I’d love to promise I will come back and fill in all the missing stories and moments, but as much as I love writing and long to actually be a writer and write, I’m just too busy right now. Well, I’ve always been too busy, and I know I will always continue to be too busy to be a "real" writer (you know, how I'm always going to be too slow to be a "real" runner)… so you will just continue to get a few random ramblings here and there from me, and that’s all I’ve got to give.
Even though I would love it to be more.
So, this morning marks day number three in a row that I got myself out of bed to workout. And for years and years and years – I went never ever missing three days in a row of working out.
So, this morning marks day number three in a row that I got myself out of bed to workout. And for years and years and years – I went never ever missing three days in a row of working out.
And yet, here I am. I’m in the heavy shadows of turning fifty, and I’ve found myself in a year of just not caring, not trying, giving up perhaps.
I’ve gained the weight and lost the muscle. I’ve let go of my endurance and let all goals float off into the wind, and perimenopause didn't even knock, she just walked on in and took a seat - and has never left.
I recently had my phone crash and I lost everything on it. All the photos, all the videos, all the apps. Some I was able to restore, most of it all just gone. Starting back over. Reset to factory settings. I lost my runkeeper app, and with that I lost over 13,000 workout entries, which equaled I don’t even know how many miles logged. I gave my son my garmin watch at the beginning of his cross country season this fall. He reset it and started over with his current running journey coursing through it. All of my miles and stats gone.
The same day my phone crashed, my computer also crashed (not related oddly enough) and they had to wipe my entire computer and set it all back to original settings, all data lost. It’s been a bit of a slow painful journey trying to just get back up and working again on my phone and computer. Passwords, work, files, documents, apps… all needing to be reinstalled, resaved, reset up.
Back to the basics.
Recently I also found myself transitioning from working from home for the last three and a half years – to having to work back in the office. Oh and I also transitioned to working a second job again full time as I reopened and launched my full time cake and cupcake side gig business (we need the money, it's just as simple as that). OH and I also changed jobs at my full time job within the last month - and all the stress in which that entails while transitioning back to the office. I’m still working at the same company, but a different job. I am now actually back to working at my very original first full time job in my career as a graphic artist – as a junior designer. I worked in that position for fourteen years, and would unexpectedly not return to work after we adopted our son. His care needs were more than we had expected and childcare ended up needing to be done by me, at home. I transitioned from full time working mom to full time work from home mom with a teenager and an infant and growing a tiny little cake decorating side gig into a full time career, at least for a few years.
Ten years (minus two days) later I would find myself back at full time office work back at the same company. I stepped into an art admin roll after someone retired. Five years later, another wonderful friend and employee retired, and I decided to apply and try return to my original full time artist / designer position.
During all of this transition of back to office and applying for a new job, I also found myself on the other end of a phone call from a distraught husband I needed to pick up on some random gravel road outside of town and rush him to the emergency room where I sat on a hard metal chair watching all the doctors and nurses clamor and poke and administer textbook heart attack procedures on my forty-two year old husband.
As I sat there I was asked if he had his power of attorney paperwork in place, because it wasn’t in their computer. Power of attorney? For my husband? No. No, that had never been discussed or thought about. We are both busy doing all of that exact paperwork things for both of our parents right now, this was supposed to be a call about my dad first – not my husband. Not now, not yet.
Long story short – we’re about a month out from all of that now… He is home and we are grateful all testing came back showing no heart damage. He is back to work, he is eating many more salads, and you know what – we still haven’t had that conversation or done anything about that power of attorney stuff for us yet…
Although, I did finally fill out and turn in all the paperwork to try get a passport. I said I would never get one, mostly because I wanted the excuse to never have to travel somewhere where God would use me and wreck me entirely (this is the honest to God truth). My hubby may have also gone to the travel agent and booked a resort trip for us in Mexico over my birthday and our twentieth anniversary this upcoming March.
Funny story, I got the mail earlier this week – and in it was a letter that my passport application had been rejected. I will leave the rest of this story for another blog post ;-)
I’m working a new job, we’re battling surviving day to day with an angry, hard to love teenager (whom, by the way, we love to the ends of the world and back which is just a hard hard journey for us right now), that is just finishing a long field marching band and cross country season, my hubby is working on stepping forward with his health journey, we have a beautiful granddaughter and my oldest son and his amazing wife – and I've found myself too busy to see them for weeks, which I realized as I stepped into the emergency room waiting room and seeing them for the first time after probably six weeks. My heart aches that I can’t be a better grandma in this season for them, but I praise the Lord daily that they are currently so so blessed with health and happiness and are just getting to love living their lives loving the Lord and others so well right now.
And in all of this… I walked away from my health journey. Maybe I ran away, maybe I let it slip away. However it happened... I am very much currently ..."away"....
I entered January 2022 absolutely exhausted, burned out, done. I was done chasing the miles and the steps and the calories and the macros… I knew I needed to dial back, but didn’t know how. I spent all of 2022 trying to just do less and figure out how to be more (or “enough”) in that “less.” I battled how to do less and not be “less than.” I’m still battling that, and I’m sure I probably always will be.
I entered 2023 training with a RunDisney Princess Weekend event registration, and plane tickets and vacation plans made to check off the biggest bucket list wish off my goals and dreams. Before I crossed the final finish line of that event, I had already registered for one more attempt to cross off yet another bucket list event, the elusive Deadwood SD Half Marathon. The race I had registered for in 2019 (couldn't get off work) and 2020 (covid canceled) and 2021 (oldest got married that weekend) and 2022 (my first grandbaby was born that weekend) – so I had yet to actually run this race.
In an epic adventure with a bestie I actually finally crossed that finish line in June 2023, and I walked away and never ran again.
Ok, that’s maybe a tiny bit exaggerated, but not by much.
I was (am) registered for nothing. I had (have) nothing to train for. I was (am) exhausted mentally, physically, spiritually…. And I rested. I spent the entire summer resting. I didn’t get up early. I didn’t work out. I didn’t really do anything, except rest in this unending state of survival.
I’ve gained the weight and lost the muscle. I’ve let go of my endurance and let all goals float off into the wind, and perimenopause didn't even knock, she just walked on in and took a seat - and has never left.
I recently had my phone crash and I lost everything on it. All the photos, all the videos, all the apps. Some I was able to restore, most of it all just gone. Starting back over. Reset to factory settings. I lost my runkeeper app, and with that I lost over 13,000 workout entries, which equaled I don’t even know how many miles logged. I gave my son my garmin watch at the beginning of his cross country season this fall. He reset it and started over with his current running journey coursing through it. All of my miles and stats gone.
The same day my phone crashed, my computer also crashed (not related oddly enough) and they had to wipe my entire computer and set it all back to original settings, all data lost. It’s been a bit of a slow painful journey trying to just get back up and working again on my phone and computer. Passwords, work, files, documents, apps… all needing to be reinstalled, resaved, reset up.
Back to the basics.
Recently I also found myself transitioning from working from home for the last three and a half years – to having to work back in the office. Oh and I also transitioned to working a second job again full time as I reopened and launched my full time cake and cupcake side gig business (we need the money, it's just as simple as that). OH and I also changed jobs at my full time job within the last month - and all the stress in which that entails while transitioning back to the office. I’m still working at the same company, but a different job. I am now actually back to working at my very original first full time job in my career as a graphic artist – as a junior designer. I worked in that position for fourteen years, and would unexpectedly not return to work after we adopted our son. His care needs were more than we had expected and childcare ended up needing to be done by me, at home. I transitioned from full time working mom to full time work from home mom with a teenager and an infant and growing a tiny little cake decorating side gig into a full time career, at least for a few years.
Ten years (minus two days) later I would find myself back at full time office work back at the same company. I stepped into an art admin roll after someone retired. Five years later, another wonderful friend and employee retired, and I decided to apply and try return to my original full time artist / designer position.
During all of this transition of back to office and applying for a new job, I also found myself on the other end of a phone call from a distraught husband I needed to pick up on some random gravel road outside of town and rush him to the emergency room where I sat on a hard metal chair watching all the doctors and nurses clamor and poke and administer textbook heart attack procedures on my forty-two year old husband.
As I sat there I was asked if he had his power of attorney paperwork in place, because it wasn’t in their computer. Power of attorney? For my husband? No. No, that had never been discussed or thought about. We are both busy doing all of that exact paperwork things for both of our parents right now, this was supposed to be a call about my dad first – not my husband. Not now, not yet.
Long story short – we’re about a month out from all of that now… He is home and we are grateful all testing came back showing no heart damage. He is back to work, he is eating many more salads, and you know what – we still haven’t had that conversation or done anything about that power of attorney stuff for us yet…
Although, I did finally fill out and turn in all the paperwork to try get a passport. I said I would never get one, mostly because I wanted the excuse to never have to travel somewhere where God would use me and wreck me entirely (this is the honest to God truth). My hubby may have also gone to the travel agent and booked a resort trip for us in Mexico over my birthday and our twentieth anniversary this upcoming March.
Funny story, I got the mail earlier this week – and in it was a letter that my passport application had been rejected. I will leave the rest of this story for another blog post ;-)
I’m working a new job, we’re battling surviving day to day with an angry, hard to love teenager (whom, by the way, we love to the ends of the world and back which is just a hard hard journey for us right now), that is just finishing a long field marching band and cross country season, my hubby is working on stepping forward with his health journey, we have a beautiful granddaughter and my oldest son and his amazing wife – and I've found myself too busy to see them for weeks, which I realized as I stepped into the emergency room waiting room and seeing them for the first time after probably six weeks. My heart aches that I can’t be a better grandma in this season for them, but I praise the Lord daily that they are currently so so blessed with health and happiness and are just getting to love living their lives loving the Lord and others so well right now.
And in all of this… I walked away from my health journey. Maybe I ran away, maybe I let it slip away. However it happened... I am very much currently ..."away"....
I entered January 2022 absolutely exhausted, burned out, done. I was done chasing the miles and the steps and the calories and the macros… I knew I needed to dial back, but didn’t know how. I spent all of 2022 trying to just do less and figure out how to be more (or “enough”) in that “less.” I battled how to do less and not be “less than.” I’m still battling that, and I’m sure I probably always will be.
I entered 2023 training with a RunDisney Princess Weekend event registration, and plane tickets and vacation plans made to check off the biggest bucket list wish off my goals and dreams. Before I crossed the final finish line of that event, I had already registered for one more attempt to cross off yet another bucket list event, the elusive Deadwood SD Half Marathon. The race I had registered for in 2019 (couldn't get off work) and 2020 (covid canceled) and 2021 (oldest got married that weekend) and 2022 (my first grandbaby was born that weekend) – so I had yet to actually run this race.
In an epic adventure with a bestie I actually finally crossed that finish line in June 2023, and I walked away and never ran again.
Ok, that’s maybe a tiny bit exaggerated, but not by much.
I was (am) registered for nothing. I had (have) nothing to train for. I was (am) exhausted mentally, physically, spiritually…. And I rested. I spent the entire summer resting. I didn’t get up early. I didn’t work out. I didn’t really do anything, except rest in this unending state of survival.
My mind tells my I'm lazy. I'm weak. I'm not enough. I'm not worthy. I try not listen, as I eat the chips and desserts and hit the snooze over and over and over again.
Suddenly it’s another October. The weight is back on. The demons in my head have almost stopped fighting with the other side telling me to get up, show up, shape up…
Why? Why care? Why try? Why eat the vegetables? Why drink the water? Why lift the weights and run the miles? Just be done with it all. Eat the cake, drink the alcohol and just stop caring.
And yet… deep down, I do care. And that little voice holding my “why” in its hand, is still on occasion whispering to me my health is important, and that I do actually still care.
Three days ago my alarm went off and I actually got myself out of bed and went down and struggled through a few slow ridiculously hard miles. It was worse than I remember it was when I started all those years and years ago.
I told myself (for the millionth time) it was another day one. Another starting over. But where do you even start at this point? So, I told myself – I was simply going to just work at getting back to the basics.
A little bit of intentional movement every day. Meditation every day. And back to the very basic of intermittent fasting every day. 16:8 / 7pm-11am. That’s all I can offer to allow myself to start with.
Suddenly it’s another October. The weight is back on. The demons in my head have almost stopped fighting with the other side telling me to get up, show up, shape up…
Why? Why care? Why try? Why eat the vegetables? Why drink the water? Why lift the weights and run the miles? Just be done with it all. Eat the cake, drink the alcohol and just stop caring.
And yet… deep down, I do care. And that little voice holding my “why” in its hand, is still on occasion whispering to me my health is important, and that I do actually still care.
Three days ago my alarm went off and I actually got myself out of bed and went down and struggled through a few slow ridiculously hard miles. It was worse than I remember it was when I started all those years and years ago.
I told myself (for the millionth time) it was another day one. Another starting over. But where do you even start at this point? So, I told myself – I was simply going to just work at getting back to the basics.
A little bit of intentional movement every day. Meditation every day. And back to the very basic of intermittent fasting every day. 16:8 / 7pm-11am. That’s all I can offer to allow myself to start with.
I haven't downloaded any of the tracking apps again (maybe in time I will, I don't know). Do I post sweaty selfies again on social media? Does anyone care? Do I actually care if anyone does or doesn't care? I don't know. I honestly don't know anything right now.
Forget about the half marathons and full marathons I’ve trained for and run. Forget about the weight I have lost. Forget about the run streaks and nutrition logged every single days for years and years and years.
It’s all gone from my phone. It’s all gone, period. Time to turn back around and just take the next best step forward. Slow. Hard. Awkward. Sad. Frustrating. Just simply back to the basics. Again.
Yesterday my alarm went off, and I got up again. I put on the running gear and I drug myself through some sunrise miles. I can’t even remember the last time I’d done that.
This morning, day three… my alarm went off. I didn’t get up. I went back to sleep. But then I DID get up and I DID get in a few miles and I woke up the grumpy teenager and said we were going to in person church (I faithfully watch church every week, it's just so much easier to watch from home then actually walk in and worship in person).
And now... I just need to work on how to get back to being all in after being all out for so long.
Forget about the half marathons and full marathons I’ve trained for and run. Forget about the weight I have lost. Forget about the run streaks and nutrition logged every single days for years and years and years.
It’s all gone from my phone. It’s all gone, period. Time to turn back around and just take the next best step forward. Slow. Hard. Awkward. Sad. Frustrating. Just simply back to the basics. Again.
Yesterday my alarm went off, and I got up again. I put on the running gear and I drug myself through some sunrise miles. I can’t even remember the last time I’d done that.
This morning, day three… my alarm went off. I didn’t get up. I went back to sleep. But then I DID get up and I DID get in a few miles and I woke up the grumpy teenager and said we were going to in person church (I faithfully watch church every week, it's just so much easier to watch from home then actually walk in and worship in person).
And we DID arrive, and we DID walk in two minutes late (because of teenager negotiations to get him in the car) and my dad who works at the church was so excited to see us arrive, which made my heart hurt a little – and he told us there was still room by mom in their normal back pew.
We walked in slightly late, while all of the little children were singing their hearts out up front (and in the thirteen steps from the back door to the middle back pew my heart squeezed tight knowing our little Faith was not up there singing with all the kiddos that should have been her classmates) and I sat down right next to my mom. In the same church, and same back row of the same church I attended all through my childhood. The church I have recently returned back to (two years ago) after attending (and working at) another church in town regularly for most of my adult life.
We walked in slightly late, while all of the little children were singing their hearts out up front (and in the thirteen steps from the back door to the middle back pew my heart squeezed tight knowing our little Faith was not up there singing with all the kiddos that should have been her classmates) and I sat down right next to my mom. In the same church, and same back row of the same church I attended all through my childhood. The church I have recently returned back to (two years ago) after attending (and working at) another church in town regularly for most of my adult life.
Oh the things we run from... and the things we return home to...
A little later, my dad snuck in on the end and I found myself sitting between my parents, just like my childhood, only it was my teenage son beside me instead of my teenage brother.
Talk about back to basics.
I listened to my parents sing, my mom handed out mentos candies after the sermon started. I opened the Bible. I sang the Doxology.
It’s as back to the basics as I can get right now. It’s all I can try for, hope for. Another day one. Another start to hopefully another season of health journey for me.
Will I get up when the alarm goes off tomorrow? I don’t know.
A little later, my dad snuck in on the end and I found myself sitting between my parents, just like my childhood, only it was my teenage son beside me instead of my teenage brother.
Talk about back to basics.
I listened to my parents sing, my mom handed out mentos candies after the sermon started. I opened the Bible. I sang the Doxology.
It’s as back to the basics as I can get right now. It’s all I can try for, hope for. Another day one. Another start to hopefully another season of health journey for me.
Will I get up when the alarm goes off tomorrow? I don’t know.
I don’t know how to even start over – how to place healthy boundaries between myself and my expectations of myself. How to figure out the inner balance between perfection and self love and acceptance.
I’m not good at this. I should be, after having to start over again and again and again so many times in this damn life of mine. I want to say I’ve failed again, but I haven’t failed.
I’m not good at this. I should be, after having to start over again and again and again so many times in this damn life of mine. I want to say I’ve failed again, but I haven’t failed.
I’ve lived. And I've loved. And I’m one who does all of that with all of my heart. I’m an all in or all out person.
And now... I just need to work on how to get back to being all in after being all out for so long.
