. It was hard and devastating, and it would be a long journey in their relationship over the next year and a half. This past March, right at the beginning of covid… they would actually get back together again, and I am beyond ecstatic to share they are getting married in June of 2021. Our house is so full of love, and laughter, and smiles, and planning right now. At the time of that photo, I had no idea the hard turns they would have to go through to get them to today.

The hubs and I are also in a nearly black and white different place than we were during that season of 2018. I think back to all the tears and hard, and while of course not all is “perfect perfect” now, we are in such a happier place. We too had no idea the hard turns we would have to go through to get us to today.

So yes, the physical number on the scale today isn't the number on the scale that morning back in June 2018. My arms and abs aren’t as defined, my legs and butt aren’t as toned… But this morning as I spent the time putting paper and embellishments to all those photos, all holding those moments and memories - it allowed me the time to look beyond that specific “click” in time.

Am I supposed to use this moment to shame myself into eating better and exercising more? Am I supposed to use this moment to try extend myself grace and give myself permission to (for the five-hundredth millionth time) just accept and love myself for the who I am right now?

I don’t know, I honestly don’t know what I will do with these current feelings and emotions within me, all stemming from a look into the eyes of a younger, different, yet the same, me.

Yes, in that moment I was happy, and skinnier, and probably making healthier decisions with the food I ate… but the glitter and sparkle and joy captured thirty-seconds after finishing a bucket list half marathon race that started and ended in a covered bridge of all things great and glorious… was not in fact the total snapshot of my life at that moment.

How easy it is to forget the whole picture, the rest of the story, the real reality beyond that which catch us off guard as we are struck by those few vivid and great moments that come back to us, either from a photograph, or a memory, or a dream, or even a food or smell that sparks something magic in our minds.

How easy it is to just stop there and sit on it. To compare, wallow, be upset, frustrated, and disappointed. To replay all the mental tapes of not good enough yet again.

Heck no, that weekend and time surrounding the glow of that moment caught on that photo wasn’t really all that great at all. So why would my mind latch on to that photo and give it the power to take my breath away and cause a flood of emotions and unworthiness to come over me?

Life isn’t just those single snapshots of stopped time.

Life is the entire journey that is happening all around those snapshots of stopped time. It’s the ups and downs, goods and bads, happy and sads, celebrations and sorrows… all woven together, independent strands within the full tapestry.

It’s just all sometimes a little tricky to figure out how to truly see and honestly handle the chasms, and pockets, and tunnels, and dark hiding spots within our minds eye.

How do we see with clarity looking backwards, and how to do we see with truth looking forwards? So much of it is an optical illusion of smoke and mirrors, just trying to trick us, and fool us, and trip us up… which is exactly what the devil is twisting his hands with and trying to manipulate us with. And logically, we know it... we do, we know our mind is trying to hyjack us... and yet it still so quickly and so easily happens.  In the blink of an eye.

"Breath deep" is the phrase the Lord has whispering in mind right now as I’m writing this. Heaven knows I obviously do not have all the answers to any of this, and I will forever struggle with self image and being enough. 

And while a part of me is still struggling with the inner critic and judgements, I find myself so grateful I didn’t stop this morning and just walk away, grateful that I owned those moments and memories and spent the time to allow myself to see and process more clearly the whole of that moment, and feel gratitude in the continuation I see now, but couldn’t then. 

No, I am not that same girl as the one that stood on that finish line that day.  I'm two and a half years older, two and a half more years of life and circumstance happened since then and now.  In reality, I do have to attempt to ask myself, am I really that much "worse" ? This I also don't know the answer to right now.  Just because my weight and BMI is perhaps higher, and my running pace slower, does that emphatically define me as being in a "worse" place in life now compared to then?  And actually, it's been a year since the last time I have gotten myself on my scale, so I'm not sure how factual the facts are and how made up these facts may actually be within my mind.

Perhaps I'm simply in a "different" place?  I'm still running and moving and pushing my body regularly.  I'm still trying to be concious of my health.  I'm still trying to be true, authentic, kind, honest, and real.  Those core values of mine have not changed, and really - isn't that more important than that damn number on the scale?

"Breath deep my child. Know that I created you as enough, even though you cannot seem to fully grasp this concept. You are the whole tapestry, not just the individual snapshot threads of your overall journey. You are all of it… the full, vast, bright spectrum of colors and shapes as seen from a distance, all together, all at once. Be brave, be proud, be enough." ~Jesus, your Lord and Savior.

Next Blog Post { Where I Am Now - Covid Month Nine } HERE

Previous blog post { I've Stopped  } HERE

I've Stopped...

I’ve stopped listening to podcasts, I’ve stopped reading self-help and motivational books, and I’ve stopped going on FB to just randomly scroll… at least for now anyway. I’m sure this will probably change over time, but for now… I just can’t.

I no longer have the capacity to really let anything more in.

Right now life is hard, and frankly it just sucks all the way around. There’s covid-19, rampant forest fires, presidential and political adds, debates, and general crap everywhere. No one is happy, no one is getting along, no one is healthy physically, let alone mentally.

Honestly it’s just really too much for me if I attempt to process is on a finite scale.

I found myself trying to make myself listen to the daily podcasts in my social wellness group, and then on to my once favorite running podcasts, and I was left… just feeling lost, empty, broken… less than. And well, I was feeling very “/ lost / empty / broken / less than” before I even started listening, so what good was any of it possibly doing me?

The last thing that I need right now is more feeling of inadequacy and not enough. What I assumed was supposed to be making me better, stronger, faster – was in fact just dragging me further and further down.

The bodies, the muscles, the mile paces, the distance times, the business successes, the money, the positivity, the home remodels, the DIY covid projects, the all-together all-the-time, the homeschooling, the beautiful and clean homes and living / working spaces, the tidy lives, the happy children, the romantic spouses. Ugh.

My house is a mess, my life is a mess, my body is a mess, and Lord knows… my mental health is a mess.

I stopped listening to all of it, and really to background music all together, I don't even have the radio on in the car.  On rare occassion I will listen to some classical piano by Michele McLaughlin. I quit Melissa Radke and Mel Robbins Live's months ago, and I can’t even Rachel Hollis, Glennon Doyle, and Jen Hatmaker right now #justNO.

I stopped reading self help and started reading fiction. I have read the entire Twilight Saga since July and have thoroughly enjoyed it. I’m currently reading another Stephanie Meyer book, The Chemist, and enjoying it much more than anticipated. I am still watching zero TV. No tv shows, no reality shows, no news, nothing. Ok, except season 2 reruns of What Not To Wear and an occasion Twilight movie (only after having completed reading the book, yeah I’m one of “those” people) while on my treadmill during the really long training days.

Over the last several months I’ve kept my mouth shut, my brain as closed down as possible, and my emotions and feelings flatlined. Survival mode. I quit blogging, I quit trying to think, to process, to reason, to argue with myself, or anyone else for that matter … self preservation mode at its finest. Multi-tasking, once one of my finer talents, not even an option.

I’ve given up all in-person running races. Well, the world and covid basically forced me initially into this, but I am pretty sure that I will continue to only race solo / virtual from now on. Oh, I’m still training and earning the occasional virtual run bling to help support causes close to my heart… but my goals and training is self tailored just for me, merely as a reason to keep myself moving, keep myself motivated, and keep getting myself up every morning to get those miles, muscles, and self sought challenges and goals met.

Over the last eight or nine days, I have slowly felt myself emerging from this current absolute black night of my depth and soul. I feel myself finally being able to look up, raise my head… just a little. I find myself finally able to extend my hand, just ever the slightest to those around me, those close to me, to look, to ask, to try and connect with how they are. And I am finding with everyone’s reply, everyone’s response – we are all in a collective hot mess right now. It’s not just me struggling just to get from one day to the next… it’s everyone. All of us.

I believe the entire world, country, community, town, neighborhood is being rocked to their very cores right now with everything going on in the world.

We are all a mess. We are all hurting. We are all lost. We are all struggling. And this brings out the best in some of us, and it brings out the absolutely worst in some of us. When you mix hot mess with a world full of sickness, and hatred, and fear, and utter ugly… it only makes everything that much worse, snowballing tenfold and quickly enfolding everyone and everything in the midst of its wild free-fall and destruction.

Honestly I think we are all hanging on by a tiny little thread. Many of us thought we were a mess before all this, before 2020 arrived. And now, most of us are just praying for the days when the pre-2020 mess was as bad as what it was.

We are living in a time and reality that no one has ever lived through before. Most feel they are navigating all of this blind, and feeling completely alone. I don’t think people are actually honestly admitting to this, but I just know I cannot be the only one laying on the very bottom of the dark hole I’m in, with my eyes squeezed shut tight, trying to just will away the lost and hurt and broken all around me.

At first, all this lost and alone was almost “novel” and I felt somewhat ok and justified in all the mayhem scouring within me. But then somewhere along the line this summer, everyone seemed to pick themselves back up and go on living, go back to normal. Back to no masks, no social distancing, no overall care or fear of general public safety. The schools started back in full person learning, and suddenly the little safe bubble within my home, was no longer safe. Even if I stayed home, if I wore the masks, if I did the social distancing, if I quarantined…. It no longer was enough. Because now my child was leaving and coming back into my safe bubble every day, and my safe bubble was no longer … my safe bubble.

The day school started it went from not “if” I will get covid, but “when.” And that was a really hard reality for me to come to terms with. Yes, I could have kept him at home, but I really didn’t feel like that was an option or choice. And I’m not writing this to bring up any controversy or access for anyone to come at with me any remarks or judgements. I’m simply stating what I am feeling. I’m not afraid of getting sick or of dying from covid. But you know what, I’ve worked ridiculously hard for my current state of physical health, and someone else being able to take that away from me, I find frustrating.

I don’t want to have anything hurled back at me involving politics, or sickness, or immunizations or anything derogatory. I am merely wanting to ask for, no…beg for, everyone to just choose to be kind. Choose to not spread the hate. Choose to do the next right thing, take the next high road, make the next wise choice.

We are all dealing with some form of mental messiness right now. Some are handling it better than others, some are hiding it better than others, but I am convinced… we are all in various states of hot mess right now, and I just desperately want us all to figure out how to try love better and hate less, how to try see better and ignore less, how to try listen better and assume less, how to try heal better and hurt less.

Oh I have so many things, and yet find myself at an utter loss to find the words to try say anything at all. I’m so far from perfect, and so at a loss as to what to even do next, that I am left here grappling with the reality at hand, and rendered basically mute and helpless.

My heart is aching, my soul is weary, my head is barely wanting to work. I want to remain closed off, shut off, shut down. I don’t want to see, or feel, or hear any more negativity and strife. I want to feel the sunshine and experience the warmth of love, hope, grace, and acceptance. I want health and happiness and simple, quiet peace. And really, why in the world has that become too much to ask for?

Oh come Lord Jesus, oh please come quickly.

Previous Blog Post { Doing Hard Things When You Don't Want To } HERE

Doing Hard Things When You're Not Ok

I’ve stared at this blank white page for the last five minutes, not wanting to write and not knowing what to write. I’m not in a good place right now, and while all emotions are high and easily accessible, the words aren’t.

And maybe they are, but I’m not allowing myself the ability to try to rationally think, feel, process, pick myself back up. And in all honestly, it’s not that I’m not just not allowing myself that, I am utterly incapable of it.

I don’t want to share, I don’t want to think, I don’t want to feel, I don’t want to people, I don’t want to process. I want to continue to pull far inside, hidden and shut down, completely and absolutely shut down. It’s all so real, so raw, so intense, so loud, so overwhelming, so visceral.

I feel I am only a small breath away from a full panic attack at any moment. And the only way I know how to survive at this moment is to do everything in my power to shut down, to flatline, to only allow today.

No yesterdays, no tomorrows – just the right here and the right now.

The insanity within me right now is very very real, and very very unstable. A week ago I unexpectedly reached a moment when #onemorething happened, and I didn’t have the capacity to process it. I was at absolute max capacity of all I was capable of dealing with rationally, all I was capable of holding within the palms of my mom hands, only I didn’t know it until I was thrown that next thing and there was just no more room.

No more rational, no more anything, except the insanity. Only the insanity within.

I couldn’t think, I couldn’t process, I couldn’t deal, I couldn’t comprehend, I couldn’t find a way to stop the inner demons all screaming and racing and banging all wild child inside me.

So I didn’t.

I finally pulled myself somewhat back together enough to know I must stop thinking, processing, dealing, comprehending all together for a while. Survival mode as my only option. Leave me the fuck alone mode. I retreated to the deep recesses of my inner manic self.

Breath in, breath out.
Breath in, breath out.

No social media, no selfies, no thinking, feeling, processing whenever possible. Numb, flatlined, disconnected as much as I can disconnect. I just can’t even.

And this is how I’ve sat for the last while. My inner voices either utterly still and dormant or so out-of-control and so loud I can’t even begin to describe its reality.

This weekend we said no lake, no #sunsetoclock. When the place you once sought refuge at, the place that healed and helped now holds pain, angst, and big emotions, it’s just not the same appeal and desire to go back.

This weekend, I took a deep breath and said yes to the hubs last minute plan to venture to the city a few hours away and go to the zoo. Just the three of us. They said masks were required and had strict guidelines on the number of people in the park.

I admit, I was very disappointed in their lack of mask enforcement and felt social distancing was not at all an option. There were running, climbing, touching children with every turn and step, and crowds and lines and people everywhere. And the people that chose to purposely defy the mask requirements, especially within the buildings – left me with rising anger and bitterness by the time we finally left. Hot, tired, hungry, disappointed, overwhelmed.

We then waited forty-five minutes outside before we could go in for our table at a restaurant that had an aloof waiter that was asking for a 28% tip on our bill. I am never one to under-tip, and totally realize the way of the world is different now with less tables to serve and higher risks to them, but I felt it a little pushy of an ask for me.

And then we put our masks on again and walked into a large retail sports store. The boys headed off together, and I found myself walking around getting to look at things, try things on, contemplate possible purchases… in person. This was the first time I had been out shopping in person since early March. This wasn’t an online, essentials only, from my home, buying experience. And I admit, it was really nice. I allowed myself to look, to want, to dream just a little. I bought a new puzzle for my son and I (for when I’m sure we’ll going to get shut down again for Covid 2.0 after schools continue to open up for in person learning) and a special gift for a friend that I didn’t know I needed to get until I saw it.

Yesterday, I woke up after turning my alarm off over four hours earlier, and told myself it was time to do something hard. It was time to get myself out of bed, get myself out there, and get some serious weekend running mileage in. It was time to put on a dress, drive over to our physical church building and make myself walk inside to get to be a part of a beautiful service ordaining my dear friend into the pastoralship of the church.

I sat there in the parking lot looking at the front doors. Doors I used to enter every day when I worked there as the facilities and communications manager. The doors I entered nearly every day of the entire life of our #faithmaryjo. So very many emotions lie on those very door handles allowing one to go from outside to inside within the matter of a few steps. The job, the responsibilities, the time, the friendships, the hardships, the meetings, the goodbyes, the hellos all still so alive and fresh immediately coursed through me as I reached out to pull open those doors.

This was the first time I have physically entered this building, these people, since February. I’ve watched online, and as I sat there in my car wiling my body to move, I also was well aware that I don’t even know where I am with God right now. I’m not filled with the anger that I’ve carried towards Him before, but I know we’re not in a great place together, He and I. He’s probably trying to call, to whisper, to pull me to Him and I am purposely not listening, not allowing Him (or anyone else) in right now.

Access to me is shut off right now for nearly one and all, including God. In time I assume this will again change, as it always seems to, but for now – I chalk my spiritual health right up there with my mental and physical health and it’s all under bright flashing neon lights screaming #htomessexpress.

But yesterday I made myself do hard things. I made myself finish the last day of the new workout program I had committed to. I made myself put on the running clothes and get through a #sevenmilesunday training day. I made myself open my eyes and see the nature around me, daring myself to identify seven specific beautiful things while out on that run. One of those, being an unexpected encounter with someone I work with, whom I haven’t seen in person since March. It completely and totally caught me off guard, and yet, it was so nice to see and connect, live in person – not just via my silent computer screen with its blinking cursor of moving letters.

I put on a dress and entered a public building that holds many many memories and emotions for me. And as I stood there in the lobby looking around, I found myself thinking to the crowds of people I had been around the previous day at the zoo, the restaurant, the store, two and a half hours away. There is a really big difference being brave and going out in public surrounded by total strangers, and then there is an entirely different being brave and going to a public place filled with faces you know, faces with names and stories and memories all woven together with your own.

I’m not ready to step back into the light. I’m not ready to fully feel and see and know. I’m not ready to dive back into social media and the news, the covid statistics, the presidential politics, all the things flinging hate and confusion and unrest into the world and my home.  I’m not ready to travel back to the lake. I’m not ready to allow myself to surface from this rock bottom low I’ve crashed into.

I’m not wanting to wallow, I’m not wanting pity, I’m not wanting advice on meds and therapists. I’m just not wanting to feel, to hurt, to process, to re-enter the noise and chaos and loss of control. I’m just allowing myself to be selfish and put myself first, knowing I need time to allow myself be failed and fallen and fully broken.

Failed and fallen and fully broken… and for some reason not in a rush to pick myself back up, to try put it all back together again in some perfect put together package that I know will never exist.

I am a mess, inside and out. A messier mess than my normal #hotmessexpress.  This is residing in me at a whole different level.  This is worse than what I experienced after finding out and coming to grips about Faith.

This is me, this is who I am, this is who God created me to be. Yes, I’m sure that He, and myself, know I’m capable of more, of far better and greater than the dirty heap I’m currently lying in, and in time I will (hopefully?) attempt to climb my way back up and come to terms with where I am and where I need to go spiritually, mentally and physically… but for now, for today, I will continue to hide, to pull away, pull inward and lie low in the dark, praying for quiet, stillness, relief around and within… begging for the demons to recede, to pull away and stop their incessant screaming and crying out in all their angst, emotions, and discontentment.

It’s ok to not be ok. And today, I am not ok. And I am simply ok with that. 

 

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Next Post { I've Stopped} HERE