How time flies...

Wow. It has been nearly 3 years (shy by 2 months) since my last post. So why start again? For the therapeutic benefits, I suppose. Therapeutic because I cried myself to sleep last night. I haven't run consistently for probably a year and now I can't run due to injury. I am in physical therapy and yesterday's session finally felt good, like I was actually able to engage the muscle groups the physical therapist wants me to engage. I felt encouraged, thinking there is a light at the end of the tunnel. But then evening came and the pain in my hip skyrocketed. Add to that, the presence of plantar fasciitis in the opposite foot, and I'm realizing that the light at the end of the tunnel is actually an oncoming train. So I cried. I cried for fear of never being about to even walk for exercise, let alone run or bike. I cried that PT is difficult. I cried because of all the times I complained about running. I cried because I didn't stick with running in the first place, I gained weight, and now I can't even see my original square one. There is crying in running, people, at least for me.

So what do you do with a runner who can't run?

It feels like I have lost my identity. How do I define myself if I can't keep the title of "Runner"?

I struggle with this. I define myself based on external factors and not the internal ones. And I feel lost as to how to change that.

So here I am again. Writing into the void that is the interwebs. Not because I expect the answer to come from out there, but rather because I believe the answer lies in me already. I just need to keep searching until I find it.

Differences

My daughter had an interesting back-to-school assignment. She was given the task of relating four events that happened over the summer, but added to that, she had to link it to the past. That is, the past has shaped how, why, and what we can do. For instance, she drew a picture of her road trip to out-of-state and wrote about the development of cars and transportation. She was asking me about one more item to include, to which I suggested babysitting her brother for a couple weeks. "But that's not really linked to a history," she commented. I assured her it was because, although babysitting siblings isn't "new", women in the work force is relatively new. And while both of my grandmothers worked, one as a nurse and the other as a teacher, the work force has really opened up for women in the last century. This is turn has necessitated alternative forms of care for children. She saw my point and completed her assignment.

I was left intrigued. It is quite the thought provoking assignment and I have spent the subsequent days thinking about how our past defines us. How much we can (and should) learn from it to work towards a better future. In particular, I noted this as I lined up for a recent race. I was struck by the variety of people participating. There were people of all sorts of shades of color, with men and women running together. Is this the same country who not too long ago segregated people because they looked different and suppressed women because we are the "gentler sex." It wasn't even that long ago since women were even allowed to compete in races like I enjoy so much. The first woman to run the Boston Marathon was heckled and pushed by fellow runners! The fact that I can enter and run today, was once thought as unheard of. And given the events in this nation in the past summer, inequalities are on our mind and pressing on our nerves. The wrongs of the past have the spotlight on them and accusations are thrown back-and-forth with little confidence in where the truth lies. However, as I lined up in a sea of humanity, I marveled at the beauty of our differences. I love how an activity such as running can be the great equalizer. For a couple hours, we are all human. The differences of our color, our economic standing, or our religious background don't factor in to what we've gathered to do. We all share a common purpose. My hope is that someday my grandchildren will be completing an assignment for school like the one my daughter did and they can truly say, "Remember when differences between people used to be considered bad? Isn't that funny that people would think that?"

Our differences are what make us beautiful.

Happy Running!

Thumbs up

As I began last night's run, I was encouraged by a thumbs up I received from a guy in a passing pickup. I thought, How great is this?! He wants to offer me encouragement! Until I glanced down and looked at my hands. That's right, folks, I run with my thumbs up. Sure, it still could be that he intended to give a friendly "way to go!" but it is also likely that he was responding to my existing thumbs up.

"Hey! How you doin'?!"
"I'm doin' good. How you doin'?"

*sigh*

I suppose, the way I hold my hands whilst running has improved. Following one of my first races my dad informed me that I look like a zombie when I run. Given the opportunity to redo the conversation, I would now respond with, "Don't worry, Dad. Zombies eat brains so you are safe." Because that's the loving daughter that I am... ANYwho, ever since then I've been working on improving my hand form, as well as my form in general. Sure, proper running form is beneficial because it contributes to better running, but my motives are purely vain.

In my mind's eye, I am simultaneously amazing and horrifying when I run. There's something about a good run for me that makes me feel strong and swift and lean. Until I catch a glimpse at the thumbs up or listen to the shuffle in my stride or nearly wipeout on a crack (or flat spot) in the sidewalk. Because running has the odd, conflicting ability to be leave me feeling invincible and humbled. And I would like to capitalize on the take-on-the-world, amazing parts and downplay the rest. 

Or maybe, just maybe, embrace it all. 

The time debate

As found on the Internet, the source of all knowledge and truth:

(She posted after skipping this morning's run.)

Special

Scene... I return home after work yesterday feeling deflated, unimportant, and ignored. My 9-year-old is laying down on the couch, tired from his long afternoon of basketball camp. I ask him if he wants me to snuggle with him. He nods. We whisper quietly to each other...

Me: "You're my favorite boy in the world."

Mr. Man sighs lightly.

Me: "And you can believe me because I know a lot of boys, but you are still my favorite."

Mr. Man smiles now. We cuddle for a few minutes before I start crying quietly.

Mr. Man: "Mommy, what's wrong?"

Me: "I'm just having a day where I don't feel very special, that's all."

Mr. Man, still whispering: "You're my favorite Mommy in the world. I love you Mommy."

We hug more and my tears stream easily now.

Mr. Man: "You are special."

More hugging and more tears.

Maybe it's a lot of me to ask my son to comfort me in that moment, but I think last night's run was a little lighter because he did.

Popcorn Problems

In my journey of accepting myself and embracing me as a sensitive person, I'm also learned how to respond to my entering-fourth-grade son. He is also a sensitive soul. Currently I'm laying down next to him as he recovers from crying and being upset about not knowing there was popcorn on which to snack. In these moments I'm mindful to not tell him simply to "get over it" or belittle him for crying about popcorn. Because sometimes the best thing we can do is acknowledge our feelings and *feel* our feelings. Sometimes being upset about popcorn is okay. I'm thankful that he knows to remove himself to a quiet place. I'm thankful he is comfortable with me to cry and tell me how he's feeling. I'm thankful that I've learned to let him feel what he's feeling in addition to suggesting what we could do differently next time. Feelings are important and should never be dismissed, regardless of how big or little the situation may seem to someone else. 

3rd Annual Grim Mile

Woohoo!

http://luthernorthcollegeprep.org/2015-grim-mile-results/