Faith Week

We have officially again entered Faith Week.

At least I have.

Everyone in our house does this month, this week, this thing a little differently.  Since day one we have all navigated this Journey to Faith differently.  Yes, we're on the journey together, but we are not always standing at the same place on the road together.  Truth be told, we rarely are.  And that's ok.

We all process differently.  We all remember differently.  We all honor differently.  We all grieve differently.  We have all been affected differently.  And that has become a delicate and intricate little dance we've all lived within now for the last seven years.

To be honest, some of us might not even talk about her audibly this week.  Some of us will process quietly, inwardly, silently... while some will celebrate her a little more boldly, outwardly. And I've stopped being hurt, confused, and offended by that.

She was one child, who affected all of us in her own special and unique way.

Six years ago we celebrated her first birth day on Easter morning.  We didn't feel like being with people or extended family.  We didn't feel like celebrating Jesus's amazing resurrection.  We took a little trip and we stayed away.  Not everyone understood this choice, but it was what we felt we needed to do.

Somehow multiple years have continued to pass.  Some years I've had people with me as I visit the cemetery, some years I have gone alone.  The invite has always been open, and I'm never quite sure who will join me and who won't.  Some years I have tears as I stand there, some years I don't.  Some years the tears have hit before, some years the tears haven't come until later.

For myself, I have always gone into this week with a heavy heart.  I truly believe that my body remembers and my body grieves, along with the grieving and memory within my mind and soul. All of me remembers the ache, the pain, the loss, the heartache.  I grieve all that isn't and won't be.  I try to allow myself to feel all that, and I try to also attempt to find something positive within the story as well. Every year I make a little cake of some sort, and almost every year I have run some kind of virtual race in her memory and honor.

To me, running signifies pain, determination, grit, overcoming, wanting to quit over and over but not allowing myself to.  Preparing, training, holding on, hanging on, and enduring the horrible until the end is reached. Living through it, surviving it, and then walking away and being able to talk and share about it after.

And truth be told, I think I also have trained and run something long, hard, and difficult every year as a punishment to the body that I feel has left me disappointed over and over again by what it can't do and hasn't done.  This year I am working on that mindset, so I actually don't even know what distance I'm going to even run yet, but I know it will not be anything long or double digit milage.

Most years I get a pink rose, like the one we had at her funeral. Most years I get a balloon or two, and I will take everything along with my race metal and leave it at the cemetery for the day.  I bring water and a cloth to clean the stone off. Some years there's been snow on the ground, some years not. We can't leave anything there overnight any more since they've changed the cemetery rules in the town where we live (except over Memorial Day, then you get a week I believe).

So I always drive away knowing that I will have to be back later that day to pick it all back up.  Some times this leaves me happy, and sometimes it just leaves me sad and annoyed.

But yes, here we are yet again. And I'm not sure I have anything left, or surely anything new to post about... Is there anything more or different this year than all the years previous? I doubt it.  So this will probably be my only post this year as we inch closer and closer to that infamous date in our lives.

The day we said hello and goodbye all at the same time. It left a hole if all of our hearts, and left all of us clinging to a differently outlook, a different hope, a different view of life and love.  It's brought us together and ripped us apart all at the same time.  It's all the things and none of the things all at the same time.

This week will I will drink from all my Faith themed mugs, wear all my Faith themed shirts, prepare for a remembrance run on Sunday, make a little cake that all of us will look at because I will set it in the middle of the table, but I'm not sure who will all partake in celebrating and eating it.

And that's ok.

I'm doing what I need to do.  Everyone else will also do what they need to do.  And that's ok.  It's simply our Journey to Faith, together and alone.

2016 * 2017 * 2018 * 2019 * 2020 * 2021

Previous Blog Post { I'm Not Quite Sure What I'm Doing } HERE

Not Quite Sure What I'm Doing

I'm not quite sure what I'm doing, but I think I may have started actual in person, outside, half marathon training again this week.

I haven't run outside at home since before covid.  The world just became a little too scary, so I retreated to my basement every morning. I have a treadmill, elliptical, bike, BB membership, and recently added a rowing machine. I mean, why in the world would I venture outside if I didn't have to?!

Two years ago I took a serious vow that I was done racing any in person live races. Anywhere. Anytime. Period.  I had been signed up and training for many different things in the spring of 2020 and everything was covid canceled.  I would run a few of them virtually (in my basement) and I have signed up online for a few more virtual races since then, but I have continued to not allow myself to re-enter the streets and crowds and anxiety of in person racing.

I'm not even sure why, it's just something I said in 2020.  I'm getting older (and slower) is my main reason.

But there is this one little caveat. The Mickelson Trail Half Marathon. Ugh.

I eagerly signed up for this for the first time in 2018 (for the 2019 race). I would need one day off work, the day after, to get back home. And while I could have probably gotten it off, there were others in the department that ended up also off over that timeframe, and I knew I could not in good conscience have that day off.  So I didn't run it.

2020 I was signed up for the second time. Covid canceled.  It was decided we could defer it 2021 or 2022.  I deferred to 2021.

2021 would be the wedding weekend of my son and beautiful daughter-in-law. There was no way I could travel six hours away for a race the day after the wedding.  They graciously allowed me to defer one last time to 2022.

2022 is the current due date of our first grand baby. You can't even make this kind of stuff up, and I'm laughing at God's great humor as I type this.

The due date changed from the original date they had thought, and it would be months before I realized that the updated due date was smack dab in the middle of a family vacation half marathon race weekend. My initial reaction was to freak out, ok - not actually freak out, but I was suddenly faced with having to make another decision about this race.

More than anything I wanted to just say I wasn't going to do it, cancel the trip, cancel the hotel reservations, leave the PTO on the work calendar and call it good.  No training. No outdoor running. No traveling. No pre-race anxiety. No live in person race surrounded by hundreds/thousands of other (faster) runners. No new coffee mug to earn.

But... what if... what if the baby was born a week early? What if the baby was born a week late? What if... and we all know the avenues my lossmom mind would immediately go to and I had to just take a breath and walk away for a while. 

I counted 12 weeks out from race day and circled the date on my calendar. I would have to make a decision by then.  Would I start training? Would I cancel the whole thing?

That circled date arrived a week and a half ago.  I went around and around in my head of all the things I didn't want to do, most of which was go outside in the cold and dark and attempt to start training... But, that's exactly what I did.

Outside running is way more difficult for me than inside. Mentally and physically. I've suffered a large back injury a year ago. I had a long go with covid a few months ago. I'm closer now to 50 than I am to 40.  And I was never a strong and fast runner when I first started running in my early 40's.

I have decided to leave the hotel reservations. I have decided to seriously start the training, with all training to be done outside.  We will decide the day before we are scheduled to leave if we will leave, or if we will cancel. We are good with this plan, and excited to see what journey God will lead us on over the next twelve plus weeks.

Will I make it through all twelve weeks of training? I honestly don't know. I am through week one, and I am already dealing with some pretty intense back issues, so I'm just not sure.  Will I race in person and cross the finish line of one last live race? I have no idea.  Will the baby be early and I will be that crazy proud runner grandma talking about it to every person standing next to me in the line up coral?  Hopefully!

So for now, I guess I can only leave you with a "Well, tune in to find out!" promise.

#runlikethewindbullseye #motherrunner #runningnonrunner #halfmarathontraining #dohardthings

Previous blog post { Yet Another March } HERE

Next blog post { Faith Week } HERE

Yet Another March

I am standing in the middle of yet another March.

I still have not lost the weight.
I still have not cleaned the house.
I still have not magically swooped into my own life and Mary Poppins myself into anything great and acceptable.

Every year for as long as I can remember March was that “goal month” … the birthday month, the anniversary month, the crap it’s-almost-shorts-and-swimsuit-season-again month.

Birthdays are just the natural go-to goal date for most I would think, next to New Year’s. Well, for me anyway, it’s always been my birthday. The goal weight, the hopes, the dreams, the long away goals and desires we’ve allowed to settle within us, circled in red on that one special day of “celebration.”

And yet, every year, somehow, the days continue to pass, the weeks, the months, and suddenly February has done its usual “totally-rushed-by” and boom… it’s March.

March. Again. I’m just shaking my head. Again

Oh the state of my life. The state of my house. The state of my health.

Actually, no… wait a second! My fingers just automatically typed the words that my brain was whispering (hollering!) into my ears… but really… really is the state of my life, my house, my health THAT bad?

Or am I just currently in a full season of “living”?

Perhaps we are just currently in the season of “living” in our house with all the people and pets, with all our things (special and non-special) scattered throughout the rooms and surfaces as we go about “living” our lives during this time of work, school, parenting our kids, parenting our parents, appointments, adulting (this is the word I have coined for you know… ALL THE THINGS that have to get done… bills, laundry, essentials shopping, cleaning, cooking, friendshipping (yeah, not a word, I see that, but oh well, welcome to my vocabulary)). And getting gas for crying out loud. I hate getting gas and I don’t even know why. #adultingishard

So, how do we embrace these busy, chaotic, hectic, unsettled seasons in our lives? How do we allow ourselves to slow down and to give ourselves, our families, our homes, our bodies the grace they surely need and deserve?

It is such an unbelievably hard concept to hold isn’t it? Slow. Grace. And why? Why and how did we all end up chasing this unattainable state of perfection and contentment?! I know it can’t just be me that feels this way.

Although… I do wonder if not everyone has grouped together “perfection” and “contentment” in the same way as I have. For some reason in my mind I have this belief that I won’t achieve contentment until I have achieved perfection. And really, contentment and perfection probably aren’t even anything anyone can actually ever “achieve” this side of Heaven.

So we are (or at least I am) always always always feeling three days and ten steps behind (and that's on the good days)… all.the.time.

And then we find ourselves thinking… There’s never enough help. There’s never enough gratitude. There’s never enough recognition. But you know, those are all outward expectations we are putting on the world and people around us, while turning it internally and telling ourselves that surely we aren’t receiving these things because we just simply aren’t good enough.

But all of it really is just the narratives we are allowing to play in our minds. Every one of us have grown up being influenced by so many different factors. Parents, friends, environments, social status, economic status, school systems, jobs, marriages, children… Every single little thing has helped mold us and meld us into these individual people that we all are.

And we really are all just wonderful individuals. We are! No matter who has told us differently, or what has affected us to make us believe it about ourselves differently.

We are created in the image of God, to love and create, to be given gifts and talents, to be influencers to the world around us. And yet somehow, in all of that creativity and influencing of others, we also allow others to influence us… what we think, what we feel, what we want, what we don’t want…

And somehow that perfect person that God intricately created gets a little blurred and a little bruised, by both true reality and by the perceived reality within ourselves. And it’s just so hard to keep the world in front of us, and the world within us in focus, in balance, in harmony.

We get tired, we get sick, we get weary, we get discouraged, and suddenly the lines all begin to blur and the truth and the un-truth get a little mixed within each other. And the older we get, the more tightly interwoven that can all become if we don’t stop and try to take the step back to try see it, try unravel it, even just a little.

I am enough. You are enough. We are, even though we don’t feel it and don’t allow ourselves to fully recognize or embrace it. It’s just easier to live thinking we are “less than” than to try wade through the mess of finding our own path to enough-ness.

I am not there, but I am aware of it… And while we cannot control our first thoughts that pop into our minds – about anything; those first thoughts about ourselves, those first thoughts about others, those first thought about situations within the moment…

No, we can’t control them. But we can control the next thought, and the ones after that.

We can stop ourselves and try flip it, change it, stop it, redirect it. All things so much easier said than done, this I know. But it’s one of the things I’m trying to consciously work on in this full season of "living" that I'm in right now.

Do you have a goal, a red circle around a certain date on the calendar? Or if not on the calendar on your wall, or in your phone, I’m betting you have one somewhere inside you. And I want to tell you YES – Yes you can. You can! You can do it, meet it, crush whatever goal or dream you have. I believe in you and I want to be your biggest cheerleader.

But you know what, you also don’t have to. You don’t. Or you don’t have to do it by that big red circled date, as long as you are choosing to just try move forward. And forward is forward, no matter the speed.

You are enough just as you are, and you are capable of achieving and doing anything you put your heart and soul into. We all are. We all are a both / and.

We are enough, even when we aren’t all the way there… yet.

Previous blog post { This Little Box of Tissues } HERE

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This Little Box of Tissues

Ok, today I think I'm ready to talk about this little box of tissues.

This box of tissues is almost seven years old and has been under the seat of my car this entire time. It started out in my hands on the longest drive home in a red minivan, then moved to a red escape, and is currently under the seat in my silver escape.

My husband hastily emptied the contents of my red escape before selling it, and I found it sitting on top of the garbage can. My heart gave a small lurch, and I snatched it up. And then my heart gave an even larger contraction as I looked down at it in my hands. That hospital visitor sticker with a room number written on with a sharpie marker looking back at me with its sad and smudged little life.

Every time I see it, I think – throw that damn thing out!
But I cannot. I just can’t.

Truth be told, I’m not even quite sure if I could use them. Maybe for an extreme emergency situation… a bloody nose perhaps with no fast food napkins in sight. In a time of tears, yes, that would probably pass. But a sniffle, a snotless sneeze, ketchup on a finger, probably not.

I will look at you and say – Sorry, we got nothing! Knowing I would carry that lie with me to the line of judgement and confession at the pearly gates when my time comes.

That little box of tissues was on the bedstand beside that damn hospital bed I was in for less than twenty-four hours. A labor and delivery bed, in the labor and delivery wing of the big hospital in the city an hour and a half away from the small town we lived in.

The labor and delivery floor where all the other babies that day were born alive.

But not ours. No, not ours. Before we had even arrived we already knew she was not going to be born alive.

Hours earlier we had gotten the anticipated, yet still unexpected and totally horrible words… “I’m sorry, but there’s no heartbeat.”

We knew at some point it was coming, but we had no idea when. Would it be before full term, would it be during the delivery, would it miraculously be maybe an hour or two after her birth before she would be snatched away into the heavens? The million dollar question that haunted me and kept me from sleeping, kept me from sanity and all normal rational during that entire time of my life.

I heard those words, and as “prepared” as I thought I was, I was not at all prepared, and I was not ready. But I am more than sure NO ONE is prepared or ready when their child is placed into the arms of Jesus.

I’ve written about that moment before in great detail. (Click HERE in case you’re interested in knowing our whole story) and I don’t think right now I’m at a point where I can really go beyond just looking at this box of tissues, and just knowing of its existence beneath me over the last seven years.

I used those tissues when we first arrived as I cried in anger, fear, and utter anguish. I used those tissues during and after delivery. And I would clutch those damn tissues as we walked out of our room after being dismissed, turning down a hallway full of huge massive photos all over the wall of healthy babies. I wasn’t in a wheelchair, I walked. I wasn’t holding a tiny pink newborn tightly wrapped and packed in a car seat. Our baby had gone home earlier with our local funeral home director.

No, I didn’t hold a baby. I held… a freaking box of tissues as I cried the entire way out to our car. And all the way home. And from the hospital, we drove directly to the funeral home.

I would use those tissues a few days later as I drove from our house to the cemetery to say our goodbyes.

And then, I stopped using those tissues, but I knew they were under my seat. I knew they said “Angel Soft” (oh the irony, right?!?!) and I knew they held my husbands visitor sticker from when he left the hospital to get something to eat, because he was not allowed to order anything to our room “before” her birth. And after being told by a doctor we had never met before that we should expect to not deliver until sometime on Sunday (this was Friday night at 5pm) he had left to get something to eat. And you know what, my water broke when he was gone and stuck in line at some Taco Bell… and nothing went as planned after that.

Wait, nothing went as planned for any of it, I do say with a small smile on my face.

No, nothing went as planned. Nothing. Nothing went as we had hoped. Nothing went as we had prayed for… begged for… pleaded for…. ugly cried for.

And yet, for whatever reason, it was exactly as God had planned. #Godisgood #evenif. (Some days are easier than others to type / say / believe these words.)

So now, I watch with a smile and tiny tear as the children’s choir sing up front in our church and think, oh Faith would have been up there, in her pink sparkly dress and shoes, her red hair and blue eyes… but she’s not.

And I’m going to say it’s ok, because it is… but it isn’t. But there is not one thing we can do differently about it, because it was God’s intended plan for her life, and for ours. #aswejourneytofaith

So instead of driving our little one to church early on mornings like this, I simply drive to church with a little box of “Angel Soft” tissues under my seat, a box that’s getting tattered and torn, (kind of how I picture the state of my heart some days) that I can’t bring myself to throw away, because that one little tiny thing was there when our one little tiny girl celebrated her birth day, and it held my hand as we said both hello and goodbye.

Previous Blog Post { Happy New Year from the Cranes, 2021 Year in Review) HERE

Next Blog Post { Yet Another March } HERE

Happy New Year from The Crane's (2021 Year in Review)

To send a Christmas card… to not send a Christmas card…
To blog a Christmas card… to not blog a Christmas card…

I have been going back and forth for a long time, and basically it came down to lack of time and expenses (stamps and printed cards aren’t cheap, sorry friends), and I ended up not getting either option done.

And this was the one year we actually had all the amazing photos to choose from, and all the fun things to share about! So, five days before Christmas I told myself I would order New Year’s Cards and mail them all out at the beginning of the year… but also thinking perhaps ordering Valentine’s Day Cards instead, knowing the trajectory of everything right now.

But here we are… several days post Christmas and suddenly I find myself attempting to write a Christmas Blog post after all. It will be a surprise to all (myself included at this point) to see if this turns into a printed letter in the mail or a published letter on the internet… and will it be Christmas / New Year’s / Valentine’s? Oh the suspense is killing me right now. Lol.

2021 - It was another crazy year here.

Crazy crazy, crazy busy, crazy hard, crazy good. Luckily there was a really heavy layer of the crazy good covering up most of the other crazy pretty well.

I managed to survive a pretty intense virtual race challenge in mid January and would end up dealing with a pretty serious back injury after a week after it, which would take me a good four+ months to recover from. I still have to be really careful what I do, and need to listen better to my body when I need to slow down and rest a bit.

It was a winter full of snow and wedding planning (while either flat on my back in bed or braced up tight in a back brace). I got asked to help make flowers, and cakes, and cut out invites and programs… just to name a few of the fun things!! And, because planning a wedding wasn’t enough to keep them busy, Bailey and Coby also bought an acreage and completely remodeled the entire main floor of an old farmhouse, and set up Bailey’s salvage business on the back side of the property near Germantown, IA. All their families came together to help tear down, tear out, clear out, rebuild, and get things moved and settled. They officially moved in when they returned from their honeymoon in June.

Coby also graduated from college as an RN and began working full time at the Sheldon Hospital during that time as well!

In March Brian and I (and Piper) enjoyed a quick overnight getaway touring the covered bridges and wineries of Winterset, IA, as we celebrated our anniversary by going back to where we had gotten engaged 17 years ago.

In the spring we had lots of bridal showers, and we were busy back at the Round Lake campground. We got to move our camper to a new spot this summer, one with the most amazing sunset views and lots of new neighbors and friends. It took us several weeks to get everything all moved and settled, and we could not have been happier to finally kick up our feet and watch the summer slip by from our aqua Adirondack chairs behind our camper!

In June the big wedding day finally arrived. It was beautiful and so fun! Words can’t even begin to describe it all. We smiled, we laughed, we cried, we ate, we danced, we loved and celebrated the entire day away!

The Canada border remained closed for another summer, so Brian and Isaiah weren’t able to get their trip in, yet again. They did still spend some time off together with their friends at the lake in our camper fishing and making some new memories.

In the fall Isaiah started 8th grade, his last year at the Middle School. He decided to try Cross Country and absolutely loved it. He did really well and enjoyed the motivation and fellowship of the great coaches and teammates. They continue to meet and run together regularly during Run Club.

The fall also brought me a much needed (and long awaited for) new-to-me vehicle, and my first ever car payment… all the good with all the bad. But it was very needed, and the cake-mobile I am now enjoying is a 2012 grey Ford Escape, and I’m trying to figure out how in the world I survived the first 46 years of my life without having had heated seats and a sunroof.

The fall also brought exciting news from the newlyweds… who announced they are unexpectedly expecting… and could not be more excited! It’s been a bit of a rough start for them with much sickness, but we are all eagerly awaiting the arrival of Baby Goebel in early June (perhaps even on the same day as their anniversary!) To say we are excited to get to soon earn the names of Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle is an understatement. We pray diligently and daily for health and God’s provision over this precious little one and its parents!

My parents celebrated their 50th anniversary in June with a large celebration the day after Bailey and Coby’s wedding. And then over Thanksgiving the entire Oldenkamp Clan and Fam packed their tiny carryon suitcases, drove to SD at 2am, to fly out to NC, to rent a suburban, and drive to SC to pick up my brother and family (who moved to SC last summer and started a new Chiropractic business) on our way to Myrtle Beach. It was a whirlwind of miles and laughter and precious moments and memories made together as we celebrated Brian’s birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving, my parents 50th Anniversary, and my nephews birthday (yes, in that order). Oh, and we must not forget to mention several very intense games of live, in the dark, Mafia, in my brothers two story house!

Brian is still using his carpentry talents to create and install beautiful bathrooms, kitchens, custom built-ins, closet systems, shelves, and so much more with Century Cabinets. He still loves fishing (both on soft and frozen water) and hunting. He is busy creating something delicious on the grill and smoker whenever possible, and there is always cheering for the Hawkeyes going on.

Isaiah is still busy with legos, puzzles, Xbox, random fact researching, and the building and taking apart of anything and everything. He plays the baritone in school and made it into the MS Northwest Iowa Honor Band, as well as performing in the local Tuba Christmas concert. We can’t keep up keeping him in pants and shoes that fit due to his never ending growth. He is officially taller than me (by several inches now) and he makes sure to remind me of that whenever possible. He is looking forward to getting back into wresting after Christmas break, and he and I have plans (Lord willing and non-covid granting) to go on the Washington DC middle school trip in the spring.

I am still reading, taking photos, scrapbooking, running, writing, drinking coffee, baking at Sara Crane Cakes part time, art-admin’ing at Staples Promo Products full time, and working several early weekend shifts in the Staples Warehouse.

Piper Joy is still very well loved and very spoiled as she sleeps all day in the sun and gets to travel along with us on nearly all of our adventures. The highlights of her day are getting to manically greet the mailman and any UPS / FedEx deliveries (and I can guarantee that she is much more excited to see them they are are of seeing and hearing her ~LOL) Isaiah also added a new furry friend to the family this year… a white and tan bunny named Muffin. We have been on a specific puppy adoption waiting list for going on two years now for our next family addition, but this year’s litter was again not in our placement destiny… so we will have to see what next year brings.

So, yes it has been a full and busy 2021 for us!

Lots of big things, lots of new things, lots of fun and exciting things, and lots and lots of blessings amid a tough and trying time for the entire world. We are thankful and grateful the Lord was gracious and giving to us all this year, and we look forward to many opportunities, known and unknown, as we soon enter 2022.

Sending big hugs and high fives from our home and family to you and yours!

Merry Christmas – and Happy New Year!!
From the Brian & Sara Crane

Previous blog post { Run Like the Wind Bullseye Challenge } HERE

Next Blog Post { This Little Box of Tissues } HERE

Run Like the Wind Bullseye Challenge

A few Monday’s ago I got up really early (earlier than my normal early) and pushed myself through a self created virtual challenge that I had set for myself months earlier. It was a day off work, but I had several doctor appointments, so I just had to get up early and get it done.

I coined the phrase/ slogan/ tagline/ hashtag (whatever you want to call it) Run Like The Wind Bullseye years and years ago… when I first began my feeble attempt at running. At that time we had a little one in the house that was obsessed with Toy Story, and somehow or other I just started using it in my few and far between social media running related posts.

That brief background being said, fast forward a few years, and I have found myself still attempting to run, and still using #runlikethewindbullseye in my social media posts.

Random tiny story to insert here as well… One of my fondest memories of this phrase was the cold Sunday I was lined up, and corralled in (literally) in downtown DesMoines, IA with thousands and thousands of other runners all standing shoulder to shoulder for blocks upon blocks (yes, most definitely pre-covid!) and a few minutes before the gun would shoot and start the race, I got a text message from my mom with the words – Run like the wind bullseye! It’s one of those things that almost made me cry and will just always be one of those exact memory moments in my mind.

I’ve done a few large in person races in the past. I don’t consider myself an actual runner if I’m honest, and I am one that gets claustrophobic in large groups of people. But there is something about the energy, the thrill, the adenine rush of a live in person race that I did absolutely love…. As time went on and my age got older, my time got slower, and I started running more with friends that did not geographically live near me – I began to also fall in love with virtual races. And the cool thing about virtual races, was that I started to let myself just get creative with them. When I did them, how I trained for them, the distance I did for them, the race day outfits I wore for them, and the swag I earned for them. And then covid swept the world and left any kind of public group running venue shut down until further notice.

So while the world all went inside their homes by themselves, I kinda just kept on keep’n on with my running and my training and my little virtual race ventures in my little home gym I’d been slowly building over the years. (Nope, I am not one for public working out! But, you will find me nearly every morning by myself downstairs getting it done, or attempting to get it done anyway.)

I usually don’t do anything small scale. I usually have to try figure out how to kick it all up a few notches, a few extra miles, a few extra goals, a few extra of everything. And I love love love the creative hunt of putting them all together. The theme, the race details, the training details, the outfits, the mugs, the medals, the race bibs…

I’ve put together quite a few pretty amazing challenges, though I haven’t posted about all of them. Below are just a few I found, if you’re interested

Dream Big Princess Challenge

Unexpected Blessings - Stay Strong
Road to 46 Grit 300 Challenge
Endurance Outside the Box (While Inside the House)
Do It Scared
Not Quite As Planned

So this year I suffered a pretty major back injury, and a continued pandemic, and a son’s wedding, and a parents 50th anniversary and a whole lot of other biggish things that bundled all together that started to take it’s toll on me. Not all things were “bad” by any means – just all things leaving me a bit “weary” let’s say.

I am also one that I am always training for something big, usually with a few littler things mixed in to keep me going, but always always always I make sure I’m training for something – usually in 12 week increments, as that is my favorite half marathon training schedule to follow.

And this fall I decided it was time to create an official Run Like The Wind Bullseye Challenge.

I formatted the whole challenge similar to my Sugar Skull Challenge that I did last October 31 (2020). I did it as a tri-challenge (miles on my elliptical, treadmill, and bike – a total distance without stopping the stopwatch between any of it.). The training also included some weight training goals, monthly overall milage goals, weight loss goals, specific milage marker goals as I went through the training, etc etc etc.

I set all the goals for this new challenge, and added even more things on. Daily meditation requirements, an entire beachbody program requirement (MBF), just all the things. I found the perfect race shirt on ebay, I created the perfect medal from an ornament from poshmark, I allowed myself to order the new zyia leggings to earn to wear on race day, but I never made work really of designing and ordering a mug. (And a mug is something quite pivotal in all my challenges – I allow myself to earn a perfect mug that goes with that race/challenge theme.)

The twelve week training began and continued to tick by week by week. And I was slowly starting to fall behind in my workouts, in my mileages, in my training goal markers. And that weight loss goal I had set – well that was going up and not down. I kept getting further and further away from that goal and more and more frustrated and upset with myself.

The race day was set for the Saturday before we were to jet off as a family to South Carolina to celebrate with my parents and brother’s family for Thanksgiving / Christmas / my parents 50th Anniversary. I was getting overwhelmed by the details of the trip, I was continuing to gain weight, and I was now also working extra hours on Saturday mornings at my job. And I still had made no work of finding a mug.

I finally hit a bit of a breaking point where I knew I had to make a decision. Do I change the race day or do I just try figure something crazy out to still try make it happen?

In the end, after many conversations with the people that attempt to understand how the crazy in my brain operates and attempt to talk me off the ledge… I decided that I needed to extend the training a few more weeks, I needed to design and order a custom mug, and I needed to probably be ok that I simply was not going to meet every single goal I set within this training schedule.

So I looked at the calendar and picked a Monday that I knew was going to still be super tight to try squeeze it all in. Monday, December 13… because 13 happens to be my favorite number.

And that Sunday, the day before, arrived. And I hadn’t met all the mileage goals, was nowhere near the weight goal I’d set, hadn’t even started day one of the beachbody MBF program I put in the training requirements to complete… and I felt like a failure before I had even started the actual race day challenge.

I went to bed. I got up.

I wore the new leggings and shirt and I got myself through 20.6 total miles in 2:54:44. 6.2 miles elliptical. 6.2 miles treadmill. 6.2 miles bike. 2 miles rowing. I had set up all the Toy Story toys we had to be my audience (Woodie, Buzz, Jessie, Slink, Mr Potato Head, Rex… and no, I don’t even own the Bullseye toy oddly enough) I watched the entire Toy Story 2 and 3 movies… and I somehow got it all done. I so wanted to quit multiple times, but I just kept pushing myself, willing my legs to keep going.

I somehow actually got through it all and climbed off the last machine. I took some selfies, and then I went upstairs and I never even said anything about it. I never told my family I’d done it. I never posted anything about it on social media (not that something has to be posted to actually have happened!). I didn’t even allow myself to eat the entire chocolate recovery bar that I only allow myself to have at the end of a half marathon or longer race.

I made it through the actual race challenge, but I didn’t quite get through the entire training challenge I’d set, and I hadn’t met my weight loss goal, so I let myself believe that I was actually a failure and it was not worth telling anyone about it.

I still haven’t allowed myself to even have my first official cup of coffee in my new Run Like The Wind Bullseye mug that I had custom made. I washed the new shirt and leggings and put them in the drawer and have not touched them since. Did I actually earn them all, or did I not? At least that’s what my stupid mind is hissing at me whenever I think about it.

Ok, you know what. I did earn it. I did start the race and I did finished the race. Maybe I didn’t cross off every single box of the three month crazy challenge I created, but I need to give myself the grace to just be ok with that. I did still train and I did still meet most of the challenge criteria, right?

I’m a wife, mom, daughter, friend who works multiple jobs and lives by a set of basically unachievable standards inside my head. I’m not sure how or why or when that lovely little perfection demon came to settle so deeply within me, but perhaps it’s time I simply invite him for a cup of coffee and have a little heart to heart about all this havoc he’s causing me.

And I can think of the perfect mug to use.

#runallthemilesdrinkallthecoffee
#drinkallthecoffeedoallthethings
#runlikethewindbullseye
#motherrunner
#gritgitter

Previous blog post { Word for 2022 - Enough  } HERE

Next blog post { Happy New Year from the Crane's 2021 Year in Review } HERE

Word for 2022 - Enough

Well hello strangers.

My apologies. I have zero excuses as to my silence. I’ve been busy, I’ve been surviving, I’ve been dancing that delicate balance of just “living” these past few days (…months …years)

I really did have some grand intentions to get back on here regularly this summer, but I found I just can’t do it all. I can’t do all the things, so I continued to just let the blog go for a while. And I may continue to let it be for a long time forward, perhaps forever… I don’t honestly know. However, I do love to write, so I’m going to hope that someday I can regularly find my way back here again.

So what brings me here today… Well, in just a few short days is the start of a brand new year. 2021 is nearly over and 2022 is already knocking. And I am in full on survival mode yet from 2020 if I’m totally honest, and as I sit here telling myself I need to start looking ahead, start figuring out my new goals and hopes and plans for 2022, I just find my heart hurting, and my soul shrinking inward even farther than it already is hiding.

I don’t wanna. I do not want to do anything.

I want to stop all the things. I don’t want to work, I don’t want to workout, I don’t want to start or stop or continue anything. I don’t want to run, or walk, or bike, or elliptical, or row, or hit play, or pick up one single weight. I don’t want to cook, or bake, or clean, or help anyone do anything. I don’t even want to read, or write, or scrapbooking at this current moment.

I want to crawl in bed, in the dark, with the electric blanket turned up high, and sleep and lay tucked far far away under all the safety of my blankies, hidden in my very own bedroom..­. Zero responsibilities, zero cares, zero talking, zero doings of anything.

Yup, this is what my current weary mind is whispering to me, taunting me, tantalizing me, tempting me… pulling me inward and begging me to give in to the silence and stillness it so desperately thinks I need. Some of it is truth, but lots of it is the lie of depression and anxiety.

But you know what… in my current forty-six years of living, I also know that if and when I do finally give in, or give out, and comply with the “nothing” my mind is telling me to grant myself, that I know that that same mind won’t allow me to simply just climb in and “be.” I may be able to give my body the rest it needs, but my mind however, is always another story. Again, more of the intricate lacing in my mind that’s woven and braided amid sanity and depression and anxiety.

I know as I would lay there trying to obey the weary whines of my every exhausted muscle and bone, trying to give myself the rest and grace I know it needs, my mind … well my mind will continue to have a mind of it’s own. And I know the longer I would lay, and the longer I would attempt to do nothing but rest and recoup, the louder my mind will start its next set of whispers and lies… the ones telling me that I’m not enough.

That I’m not busy enough, thin enough, strong enough, smart enough, rich enough, bold enough, quiet enough… Not a good enough wife, mom, soon-to-be grandma, daughter, sister, employee, friend, stranger… Get up girl! Do more! Be more! Get more!

LORD HAVE FREAKING MERCY ALREADY!

I’ve spent nearly my entire life in battle with this. I know it merely is what it is, and time and time again I know I need to figure out how to just get over it… and I obviously have not been able to do a very good job at it.

So, as I look to 2022 and wonder – Well, what should I all attempt to do / reach / overcome THIS year?? I just can’t help but want to just attempt to actually do nothing at all. Or at least go in with zero expectations of anything.

No milage goal. No weight goal. No preset races and training schedules. No book reading list. No budget expectations (but not meaning I’m allowing myself to be free to spend and spend – no, just wanting zero expectations on my attempt to NOT spend in my incessant drive to try to save and to justify overworking.).

No goals, no resolutions, no expectations.
Simply allowing whatever to just be enough.

Enough. Such an incredibly power packed word that carries so much weight. Oh that one word really can carry the entire weight of the world inside it can’t it? Enough.

I believe this is the word I will assign to the year 2022. Enough. Although I really have no idea how to simply allow myself (or anyone else if I’m honest) to simply be … enough …. But I don’t think I’m going to even allow myself any more time of contemplation over it right now.

Looking back, some of my recent word of the years have been:
2017 = Less
2018 = Contentment
2019 = Just Be
2020 = Focus
2021 = there was no word, so by default it was basically Survival
2022 = Enough.

And for now, that is going to just be enough.

I shall settle on this word, and settle on the agreement with myself of setting zero anything for myself in 2022, attempting to allow myself to somehow simply be “enough” exactly as I already am.

Maybe I'll figure out how to finally just be enough to me, myself, and I over this next twelve months, and maybe I won't. But I'm going to attempt to allow myself to go into 2022 free and clear of all the things.   (Easier said than do, oh yes I surely know!) Hopefully I'll surprise myself by what I'll all get done and figured out... then again, maybe I honestly won't do a darn single thing and I'll find myself sitting in this exact same place in a year.

Maybe I'll be rested and ready to move mountains in 2023, maybe I'll still be the weary hot mess I've been in, I honestly just don't know. But, I'm going to allow myself to be ok with not knowing and not even trying to figure out how to figure it out right now.

Enough. As I am... where I am... how I am... right now. Enough

Previous blog post {  Three Songs, Three Hours  } HERE

 

Next blog post { Run Like the Wind Bullseye Challenge } HERE