running

late last year, i made a conscious decision to start working out more regularly. exercising was something i did consistently before Jarronn died, and i knew that 2+ years was way too long to have gone without physical activity. my body was showing me signs as well -- all those pounds lost during days when i couldn't eat back in 2009 had slowly made their way back to my love handles and other undesirable places. a good sign of a recovered appetite, yes. but bad news when it came to wanting to wear everything in my closet.

so i had to get going.

i started running. not with the goal of completing any major races (although being prepared for the wrtc 5k was a good bonus). but i just wanted to work myself up to a place where i knew i could run 3-4 miles consistently, whenever i felt like it.

the thing about running is that most people who know me will tell you i'm not too fond of it. i'm all for running as part of sports activity. but just running to run? that has never gotten me excited. all the stuff about clearing your mind, it being addictive, and the great reward at the end....ummm, not really feeling it.

i had several friends recommend i listen to music while i ran. this seemed like a good idea, in theory. i love music. it often motivates me as i work. seems like it might motivate me to run as well.

but the truth is, it's a horrible idea.

in running more, i learned that listening to music while running just isn't for me. why? because with every song that plays, i anticipate the ending and how the ending equates to time passed. with every song that ends, i create a tally, figuring that if say four songs have played, i've probably been running for about 14 minutes. which means i have somewhere around 20 more to go. which means i'm not even halfway done! and my mind starts imagining those next 20 minutes. the sweat, the potential cramp, the fatigue. the experience soon becomes pretty miserable. even songs i've always loved suddenly seem way too long and unbearable. ("do you really need to sing the chorus a third time?!")

but when running without music, things are much better. without music, i listen to the sound of my breath. of my living. i don't focus so much on how much further i need to go. i just put one foot in front of the other. and keep going.

kind of like taking it one day at a time.

not anticipating how much longer you have to endure something. not asking if you're through the first quarter or halfway point? not imposing your own impressions of how long something should take. just moving. breathing. step. by. step.

because sometimes, the anticipation of when it will all be over makes the process much, much worse. anticipating the potential for hardship down the road and prematurely trying to prepare can make you want to slow your pace or quit before even getting there. better to just focus on the task at hand -- the next step. and those steps do add up into minutes and miles and moments and milestones.

do i now say i like running?

ummm, nope!

but i do like what it's taught me.

alright

"everything will be alright" is not the same as "everything will stay the same."
      - seth godin (a blogger i tend to not be able to get enough of)

i wish these two phrases could be guaranteed in the same breath. but, alas, they typically can't. that can be hard to grasp, and it might take some real intention and work on our parts to come to grips with it. because when we get comfortable with a state, we tend to have a hard time imagining how something different could, in fact, also be alright.

what's nice about the first part of the phrase is that it comes with a bit more assuredness. everything really will be alright if we open ourselves to it.

but that "stay the same" concept is pretty tricky and pretty impossible. things change. things keep moving forward around us, whether we like it or not. people change their minds, change their addresses, and even change from earthly beings into something we can't fully understand.

it's different. it's hard.

but again...

everything. will. be. alright.

moneyball

so this past sunday was oscar night, and while one movie came away empty-handed in all of its nominated categories, it still has a special place in my heart.

moneyball.

the baseball movie, with brad pitt. based on the true story of the oakland a's and their general manager's attempt to "change the game."

getting to australia was no short trip. (six hours from dc to san francisco and another 14 hours from san francisco to sydney). so i got to watch a lot of movies. moneyball happened to be shown on two legs of my trip. and i watched it twice. not just out of boredom, but because i really liked it.

at one point in the movie, billy beane (brad pitt) is with his daughter, and she plays him a song on her guitar. she has a beautiful voice, and it's a wonderful portrayal of a sweet moment between an encouraging, loving father and a talented, but unsure daughter (in fact, the look on brad pitt's face during minute 1:37-1:42 really gets me).

the movie introduced me to the song, which is performed by an artist named lenka. and the lyrics made me love the song, which does a great job capturing a lot of what i often feel.

here's a clip from the movie....



i'm just a little bit caught in the middle
life is a maze, and love is a riddle
i don't know where to go
can't do it alone, i've tried
and i don't know why

i am just a little girl lost in the moment
i'm so scared, but i don't show it
i can't figure it out
it's bringing me down, i know
i've got to let it go
and just enjoy the show

new experiences

though it may not seem like it, i'm still here.

it's certainly been awhile, and it seems that whenever a lengthy time has passed since my last post, i feel like the post that brings me back should be pretty significant. but i've realized that kind of thinking tends to keep me away. so i've made up my mind that even if it's not that exciting, or if it sounds like the same sad tune, i'm going get things out here. after all, writing here has helped me make it to this point -- a place i think is considerably good -- and i don't want to stop my progress now.

so what has been going on in the last few months?

i've been working hard at my business (something i haven't talked much about here, but i will in the future).

i took an amazing trip to australiaaaa (say it in your best oprah winfrey voice, please). with need for only one window seat. my two weeks there were wonderful for lots of reasons. for the beautiful views. for the chances to meet new people. for the new experience of traveling on my own. for the books i got to read (johnathan livingston seagull, by richard bach. the help, by kathryn stockett. me talk pretty one day, by david sedaris. and mere christianity, by c.s. lewis). for the time i was afforded to reflect and process.

i learned lots of things about myself and life in those two weeks. things i'll likely share here. the first that comes to mind and that i'll share today...new experiences help you move forward.

i've known this for awhile actually. but taking on the new experience of traveling half-way around the world by myself definitely reinforced the lesson. when we experience loss, we want to hold onto the past. that's natural, and it makes sense. but living through past experiences can never fully compare to living a fully present life. when i lost Jarronn, a lot of things crumbled. a sense of identify. a sense of security. dreams for the future. if i'd spent the last 2.5 years only reliving my experiences with Jarronn, i'd be stuck in the same place, reflecting on what i don't have and can't get back. thankfully, i've been able to create new amazing experiences and memories that i reflect on with just as much appreciation.

people often comment on how i'm always going somewhere, or always staying busy. i find these kinds of comments amusing, because i don't think people understand how much it's out of necessity. the need to move forward and look forward to living.

on being strong

a lot of people tell me i'm strong. i don't feel strong. crying myself to sleep doesn't feel strong. tossing and turning all night doesn't feel strong. wailing in the bathroom doesn't feel strong. feeling like i can't go on 25 times each day does not feel strong.

i guess people try to imagine themselves in my shoes and can't comprehend it. they think of how they'd react. but if you had asked me on july 29 how i would deal with something like this, i wouldn't have been able to comprehend it either. the point is, none of us really know how much we can take until we are confronted with the challenging situations of life. and generally, each of us can handle a lot more than we think.

if people want to draw strength from me, that's good. but being strong/staying strong/standing strong is not my objective right now. right now i'm just trying to keep living. to push myself out of bed in the morning. to make sense of life now that my hopes and dreams have been ripped away. to literally take it one day at a time, if not one moment at a time. because that's really all i have strength for.

now if you want to see strong, check out the big man in the red plaid shirt below.