We take for granted so many things in our daily lives. Breathing normally; living pain-free; walking. Here is another big one: eating. Most people don't think about what they eat. They don't consider how sugars are broken down by enzymes in saliva, that digestion begins before you even take a bite of food. Sometimes food makes a person sick, and that person becomes immediately conscious of what he or she ate, regretting that last chicken wing or week-old soup languishing in the fridge. But generally, food is our friend and we love it.
Recently, in my world, I have been made painfully and frequently aware that an "iron constitution" is a luxury. In about mid-January, my digestion started going goofy. My digestion is always off, so I didn't pay it much mind. But then I traveled to Japan for a ski trip. The food we ate in Japan, on the island of Hokkaido, was amazing and different and so deliciously Japanese. Giant bowls of Ramen; skewers of beef and lamb cooked over a bed of coals directly in front of us; a grilled rice ball, slathered in miso and stuffed with bonito... And quite literally the best fish I have ever had and will probably ever have in my life. We went to one sushi restaurant where the tuna sashimi melted in my mouth. And have you ever tried actual wasabi root? What a crazy experience!
Alas, despite my heart and head loving it, my gut did not approve of all the exotic and international foods I was consuming. During and following our trip, I basically stopped digesting anything properly. My symptoms became progressively worse to the point where I was waking up in the middle of the night with calf cramps so bad my calves were sore for the next few days. That's when I started on the serious electrolyte replacement - it has helped a lot. Don't get dehydrated.
I also realized this: I am lazy. Or jaded or frustrated or over it when it comes to medical issues. But the way I've been feeling, the detrimental effects these GI issues have been having on my body, these things are ridiculous. I want to be able to take eating food for granted again. I want to be able to run for longer than 20 minutes and not be wrecked. I want to be able to ski an entire run without stopping because my lower legs are cramping up again in my boots. So, I am slowly working with a GI doc here, trying to force them to want to figure out why this is happening instead of just prescribing me steroids to "help the inflammation" in my gut.
Ready yourself, here's the moral of this tale: Take Care of Yourself. We are given one life in this incredible world where, for some reason, the sun continues to rise every morning. I can't tell you not to take things for granted, because we all fall into that complacency. But I can implore you not to ignore when something feels off or wrong. We know our bodies better than anyone else, and only we can take the first steps to fixing them. Also, take care of your gut. It is way more important than you probably realize.
I will still be running, even though it isn't as far as I want right now. But I have a crazy trail run scheduled for August and a whole spring and summer full of adventures ahead. It's time to take control of these problems that have been crippling me for so long. Cheers, salud, go live your life and love it! And if you know of a GI doc who is more curious about the cause than the symptoms, let me know.
Sunday, March 8, 2015
Monday, November 24, 2014
Gratitude Circle
Eight and a half months ago, I found myself wearing slacks, a blazer and office-appropriate footwear and entering a building built to accommodate 950 workers, 98% of whom have direct access to natural light. The building is LEED Gold certified; there are a lot of windows. Eight and a half months ago, I took a calculated risk and accepted a position at a company that sounded cool; it seemed like this company made a legitimate difference in the lives of others. The position - an internship - came with no guarantee of full-time employment at the end of six months, and it paid less than what I made as a barista. (Side note: barista-ing was never supposed to be long-term for me. I reluctantly allowed it to turn into a medium-term thing that served as a band-aid for my somewhat directionless mid-twenties.) So, I quit barista-ing, spent two months skiing and looking for a job, took Anatomy & Physiology I, and was offered this intern gig. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and I knew very little about the company where I was about to begin my first sort of official 9-5 something or other.
And yet I took that leap and began a combined Communications/Corporate Social Responsibility internship with DaVita HealthCare Partners because thank Godness an employee on the Communications team thought I was worth their risk, experience be damned.
It is now three days before Thanksgiving, and this morning, we held a gratitude circle in my Monday morning homeroom meeting. Everyone sitting around the table expressed their gratitude for something in their world. "My health;" "my growing family;" "Colorado..." The energy in the room shifted. It changed from "Ugh, Monday morning meeting ugh," to something more positive, more reaffirming. What struck me the most was that all of the individuals in the room and on the phone said they were grateful they worked for this company, that they were a part of this team. I have never seen or been a part of such positivity in a work environment. I forgot to mention that this Gratitude Circle was actually a directive from our CEO, an instruction that every team around the country take some time during their Monday morning meeting this week to reflect on what they were grateful for in their lives. I told you this company sounded cool.
This year has been an absolute whirlwind of emotions and uncertainty and self-doubt and self-confidence and pretty much everything else that could happen short of popping out a baby. There's actually very little likelihood of that happening. But in all seriousness, as of November 10, eight months to the day of my walking into that beautiful, sunny, happy building as an intern, I am officially a full-time employee at DaVita. My position is incredible - I get to work with nonprofits across Denver and coordinate volunteer opportunities and design sponsorships and attend a huge variety of events that celebrate philanthropy in Denver and Colorado.
I am grateful. I am beyond grateful that I am still alive, still kicking and screaming and running and here to greet the Colorado mountains every single morning. That gratitude has been a part of me for a long time, and I know I will never lose it. But I am grateful, now, for this job and this opportunity to grow. I am shocked and awed that it has worked out like this - I work for a healthcare company while serving the nonprofit community in Denver. How freaking sweet is that?
The past eight years of my life have taken me down some crazy paths. It is not possible to predict where your choices will lead you or how certain decisions will shape your future paths and future self. I really have learned, though, that there is nothing more important than being grateful for at least something at any given point in time. Life's circumstances will necessarily change and shift and move in all sorts of unpredictable ways, but it is so important to recognize that there is always something to be grateful about.
I am grateful for life and for right now and for where I came from and wherever tomorrow takes me. How about you; what would you say in a gratitude circle, today?
And yet I took that leap and began a combined Communications/Corporate Social Responsibility internship with DaVita HealthCare Partners because thank Godness an employee on the Communications team thought I was worth their risk, experience be damned.
It is now three days before Thanksgiving, and this morning, we held a gratitude circle in my Monday morning homeroom meeting. Everyone sitting around the table expressed their gratitude for something in their world. "My health;" "my growing family;" "Colorado..." The energy in the room shifted. It changed from "Ugh, Monday morning meeting ugh," to something more positive, more reaffirming. What struck me the most was that all of the individuals in the room and on the phone said they were grateful they worked for this company, that they were a part of this team. I have never seen or been a part of such positivity in a work environment. I forgot to mention that this Gratitude Circle was actually a directive from our CEO, an instruction that every team around the country take some time during their Monday morning meeting this week to reflect on what they were grateful for in their lives. I told you this company sounded cool.
This year has been an absolute whirlwind of emotions and uncertainty and self-doubt and self-confidence and pretty much everything else that could happen short of popping out a baby. There's actually very little likelihood of that happening. But in all seriousness, as of November 10, eight months to the day of my walking into that beautiful, sunny, happy building as an intern, I am officially a full-time employee at DaVita. My position is incredible - I get to work with nonprofits across Denver and coordinate volunteer opportunities and design sponsorships and attend a huge variety of events that celebrate philanthropy in Denver and Colorado.
I am grateful. I am beyond grateful that I am still alive, still kicking and screaming and running and here to greet the Colorado mountains every single morning. That gratitude has been a part of me for a long time, and I know I will never lose it. But I am grateful, now, for this job and this opportunity to grow. I am shocked and awed that it has worked out like this - I work for a healthcare company while serving the nonprofit community in Denver. How freaking sweet is that?
The past eight years of my life have taken me down some crazy paths. It is not possible to predict where your choices will lead you or how certain decisions will shape your future paths and future self. I really have learned, though, that there is nothing more important than being grateful for at least something at any given point in time. Life's circumstances will necessarily change and shift and move in all sorts of unpredictable ways, but it is so important to recognize that there is always something to be grateful about.
I am grateful for life and for right now and for where I came from and wherever tomorrow takes me. How about you; what would you say in a gratitude circle, today?
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Turn up the bass
When last did you do something with utter abandon? Anything! Run, play, laugh, cry, love with abandon? Danced like you're wearing jazz pants from eighth grade and you're home alone and what do you care if you're bothering the neighbors? You're just dancing, hair flying all around, spinning chaînés around the chairs and tables in the living room and then the beat drops and you drop into a split you can still just about do... When I was a kid and into highschool, I used to dance around in my bedroom, utterly uninhibited. Mostly, I'd just practice pirouettes and the splits and whatever I could fit into my small, square room. But I would dance so hard - I can remember collapsing into my giant green papasan chair, out of breath and laughing and loving the fact that my body moves like that, can move to music and for a few brief minutes, absolutely nothing else matters.
I was never a great dancer; I was always a little chunky and off-balance. I loved ballet, envied the grace and ethereal beauty of prima ballerinas, such that I even danced en pointe in high school. But I was better at jazz and lyrical, and my favorite was jazz a la Bob Fosse: sexy, deliberate, each movement loaded with meaning and feeling. More of my personality came through when I was onstage than perhaps when I wasn't.
And then what? Life changed everything, took me in an utterly unimaginable different direction. I haven't danced with any instruction in over seven years, haven't danced on a stage in almost nine. I'm not even that old! How does one's life change so abruptly that everything you thought made you "You" just fades away?
Perhaps, though, that isn't quite true, either. I no longer perform, but that doesn't mean I don't still want to. I am less goofy but more joyful. And tonight, dancing by myself in my living room, I was reminded just how amazing it feels to let go.
Life should be less about the things that stress us out, the daily wear and tear that brings us down. Jobs, the weather, our relationships or lack thereof - we put so much emphasis on certain things and expect them to fulfill us. Shouldn't life be more about dancing and laughing and enjoying the moments you have with people you love? I think so, and I am going to try and embrace that sentiment once more, and dance, once more. So, please, go blast your music and let your endorphins and inner child dance freely for a few minutes. And have fun!
I was never a great dancer; I was always a little chunky and off-balance. I loved ballet, envied the grace and ethereal beauty of prima ballerinas, such that I even danced en pointe in high school. But I was better at jazz and lyrical, and my favorite was jazz a la Bob Fosse: sexy, deliberate, each movement loaded with meaning and feeling. More of my personality came through when I was onstage than perhaps when I wasn't.
And then what? Life changed everything, took me in an utterly unimaginable different direction. I haven't danced with any instruction in over seven years, haven't danced on a stage in almost nine. I'm not even that old! How does one's life change so abruptly that everything you thought made you "You" just fades away?
Perhaps, though, that isn't quite true, either. I no longer perform, but that doesn't mean I don't still want to. I am less goofy but more joyful. And tonight, dancing by myself in my living room, I was reminded just how amazing it feels to let go.
Life should be less about the things that stress us out, the daily wear and tear that brings us down. Jobs, the weather, our relationships or lack thereof - we put so much emphasis on certain things and expect them to fulfill us. Shouldn't life be more about dancing and laughing and enjoying the moments you have with people you love? I think so, and I am going to try and embrace that sentiment once more, and dance, once more. So, please, go blast your music and let your endorphins and inner child dance freely for a few minutes. And have fun!
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
January "reset" button
How many times can a person stop and start running again? I've probably taken more extended breaks from running than any other person who runs. Yet, I persist in considering myself a runner. Mostly because when I don't run, especially for an extended period of time, I start losing my marbles. Anxiety kicks in, sleeplessness, an overwhelming urge to eat nothing but cereal and ice cream. It appears that I am one of those people whose moods can be regulated by frequent, consistent exercise. It is fascinating how our bodies respond to exercise. If you don't believe that exercising can make you feel better, take a look at me. I'm not even talking about Working Out, but even just walking around the lake down the block or getting outside to do Anything for some period of time. There must be some physiological reason why our bodies respond so well to being outside or elevating our heart rate a bit. I feel considerably better about myself and life in general when I've spent lots of time outside and enough time of it running around.
It's interesting how we have evolved from hunter-gatherers into mostly sedentary folk. Still, though, when we do elevate our heart rates, a whole slew of chemical reactions happen, not the least of which is the release of endorphins, those happy little chemicals that make Us happy. Or at least feel better for a little while.
So, I went for my 30-minute run today, did some planks, wall sits, 6 pull ups, and I feel better. And I feel like I'm starting this whole game over again. Struggling to breathe through a 3-mile run... It does get easier with time; I've done this enough times to know that. But it's still hard restarting. It's still something I am going to keep doing though, pushing through until it's easier, until I can run 6, 13, 26.2 miles once more. Here we go! And did I mention the 6 pull-ups? I think so. Cheers!
It's interesting how we have evolved from hunter-gatherers into mostly sedentary folk. Still, though, when we do elevate our heart rates, a whole slew of chemical reactions happen, not the least of which is the release of endorphins, those happy little chemicals that make Us happy. Or at least feel better for a little while.
So, I went for my 30-minute run today, did some planks, wall sits, 6 pull ups, and I feel better. And I feel like I'm starting this whole game over again. Struggling to breathe through a 3-mile run... It does get easier with time; I've done this enough times to know that. But it's still hard restarting. It's still something I am going to keep doing though, pushing through until it's easier, until I can run 6, 13, 26.2 miles once more. Here we go! And did I mention the 6 pull-ups? I think so. Cheers!
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
And... I'm back again
On a grey, unsettled, chilly January day in Denver, I have retreated to an eclectic coffeeshop with the students, the self-employed, the unemployed, the musicians, the artists. And me, falling somewhere in the middle of it all. I remain undefined while consuming some of the best tomato/spinach soup I have ever had, all creamy and tomato-y and cheesy without having any actual cheese in it. I am scalding my tongue and the roof of my mouth, thanks to a nice barista who seems to be chronically undercharging me. Maybe I already look destitute, in my mismatched pink and navy flannel shirt and fleecy purple plaid scarf and jeans ripped clear across the knee. I'm pretty sure no one ever has paid only $8.35 for soup, a large almond milk chai, and a giant chocolate chip cookie (Giant). The price is still boggling my mind. Don't worry, I tipped my newfound best friend.
As of January 10, I am fully and so weirdly unemployed. In the middle of November, my boyfriend and I took a week-long trip to Virginia to visit family, and I decided I couldn't come back to Denver and continue working at Starbucks. I was done; it was time. The Philadelphia Marathon came and went, and it didn't include me. I spent September and October fighting a sickness I couldn't shake until finally, a week before the Marathon, I crumbled, called in the antibiotics, and called off this marathon I was supposed to have been training for. Who knows if there's a correlation, but my training started suffering and my health started failing right around the time I started opening at Starbucks consistently. Opening, for me, meant falling out of bed around 4 a.m. to bike 3 miles to work by 5 a.m., including a few sub-zero mornings. School, caffeine, fatigue, constant coughing or sniffling or "coming down with something..." I couldn't do it. My body paid a wicked price, and I wasn't able to join my friend in her very first, amazing marathon. My boyfriend and I are still dealing with the after-effects of the prednisone the doctors put me on for a second time this year.
So here I am, sitting in a coffee shop, worrying about health care come February 1, sipping chai, not yet doing anything to find employment. I have skiied a lot and all over since leaving the Bucks - Copper Mountain, Winter Park, Berthoud Pass, A-Basin, Steamboat Springs, an impromtu, ridiculous weekend trip to Jackson Hole this past weekend. Needless to say, I'm ripped, now. (Sort of kidding, but no, not really kidding.) Skiing is a whole lot different from running, especially the slow, long runs I'm used to. Skiing is short, intense, and quad-thrashing. Ski in powder, and it becomes all of those things amplified plus the sensation of floating down the mountain in silence. There were a few runs I found myself alone in trees, snow sparkles drifting all around while the lower sun illuminated my life, and the lactic acid disappeared, and the heavy powder disappeared, and the wrench in my knee disappeared, and it was just me, floating in a forest of crystals and sun beams.
I have learned and believe that nothing lasts and everything changes. Life, changes, and you can help it change how you'd like it to; you can adapt to the changes; or you can drift along and watch everything shift and grow and die around you and remain encapsulated in whatever bubble you've created of fear and comfort. I've been doing the latter for over 4 years, although I started tearing down my bubble and finding my footing when I moved to Denver on a whim and a prayer. Now, it's time to kickstart my life, to jump in and make my own changes. To finally embrace everything I am and the person I am growing into. I am so many things, and while I was a barista for a while, I want to be so much more. 2013 sucked pretty badly in my world. So, okay, time to make a giant change. Time to ski and run and sip chai and eat delicious, gluten-y cookies and heal. It is time to Live. Here we go!
I have learned and believe that nothing lasts and everything changes. Life, changes, and you can help it change how you'd like it to; you can adapt to the changes; or you can drift along and watch everything shift and grow and die around you and remain encapsulated in whatever bubble you've created of fear and comfort. I've been doing the latter for over 4 years, although I started tearing down my bubble and finding my footing when I moved to Denver on a whim and a prayer. Now, it's time to kickstart my life, to jump in and make my own changes. To finally embrace everything I am and the person I am growing into. I am so many things, and while I was a barista for a while, I want to be so much more. 2013 sucked pretty badly in my world. So, okay, time to make a giant change. Time to ski and run and sip chai and eat delicious, gluten-y cookies and heal. It is time to Live. Here we go!
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
How to be a bad-a**
Wake up every day with some kind of a smile; bike to work; try to maintain that smile despite inexplicably entitled and disgruntled customers; laugh with your coworkers; make your coworkers laugh; make a customer laugh; smile at the sunset; bike home; run 3-5 miles after an 8-hour day on your feet; make something delicious and kale-based for dinner; sleep like you live a gratifying life. Repeat.
How to be a bad-a** cancer survivor: do all the above while ignoring constant sinus infections, interminable GI distress, chronic fatigue from B-vitamin deficiencies. Most importantly, live every day and appreciate every day for its very existence.
As part of our lives, we encounter setbacks - some small, some more significant, but always, something that gives us pause. There are always situations and events that cause us to reevaluate our outlook and our approach to living. I have been sick for So Long. Without fail, just when I think I've kicked the immune deficiencies, that I am fully embracing my potential badassery, I regress. Just over five weeks ago, I ran 10 miles. I crushed 10 miles, running. Training for the Philadelphia Marathon, I felt so incredibly powerful, invincible once more. Two days later, my friends and I hiked La Plata Peak in Colorado's Sawatch Range. It was a burly hike, at roughly 7 miles round trip and 3400 ft. of elevation gain. There were sections I felt we were climbing practically vertically. Not really, but it was a stiff hike. Despite leaving the trailhead at 10:30 a.m., we powered through those 7 miles and made it back to the car just as the hail began to fall, around 5 p.m. We were all aware that attempting a 14-er that late in the day was a dangerous endeavor, and I consider us lucky that we avoided any crazy weather when the clouds were building all around us. But we did it! Crushed this mountain, and the next day, my appropriately crazy boyfriend and I did a bit of off-roading leading to a little trail we could have potentially followed to the top of another 14-er. We decided not to go through with the full hike, as it was even later in the day and still pretty sketchy weather. But he and I did do the first portion of the hike: roughly 1/2 mile and 1000 ft. vertical. Once again, incredibly steep. It was rough. The weekend was hard on both of us. But being as bad-a** as we are, we conquered mountains.
Following our outdoorsy extravaganza, both my boyfriend and I got sick. So much for invincibility. Now, five weeks later, he is recovering well, and my body has pretty much just stayed in this sickness trough. My marathon training has stagnated. There is a constant party in my gut. Not the awesome, aww yeah, we're having a great time! party, but the one where the frat house across the street is Blasting dubstep at 3 a.m. and drunk co-eds are shrieking in the streets while brahs exchange barbs and blows after way too much Natty Light. Nobody's happy, and nobody's sleeping.
I don't feel like a bad ass right now. I feel like a half-ass, and it is bothering me to no end. I was rejected from yet another job I should have been qualified for, rejected with absolutely nothing to go on besides they went with a candidate with "more experience." Period. Frustrating! These setbacks are incredibly frustrating.
I can't help but feel that I will be confined to a coffee shop forever, slinging lattes and grin-acing through the day, not actually helping anyone or living up to whatever potential I might have to be an influential member of society. I can't help but wonder if I will ever be able to train for a marathon or an ultramarathon and remain injury or sickness free, if it is even possible for me to conquer each and every mile.
I am pushing through every day. Pushing through because I love each and every day. I love that I can run, even if just a little bit, that I can make people laugh and laugh, myself, easily at so many things. My life does not have any more setbacks than anyone else's, in particular. Maybe some people have it easier... There are those who can straight up run marathons without training any substantial amount. Others have the right connections and social aptitude to have a fulfilling, engaging career. I know these individuals exist, though I can't help wondering if they truthfully smile at every sunrise, laugh uninhibitedly at the sheer, glorious magnitude of this world's beauty... Do they even know how lucky we are? We are Alive.
While I am disheartened, frustrated and upset that parts of my life are not what I wish they were, I am Overjoyed every, single freaking day that I am still here, that I am still lucky enough to live in love with life and the wonderful people in my life in this beautiful world. And physically, sure, I have a ways to go, but my perspective makes me a Bad Ass. Nothing will take that away from me; nobody's rejection can tamp my appreciation for cheese and cider and being outside surrounded by Awesome.
Setbacks, road blocks, giant, gaping dilemmas with seemingly no resolution - these things do not a Bad Ass break. Keep moving forward, keep laughing despite it all. There are always the little things, and maybe, just maybe, someday, the big things will work out positively. Meantime, I guess it's just going to be another slow marathon and a few more lattes to sling.
Thanks for checking in, checking back. What makes You a Bad Ass?
How to be a bad-a** cancer survivor: do all the above while ignoring constant sinus infections, interminable GI distress, chronic fatigue from B-vitamin deficiencies. Most importantly, live every day and appreciate every day for its very existence.
As part of our lives, we encounter setbacks - some small, some more significant, but always, something that gives us pause. There are always situations and events that cause us to reevaluate our outlook and our approach to living. I have been sick for So Long. Without fail, just when I think I've kicked the immune deficiencies, that I am fully embracing my potential badassery, I regress. Just over five weeks ago, I ran 10 miles. I crushed 10 miles, running. Training for the Philadelphia Marathon, I felt so incredibly powerful, invincible once more. Two days later, my friends and I hiked La Plata Peak in Colorado's Sawatch Range. It was a burly hike, at roughly 7 miles round trip and 3400 ft. of elevation gain. There were sections I felt we were climbing practically vertically. Not really, but it was a stiff hike. Despite leaving the trailhead at 10:30 a.m., we powered through those 7 miles and made it back to the car just as the hail began to fall, around 5 p.m. We were all aware that attempting a 14-er that late in the day was a dangerous endeavor, and I consider us lucky that we avoided any crazy weather when the clouds were building all around us. But we did it! Crushed this mountain, and the next day, my appropriately crazy boyfriend and I did a bit of off-roading leading to a little trail we could have potentially followed to the top of another 14-er. We decided not to go through with the full hike, as it was even later in the day and still pretty sketchy weather. But he and I did do the first portion of the hike: roughly 1/2 mile and 1000 ft. vertical. Once again, incredibly steep. It was rough. The weekend was hard on both of us. But being as bad-a** as we are, we conquered mountains.
Following our outdoorsy extravaganza, both my boyfriend and I got sick. So much for invincibility. Now, five weeks later, he is recovering well, and my body has pretty much just stayed in this sickness trough. My marathon training has stagnated. There is a constant party in my gut. Not the awesome, aww yeah, we're having a great time! party, but the one where the frat house across the street is Blasting dubstep at 3 a.m. and drunk co-eds are shrieking in the streets while brahs exchange barbs and blows after way too much Natty Light. Nobody's happy, and nobody's sleeping.
I don't feel like a bad ass right now. I feel like a half-ass, and it is bothering me to no end. I was rejected from yet another job I should have been qualified for, rejected with absolutely nothing to go on besides they went with a candidate with "more experience." Period. Frustrating! These setbacks are incredibly frustrating.
I can't help but feel that I will be confined to a coffee shop forever, slinging lattes and grin-acing through the day, not actually helping anyone or living up to whatever potential I might have to be an influential member of society. I can't help but wonder if I will ever be able to train for a marathon or an ultramarathon and remain injury or sickness free, if it is even possible for me to conquer each and every mile.
I am pushing through every day. Pushing through because I love each and every day. I love that I can run, even if just a little bit, that I can make people laugh and laugh, myself, easily at so many things. My life does not have any more setbacks than anyone else's, in particular. Maybe some people have it easier... There are those who can straight up run marathons without training any substantial amount. Others have the right connections and social aptitude to have a fulfilling, engaging career. I know these individuals exist, though I can't help wondering if they truthfully smile at every sunrise, laugh uninhibitedly at the sheer, glorious magnitude of this world's beauty... Do they even know how lucky we are? We are Alive.
While I am disheartened, frustrated and upset that parts of my life are not what I wish they were, I am Overjoyed every, single freaking day that I am still here, that I am still lucky enough to live in love with life and the wonderful people in my life in this beautiful world. And physically, sure, I have a ways to go, but my perspective makes me a Bad Ass. Nothing will take that away from me; nobody's rejection can tamp my appreciation for cheese and cider and being outside surrounded by Awesome.
Setbacks, road blocks, giant, gaping dilemmas with seemingly no resolution - these things do not a Bad Ass break. Keep moving forward, keep laughing despite it all. There are always the little things, and maybe, just maybe, someday, the big things will work out positively. Meantime, I guess it's just going to be another slow marathon and a few more lattes to sling.
Thanks for checking in, checking back. What makes You a Bad Ass?
Friday, June 14, 2013
Oh, HAI!!
Dear Blawg,
I haven't forgotten about you. The past four months have just been a whirlwind of crazy and not enough running thrown in to make posting terribly worthwhile. I have thought about things I would write: how my body keeps alternating between healthy and not quite; how every so often I would run and remember how much I loved it but it was still winter and I wasn't mentally or physically ready; how Denver received more snow in March, April and May (?!) than the rest of the winter; how I moved in with my love and got straight As in the classes I took this semester. So far, this year has been all kinds of ridiculous and not at all easy.
But that is all for another post, perhaps, or maybe I'll just keep most of it to myself and my journals. This post is about the fact that within the past 20 minutes, I found myself registering for my Third marathon. This time, it is the Philadelphia Marathon. Come mid-November, I will be in Philadelphia, running with a woman and friend who invited me to do this and who inspires me on a daily basis. I am going to do this race for so many reasons, again, which I will save for another post. For now though, I just want to say that I am terrified and beyond excited and eager to begin training and blogging once more.
Writing is one of the greatest catharses in my life, as is running. It makes all too much sense to me to combine both in one epic quest for enlightenment. Or peace. Or a better finishing time. All of those things! This marathon and training will be unlike either before it: I am working on being So Healthy! So, tune in and stop back because I'll be updating my medical adventures and running adventures and school and goals and maybe some recipes and Everything awesome in my life, along with the struggles that keep us real.
Thanks for hanging around. Here's to believing in ourselves and making lofty goals realities!
Running (a lot) more. Thinking less. Loving it all, so much.
I haven't forgotten about you. The past four months have just been a whirlwind of crazy and not enough running thrown in to make posting terribly worthwhile. I have thought about things I would write: how my body keeps alternating between healthy and not quite; how every so often I would run and remember how much I loved it but it was still winter and I wasn't mentally or physically ready; how Denver received more snow in March, April and May (?!) than the rest of the winter; how I moved in with my love and got straight As in the classes I took this semester. So far, this year has been all kinds of ridiculous and not at all easy.
But that is all for another post, perhaps, or maybe I'll just keep most of it to myself and my journals. This post is about the fact that within the past 20 minutes, I found myself registering for my Third marathon. This time, it is the Philadelphia Marathon. Come mid-November, I will be in Philadelphia, running with a woman and friend who invited me to do this and who inspires me on a daily basis. I am going to do this race for so many reasons, again, which I will save for another post. For now though, I just want to say that I am terrified and beyond excited and eager to begin training and blogging once more.
Writing is one of the greatest catharses in my life, as is running. It makes all too much sense to me to combine both in one epic quest for enlightenment. Or peace. Or a better finishing time. All of those things! This marathon and training will be unlike either before it: I am working on being So Healthy! So, tune in and stop back because I'll be updating my medical adventures and running adventures and school and goals and maybe some recipes and Everything awesome in my life, along with the struggles that keep us real.
Thanks for hanging around. Here's to believing in ourselves and making lofty goals realities!
Running (a lot) more. Thinking less. Loving it all, so much.
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