tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47064147512508526992024-03-13T09:15:53.052-04:00Inspiring Others to HealthJust a girl who decided to go for it, lost weight, gained some back, discovered her true self, and began loving life. This is my little way of helping others achieve a healthier, happier lifestyle.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.comBlogger86125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-57700075734928170822017-09-24T18:47:00.001-04:002017-09-24T19:06:47.920-04:00Find your greatness<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Have you ever attended something you think is going to be ordinary and when you are done, you cannot believe what just happened? I had this type of experience yesterday... an ordinary adventure turned exceptional after a few simple words were uttered.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">FIND. YOUR. GREATNESS.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was a normal Saturday. I got up earlier than I wanted to, I ran farther than I wanted to (let's be honest... any distance at this point is farther than I want, that darned half marathon training plan haha...), and I hung out at home and relaxed for a bit. My kids and I then had plans to attend an event sponsored by our church. The two younger ones had invited friends along for the afternoon, so I reluctantly got ready, packed up the car and left to start the carpool service. It wasn't that I didn't want to go, really. Yesterday was just a hard day. If you know me or have read any of my previous posts, you are probably aware that I struggle with mental illnesses and a not-so-stellar past. I hit patches of time in my life where I can't seem to "get it together" even though that is often the advice I hear from acquaintances who just don't understand my history. It wasn't that I didn't want to go... I just didn't have much energy to put into the event or the activities we would be doing. And as a chaperone, I wasn't even certain what my responsibilities would include.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When we arrived at the venue, I kept thinking how much my body was hurting from my morning run, how much I would rather be at home, the fact that I didn't see my husband yesterday with his work schedule and how if I were at home, I might be able to sneak upstairs and see him for a second before he left again for work. We got out of the car and greeted our friends from church, waiting for a few minutes before the activities were to start. And then we began with a prayer and a small talk by one of our hosts, Ken. He asked the kids to name two people that they admired as well as writing down what they wanted to be when they grew up. After a few minutes, the kids turned in their papers and he read us the answers. Then he asked them why they had chosen the names they had written down. Most of the kids responded that it was because of something the person did or made the kids feel about themselves.... "Michael Jordan has this and that record," or "My mom always believes in me when I don't think I can do it." He discussed the fact that all of the names written down had one thing in common. <b><u>Greatness</u></b>. They each had their own greatness that the kids were able to recognize and identify with. And then he said these words, "Find your greatness." Ouch. Eww. What? Me?!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Earlier in the day after my run, I had analyzed everything about it from distance to pace, effort to mood, the terrain, even my heart rate. For the better part of a year, I have been striving to get back to running. Yes, I run. But it <u>never</u> feels good enough. I have not been able to get back to my previous pace or weight, and each day just feels like more of a failure in my own eyes. When Ken said, "Find your greatness," I really just wanted to go home. "I'm not great at anything," the internal monologue began. "Nothing I do is worthy of recognition or medals."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The definition of greatness according to Merriam-Webster is simply<span class="ssens"> "exceptionally high quality."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="ssens">It does <b>not</b> say you have to be first. No where does it state that greatness requires you to be the smartest. Or the strongest, fastest or the best. And while I agree with that definition, I want to add that maybe "exceptionally high quality" might not be the only way to describe greatness.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="ssens">What if greatness really means how you lead others to be great? What do you do to help other people find their own greatness? We don't all have the same skill sets. Gosh, that would be boring! But we are certainly <b>all</b> called to something bigger and better than ourselves in this world, right? We are taught to always strive to be more... I just think maybe we have missed the boat on this one. Greatness isn't about being the most talented basketball or football player (if you are, keep going, that's not what I'm saying). It's not about having the highest IQ in the country or getting the most movie roles before you turn 30 or seeing your name published in TIME magazine's 100 Most Significant People in History. I actually think it is SO MUCH MORE.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="ssens">Being great requires us to CHOOSE to live in greatness every day. We must believe in ourselves and what we are capable of, as well as strive to bring others along on the journey with us. Again, I'm not the fastest runner. I will never qualify for the Boston Marathon. At this point, I doubt I'll win any more medals or beat any of my previous PRs (personal records). However, as long as I keep showing up, especially on the days I don't want to, as long as I continue fighting the voice in my head that tells me I suck, I believe I am leading someone else to find their stamina, their strength, their greatness. I hope I am encouraging them not to give up when life gets hard and $hit gets real and it feels like everything is against them. I think THAT is greatness. I think THAT is what I am called to be and do in this life.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="ssens">Our evening was incredible yesterday. We learned some MMA fighting including self-defense, we ran around and laughed, we cried, we ate, we prayed and we learned. After several hours of fun, the kids didn't want to leave. They had enjoyed themselves so much, they didn't even realize they had been learning. And neither did I... until I got home last night. The phrase "find your greatness" kept echoing in my head. I talked to my mom this morning about all of the things that were swirling around in my mind, the things I have shared here. I wrote furiously before church this morning to make sure I wouldn't forget any of them. Yet it still doesn't feel like enough. I want to hold on to your shoulders and look you in the eye and tell you to FIND YOUR GREATNESS, then hug you and tell you that you are worthy and loved and capable of so much more than you know. Maybe that's why I blog... to tell myself the things that *I* need to hear, in a more concrete way. In a few months, I will go back to this post and read it and think, "Huh, that was pretty good," just like I have done with other things I have written. I hope you will, too.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="ssens">Whatever greatness YOU have been designed for, maybe the one that fills your heart or the one that God has chosen for you (maybe you have yet to experience it), may it bring you peace and fulfillment. May it nourish you unquestionably so you know that this, THIS is what you are called to pursue. If you haven't found it yet, keep searching. It's out there somewhere, just waiting for you to pick up and run with it (literally or figuratively). I'm standing in your corner. Let's find our greatness together!</span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-31020742679771716582017-08-30T14:26:00.002-04:002017-08-30T14:41:43.880-04:00Most girls... or not<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(I haven't blogged in almost 18 months, but there is something soothing about writing that my body and mind definitely need today. Enjoy.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I listen to music more than most people. I can't help it... music moves my body, soothes my brokenness and unquestionably fills a void for me. So it shouldn't surprise anyone when I tell you that I have found a song that inspires me. Heck, it happens several times each week! Today was different though. I was about to jump in the shower after a hard workout. I threw on some music and then stood still and listened to the words that came on. "I wanna be like most girls." I closed my eyes and listened more closely, five or six times on repeat. (In fact, I am playing the song again while I write.) </span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Most girls are smart and strong and beautiful</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Most girls, work hard, go far, we are unstoppable</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Most girls, our fight to make every day, no two are the same</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I wanna be like, I wanna be like, most girls</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I wanna be like, I wanna be like, most girls<br /></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At first, I thought that Hailee Steinfeld had nailed it. This is definitely a girl power song, reminding us to be "smart and strong and beautiful." She kicks her heels off and changes outfits close to 10 times in the video... how fun! She encourages us to do life the way that makes us the most comfortable, finding what works or what doesn't. Yay, girls! Right? ....or not.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Before you throw me under the bus, hear me out. I am all about building each other up, supporting strength and courage, and redefining the standards the world has set for women. But isn't that almost the opposite of what she is saying? I love the song, I promise you. Like I told you, I have it on repeat and the volume is all the way up. However, what I don't love is that she wants to be the <b><i>same </i></b>as other girls. What happened to our desire to be unique, special, and powerful in our own bodies? Why are we suddenly putting our quirks, our abilities, our talents on the back burner and striving for sameness?? Since they were babies, I have told my daughters to always be themselves. That is rarely the popular choice and almost never the easiest, but it is always worth it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I DON'T want to be like most girls. I want to challenge myself. I want to be faster. I want to be healthier. I want to push myself beyond my own limits. I want to dress the way I want, not the way anyone tells me I should. I want to be stronger. I want to love myself more. I want to love others harder. I want to wear makeup if and when I choose, rather than everyday. I want to pray more confidently. I want to be kinder. I want to speak my mind when the world tells me to be quiet. I want to bravely fight the battles no one talks about, i.e. addiction, self-esteem and mental health. I want to be the exception to the rule when it comes to the way I give... time, talent or treasure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Did you guys catch the VMAs this past weekend? P!nk was spot on in her speech about her recent conversation with her daughter. You know that she refuses to conform to anyone or anything. She said to her daughter,<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“We don’t change. We take the gravel in the shell and we make
a pearl. And we help other people to change so they can see more kinds
of beauty.” More kinds of beauty... that's what I want to see in this world. No carbon copies. No same-old-same-old. And I want to see women who aren't f*cking afraid to be themselves, whatever that looks like. If you want to be stronger, be stronger. If you want to have a bigger heart, love harder. If you want to be more confident, find that. Be happier. Be better. Be unique. Be YOU. But DO NOT conform to this world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Be whoever the hell you want to be. And do it with everything you have. That's the only way.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-37068642144688246282016-03-02T15:02:00.001-05:002016-03-02T15:02:39.133-05:00The H word... and other ramblings...<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's true, I probably swear more than I should. But there is one word that makes me cringe more than any other word. It's the H word. I shiver when I have to say it to anyone. I even stumble over it and try to bite my tongue. It comes from a place of fear and disappointment. No, I'm not talking about hell. I'm talking about H-E-L-P.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Somewhere along the way, I started believing that asking for help made me weak. It scared me -- who wants to be weak?! And thus was born the idea that I have to do everything on my own (and perfectly, I might add.) This has gone on for years and years to the point that I still have trouble asking for help as a 30+ year old wife with three children. My family and close friends know that if they hear the phrase, "I need help," I must really mean it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Yesterday, I got another tattoo. It's incredible how many thoughts float through my head while those needles are stabbing me. <i>I should blog more. Blogging helps me be honest about what is going on inside me. It leads to healing. I bet it helps other people. I like helping other people. </i>And so on. Suddenly, I wondered if I had lost my internal monologue. "Have you blogged lately?" As she is designing something so intricate on my arm, she asks me a very intense question. No, no I haven't. Life has been rough and I've been isolating.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Several months ago, I started some new medications for my mental health issues. Things have been going fairly well. However, the side effects are intense and frustrating. This makes it even harder to ask for help. I'm fighting my own thoughts in addition to physical things I can't control. I thrive on chaos, but most days I reach a point of being completely overwhelmed. The house doesn't get cleaned, the laundry isn't done, and things get ignored. If you've followed my blog before, you know about the spoon theory... and this is where I run out of spoons. But did you know that when you ask for help, they bring their own spoons?! It's crazy, I know, but it really happens that way. Your true friends WANT to help you. They WANT to bring spoons and make your life easier. Think about it -- when one of your friends needs you, it doesn't feel like a burden. Most of the time I bet you jump on the opportunity because it's just what friends do. Your friends want to do it, too!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have a very small group of close friends. We met in various places and circumstances. They don't all have the same careers. They like different things. They have other friends, but they all have one thing in common. They love me with all that they have and they'd drop everything to be by my side if I simply asked them. You have those friends, too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At church this weekend, my priest said, "What is the burning bush God has given to you to get your attention?" In other words, what cross are you bearing, what signs is he sending, what way is God trying to show you your purpose? (And are you paying attention?!) Yesterday I sent a text saying that I figured out the answer to that question. I have never believed that anything in life is wasted. It's either a blessing or a lesson. Each difficulty I've faced lately is allowing me to help someone else, I'm certain. And this is my burning bush. It isn't going away completely because maybe I'm being called to share.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The point of all of this rambling? Use the H word. Be honest. Stop hiding. Help others. Pay attention. Love deeply. Then love a little harder.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-71696174843677434132016-01-25T11:03:00.002-05:002016-01-25T11:03:51.906-05:00It's a tunnel, not a black hole<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The thing about life is that sometimes it is so incredibly awesome. And then it really sucks. And then it's great again, or maybe it's mediocre for a while. Suckish. Okay. Wonderful. No matter where you are in your journey right this minute, I heard something very important last week that I need to share.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>"It's a tunnel, not a black hole."</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The text came through last Saturday morning, before the day even hit the craziest part. I reread it at least ten times before I could really get it. Because when you are in the tunnel and there's no end in sight, you surely wonder if it IS, in fact, a black hole. Mental illness is a nasty beast. It convinces you of so many lies that it becomes impossible to decipher the truth anymore. And so I told myself it's just a tunnel.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My daughter ended up in the ER that afternoon. We were out of town and I was very much out of my comfort zone. Tunnel, not a black hole. We got her taken care of and made it back to our hotel. The rest of the weekend required me to be extra strong for her. I put my emotions on the back burner and pushed through to do what needed to be done. By the time Monday rolled around and we were home again, I sunk into my bed and prayed I could stay there for the whole week. Y'all know the rest of the story. I have three kids. No one has time to stay in bed all week. I spent the majority of my time fighting the hospital where we visited the ER and our insurance company to get everything lined up for my daughter to undergo the next procedure to diagnosis her injury. When the week was over, I had the same thought... can't I just stay in bed all weekend and next week?!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was a glimmer of light on Friday. I had a really good day. You know, the kind where you almost think you're Wonder Woman without the cape and you cross everything off of your list and still have a little bit of energy left? If you know of the spoon theory, I had more than enough spoons and at least one extra at the end of the day. (If you don't know what that is, you can find a great explanation <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=FS6NBwAAQBAJ&pg=PA241&lpg=PA241&dq=spoon+theory+jenny+lawson+furiously+happy&source=bl&ots=pne2Yockrw&sig=32L1QRsJGUXu3RRXhK4HdokvsDc&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiV2oSvpcXKAhXFGz4KHfSPC1wQ6AEIODAE#v=onepage&q=spoon%20theory%20jenny%20lawson%20furiously%20happy&f=false" target="_blank">here</a>.) I don't typically have enough spoons. In fact, most days I run out well before I expect to and then I'm stuck trying to explain why I can't get anything done or why the tunnel feels like a black hole. The spoons reflect the light. When you're out, it's dark.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After one great day, it was back to my typical less-than-stellar spoon delivery and I was in the dark again. This morning, I remembered that it's a tunnel, not a black hole. And I wanted to share that because someone else needs to read that today. You will get through this. Don't go it alone... people love you and want to help you! <3</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-44891611794171486902015-11-18T10:41:00.000-05:002015-11-18T10:41:44.168-05:00Nothing is wasted<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have a love/hate relationship with storms. I don't like the rain, but I am fascinated by thunder and lightning. Driving in the snow makes my heart race, but I love watching dark grey snow clouds decorate the sky and I could sit in front of a fireplace with a good book all day long, waiting out the blizzard. And so it goes for the storms in life. When you are in the middle of the storm, it's hard to see anything. You gasp, trying to catch your breath, often wondering why it has to be so difficult and scary. And eventually the storm passes. There isn't always a freaking rainbow. There's usually a lot of damage that we have to work through in order to get back to some normalcy. And although nothing is ever the same, that's not always a bad thing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Just think, all of those disappointments, heartbreaks, and broken dreams brought you to this exact moment. I am willing to bet that your plans for life looked a little different than your current life. Am I right? Mine certainly did. I was going to either play basketball professionally, become an opera singer or move to a beautiful island to be a missionary with my husband. Obviously, none of those plans came to fruition. I'll be honest and tell you that sometimes I'm still disappointed. I really don't want to play basketball anymore and I am lucky enough to be a musician and sing all the time (without the stress of performances and rehearsals and getting the part, etc). I'm actually glad that we aren't missionaries in the Dominican -- I love it there, but I also love my family and I need them close by!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Still, disappointment gets loud sometimes. I didn't plan to be a young mom. We had our first daughter when I was 18. There is nothing anyone can say to prepare a brand new adult to raise a brand new baby. Parenting is really hard no matter how old you are... but if you are just learning how to "do life" yourself, it's extremely challenging. And putting your life on hold because you are being dealt a new hand can also shake up your world. I didn't ask for mental health issues or an addictive personality. It feels like a boxing ring. Except you have no gloves on. And you're being hit from every side. Eventually you get to a point where you'd like to tap out, except the ref never blows his whistle. No one wants to be overweight and miserable. It wasn't a goal I achieved. It happened over time. Then taking the first step to a better lifestyle is the hardest one. Admitting that you need to change is certainly scary. For most, they are stepping into the unknown and who likes that?! </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's just not fair.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This week has kicked my butt. I tried to pretend that everything was fine, ride out the storm on my own. I know better than to do that, but I hate asking for help, and really there isn't much anyone else can do. I have to be the heroine of my own life. I'm not saying that I can do this alone or that their listening ears and broad shoulders don't help me press on. Yet, the decision still has to be mine. I shared with a friend that I'm simply exhausted. I'm tired of fighting all the time. I want a "normal" life. I want a boring past. However, that's not the life I was meant to live. It's this one... full of chaos and struggle, messes and baggage --- tenacity, victory, miracles and strength. Despite how many times I feel like I'm failing, what really happens is that after some time, when the sky breaks, I gain confidence, another chapter of my story is written, one more soul finds their own ability to press on through my sharing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As my brother-in-law told me, the mess becomes a message. </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Everything I go through fulfills a specific purpose. All the sleepless nights, the tears as I sob uncontrollably, the anger that rages up from the bottom of my stomach, it all happens for reasons I still don't know. But I am trying to trust that it continues to help others. Sharing the struggles gives them less power over me. So, I share. And believe. And trust. Nothing is wasted.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-1330073294326891622015-11-05T20:13:00.001-05:002015-11-05T20:15:30.090-05:00Great expectations<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Did you know that no one expects you to have it all together all of the time? Seriously, not one single person. And if you find someone that ever says that, smack them. That's just crazy talk. And you need new friends.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But guess who expects *me* to have it all together all of the time? <u>ME</u>! Somewhere in my messed up brain, I feel like a failure when we have laundry all over the living room (it's clean and folded and sorted, but that's just not good enough). I feel defeated when the dog hair tumbleweeds appear on our hardwood floors. The dishes overflow from the sink onto the counter and suddenly I tell myself I'm the worst person in the world. My kids argue with each other, wear mismatching clothes or walk into their dance classes 2 minutes late and I think everyone is judging me for being a horrible mom. The budget is tight and the voices in my head tell me I should have gone back to college. I have one really hard workout, I see every tiny flaw in my body or my run is just bad and I tell myself that I should just quit trying. I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, but if I tell anyone, they will think I suck and that all I do is whine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Never in a million years would I say ANY of those things to someone else if they were in the same situation. In fact, I would tell them how wrong they were. I would find those beautiful things that make them tick, the unique qualities that draw me to them, the way they make my life amazing and how they are irreplaceable to me. And I guarantee none of the things I would say to them have to do with laundry or sweeping or dishes or being on time or being rich or being a machine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So quit it. Quit expecting so much out of yourself. And tell me to knock it off as well. At the end of the day, I want to count how freely I lived, how well I loved and how generously I gave. Not much else really matters to God or to me.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-15480379890062218792015-11-03T14:46:00.000-05:002015-11-03T14:46:02.269-05:00Some thoughts from the bar<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I quit drinking eight years ago, so I guess that might clue you into the fact that this has nothing to do with alcohol or the local tavern. However, I had some pretty great thoughts today while I was holding a bar during a Les Mills BodyPump class. And they made me feel alive!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before I get started, let me dispel some of those crazy myths that I'm tired of hearing. Lifting will NOT make a woman bulky. It will make her fit and build muscle. It will make her strong. It might even make her confident and happy. But huge, no. (Bodybuilding is a separate topic we can cover later.) Secondly, it doesn't make us any less feminine. I wore a pencil skirt and stilettos to church on Sunday. I got a ton of compliments and strangely enough, no one told me I looked like a man, so scratch that idea. Finally (for today, anyway), lifting is not dangerous. Honestly, anything you do or don't do can be dangerous. As long as you are lifting smart and listening to your body or your instructor/coach, you'll be fine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now that we have all of that out of the way, here are the things that went through my head today during Pump.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>1. You can do anything for a short period of time.</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went to class today with a migraine. I felt like garbage. Before class even started, I gave myself permission to leave if I needed to. By the time class was half way over, I knew that I could keep going and finish class. Nice try, migraine. I win.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>2. Laughing with friends is SO good for the soul.</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today's instructor is naturally silly and one of my closest friends. She always makes me laugh and today was no exception. Between the jokes, the laughing and the dancing, I couldn't help but smile! By the way, dancing with weights is even more of a challenge! Haha!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>3. Moms are way too hard on themselves.</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our Tuesday morning class is made up of mostly moms. If you stick around after class or come a few minutes early, many of the conversations that can be heard revolve around what we are doing wrong as parents, what are kids are doing or not doing, and how we wish we could change this or that. Hold the phone, ladies. Being a parent is the hardest job I've ever had! You keep showing up and trying your best. I applaud you... give yourself a break.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>4. Not all dripping faucets are bad.</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hate the sound of my faucets dripping. I run through the house making sure they are turned off and then yell at my kids for not noticing. During Pump, I sweat. It doesn't matter if it is the dead of winter or the middle of summer. I am soaked by the time we are 5 minutes into class. This morning, sweat was dripping from my elbows in a continuous stream. Disgusting and satisfying at the same time. That faucet did not need adjusted!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>5. You are great.</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is no need to compare your accomplishments to anyone else. YOU are great just the way you are right this second. I can't run as fast as half of the people I know. My weights aren't what they used to be months ago when I was lifting three times per week. I'm not a very good cook even though I took two cooking classes in high school. I am probably the worst housekeeper in the history of mankind. But I'm still great. I run and lift weights instead of eating crappy food and lying in bed like I used to do. I'm a really good mom. I am involved in my kids' activities and I'm always there to support them. I am a godly wife. I pray for my husband daily and we work well together to keep our house running smoothly. (He's a much better cook than me!) And I am a loyal friend. I never want anyone to feel like they are alone. Ever.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And that just shows you that even when you are lifting heavy weights, you can have some amazing thought processes, "pop it" while dancing to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8Cg572dafQ" target="_blank">GDFR</a>, smile, cry and shower the floor with your sweat. Go do something that makes you feel alive.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-40789140330566751482015-11-02T12:51:00.002-05:002015-11-02T12:51:25.841-05:00My week in pictures<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last week held lots of fun and very little work. People often think I only work out and run in circles with my kids. While that is partially true, here is some proof that I LOVE to have fun!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have these incredible friends. They are true and loyal and hardcore and funny and irreplaceable. We like to eat food together... lots of food! Here are pictures from our brunch last Sunday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And a waffle as my side!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Aren't we gorgeous?!?! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I made some time to hang out with my parents' dog, Gem. She loves butter mints and sitting on my mom's recliner!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1RjVG0rPHExd7tE4KvsCUE8FvmnPzrbXpiuT5xvxxOelq1Ga92O535_CdZXjMzlUzFibS024SyQeF-akcJOuwgmaWctE9YMggQLgyPmlKRoVUNKnrAllaseg7B-spe7IQ7qwGyrGwfKs/s1600/12179967_10153036282131890_2133253709_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1RjVG0rPHExd7tE4KvsCUE8FvmnPzrbXpiuT5xvxxOelq1Ga92O535_CdZXjMzlUzFibS024SyQeF-akcJOuwgmaWctE9YMggQLgyPmlKRoVUNKnrAllaseg7B-spe7IQ7qwGyrGwfKs/s400/12179967_10153036282131890_2133253709_n.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I surprised my nephew at his preschool sing-a-long and went shopping at Target. Happy Wednesday!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7RkTxyjpN9w3S9Iw77HgGA9OlX7fwmRwlc2ng9bbPzgFtv_u86ZNXimxRTR_purtdIhYctCbrq2cEwmkn_-gKiv5BPE-UVh-J91quj63Tp3IwhOh4Sx6yD7LpyrF9omNezzNXxsEHiU/s1600/12179303_10153038782911890_2027750784_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7RkTxyjpN9w3S9Iw77HgGA9OlX7fwmRwlc2ng9bbPzgFtv_u86ZNXimxRTR_purtdIhYctCbrq2cEwmkn_-gKiv5BPE-UVh-J91quj63Tp3IwhOh4Sx6yD7LpyrF9omNezzNXxsEHiU/s400/12179303_10153038782911890_2027750784_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Saturday evening was our town's Halloween parade. I enjoyed every minute of the 2+ hour parade, especially watching my kids dance with our studio's group. And of course I ate candy... who wouldn't?!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday, I was featured in a newspaper article...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0C8zNsuG_moK4C9PXN3ExC42siqP8I1tXKPVQ3R9ru3tzLMHZdYBfM0TOwsZQWl6XtZ6c19w0FD3navXaubvCOm1N7dJzuq95-acz1lZ7dINK1TClyyTvvQfTirmF_DOohbGudMSmnR8/s1600/12188844_10153044907791890_477851527_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0C8zNsuG_moK4C9PXN3ExC42siqP8I1tXKPVQ3R9ru3tzLMHZdYBfM0TOwsZQWl6XtZ6c19w0FD3navXaubvCOm1N7dJzuq95-acz1lZ7dINK1TClyyTvvQfTirmF_DOohbGudMSmnR8/s400/12188844_10153044907791890_477851527_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...and my family wore purple in honor of a friend's heaven day!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">See? I really am just a normal girl.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-63900969140862564722015-10-27T13:20:00.001-04:002015-10-27T13:20:34.266-04:00Running out of time<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"It's no secret that the both of us are running out of time." -<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQHsXMglC9A" target="_blank">Adele, Hello</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Alright, Adele. I heard you loud and clear yesterday. I bit the bullet and mustered up all of the courage inside. And I made an amends to someone. I haven't spoken to this person in four or five years. The actual thought of apologizing and asking for forgiveness left me with a huge knot in my stomach. But those lyrics echoed in my head repeatedly. What if I run out of time and never say I'm sorry?!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Suddenly, I'm realizing that there are lots of things I should be doing instead of waiting around. "Someday" is a word I tend to use a lot. What am I waiting for? For the perfect day? Or the right feeling in my heart? Or a bigger bank account? Or less bills? Or a rainbow or a blizzard? Or when it's too late???</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Please don't misunderstand me. I'm not telling you to be reckless and spend all your money and go crazy being spontaneous. Spontaneity is my nemesis -- we do not get along very well. I AM telling you that I think we spend an awful lot of time waiting for the "right time" to do things or say things, and then when life happens and we realize we missed the opportunity, we're heart broken. You are the only one who is responsible for your actions or lack thereof.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I made the decision to start my journey back to health, it was not spontaneous. I remember everything about that day... the conversation I had with my husband, the sinking feeling, the fear, the white flag. Do I wish I had started sooner? Of course I do!!! I had no idea life could be this incredible. But in the same breath that I say that, if I had started sooner, I don't think I would have tried so hard. The desire would not have been the same, the necessity to stop hating myself. And then the effort wouldn't have been equal either. It was my time. I'm grateful I didn't wait any longer. I was already holding on to the knot at the end of my rope.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What are you waiting for? Do you want to start taking your health back? Do you need to apologize to someone for the way your hurt them? What about love? Maybe you need to go after that one person who has always had your heart. Or leave the toxic relationship that you know is not helping you grow as an individual. Or try that task you have dreamed about but have just been too afraid to attempt. It could be as simple as looking in the mirror and telling yourself that you are enough... not that you'll be enough when you have this or that, or when so-and-so says so, but right now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One thing we are not guaranteed in life is more time. Stop holding your breath and waiting for the perfect moment. It isn't coming. Ever. Right now is the time to just do it. Grit your teeth. Clench your fists if you must. But don't wait. We are all running out of time.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-61256532812854126752015-10-26T15:26:00.003-04:002015-10-26T15:26:41.097-04:00You are a super hero!<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Do
you realize how many brave things you have done in your life? Often
when I point out brave behavior to my friends, they shluff it off and
act like it is just normal. I do it, too. But hold on one stinking
second – every day, ordinary people do super brave things. Once in
a while, we acknowledge our accomplishments, but not often enough. So
as I sit at the car dealership (in my leggings, boots and oversized
sweatshirt, messy bun hair and Tervis next to me – yep, I'm that
ordinary) getting my oil changed, I'm going to recognize what I
consider some extraordinary behavior.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A:
This girl works for a local college. For the past month (almost every
since day), she has been traveling alone, visiting schools,
participating in college fairs, and doing lots of hard work. She has
been living out of a suitcase, yet still being an amazing friend and
source of support while she is gone. I can't travel for more than 3
days without becoming home sick. To me, A is brave!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">H:
She's a very busy girl who works two jobs. She leaves her house early
in the morning and usually returns about 14 hours later. Her
encouragement of others is absolutely amazing, and her determination
is beautiful. Despite the fact that is pregnant, she ran a half
marathon last weekend. She continues to work so hard to stay healthy
during this pregnancy while balancing her work, time with her
husband, and fun with her friends. To me, H is brave!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">S:
This woman works three jobs, maintains a busy house with three young
children, and supports her husband's hectic work schedule. Every day,
she reminds me of the most important thing of all – that God is in
charge of my day. She started a non-profit this year to honor a
friend who passed away from cancer. It has grown exponentially over
the course of the last 6 months, but she still has bigger plans in
the wings. She refuses to allow fear to hold her back from anything
that feels right to her heart. To me, S is brave!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">K:
K was in a very unhealthy relationship when I met her. It was hard to
tell her to leave the comfort of that familiarity, but I knew it was
toxic. When she was ready, she kicked him out. She figured out how
strong she really was, discovering a new career, new happiness and
now, a beautiful new relationship with a man who treats her like a
queen. She is always sharing ways that she is downsizing and
minimizing clutter in her life. To me, K is brave!
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">T:
T is an introvert. She experiences great anxiety when in public,
especially around new people. Instead of letting this paralyze her,
she joined a local running group... her health was more important to
her! She is also homeschooling her son to balance his Asperger's.
She's a godly wife and an incredible source of encouragement to those
who are lucky enough to know her. To me, T is brave!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">D:
After several years of uncertainty and an unused college degree, D
applied to go back to school. She has been taking an EMT class and
finding what makes her heart happy. It hasn't been easy to admit that
her first career choice didn't work out, but she isn't dwelling on it
now. Every day, she takes a new step in the right direction. She
refuses to be stifled by fear or judgment. To me, D is brave!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me:
Several years ago, I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and
a personality disorder. Some days, I barely notice. Other days, it
takes me at least 20 minutes to even swing my legs over the edge of
the bed in the morning. I still struggle with the desire to isolate.
I don't like to let people into my circle because my fear of
abandonment is crippling. And yet, I go to the gym almost every day.
I teach dance classes and manage very busy schedules for my three
kids while my husband works out of town. I push through my fears and
try to reach out when I need help (that's probably the bravest thing
for me!) To me, I am brave!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
am sure there are a thousand more stories of people who display
bravery daily, even though they may believe that what they do is
“normal.” Do you know someone who does brave things? Tell them
how incredible they are! And each day, I dare you to celebrate the
things you do that are extraordinary. You don't need to be saving the
world or fighting “bad guys” to be brave. Maybe you just fight
the enemy in your head. Maybe you make it through an entire day
without raising your voice at your kids. Maybe you charge forward
with a dream and tell fear to take a backseat. Whatever it is, I
think you're brave. Keep it up!!!</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-41949833498998629712015-10-23T09:30:00.000-04:002015-10-23T09:30:00.327-04:00Journal Prompt :: Day 55<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spend five minutes writing. Set your timer and go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>How are you celebrating yourself today? YOU ARE AWESOME!!!</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-18010279771889997792015-10-22T15:45:00.002-04:002015-11-03T12:53:08.704-05:00The last team member<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I don't want to ever forget my first half marathon. I decided that the best way to remember is to write about it and blog because why not?!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Runner's World Half Marathon & Festival was wonderful! The six hour drive was long, but being with my girlfriends made it enjoyable. We sang and laughed and really enjoyed our time together. I tried to relax, but I couldn't do it. I had watched the course video at least 5 times before we got to Bethlehem. I had memorized the elevation chart. I knew there were hills and curves, water, Ultima, and a food station. However, I was still doubting my ability to cross the finish line. I only know a small group of half-marathoners. They trained for months. Some of them still struggled to push through the pain and exhaustion. And I was the last team member to complete my race after a whirlwind ambitious training plan. My heart was heavy with doubt and fear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We lined up early in the morning. It was 31 degrees... my muscles were shaking. I was so nervous, I kept feeling sick to my stomach. All I wanted to do was go home. What if I couldn't do this?! We lined up just behind the 9:30 minute mile pace marker. I could not stand still. I said some prayers and turned on my music. I set my running app and took a deep breath. Deena Kastor spoke, but I honestly have no idea what she said. And then the National Anthem began. It was the most beautiful rendition I have ever heard in my life. My body stopped completely. I felt a wave wash over me from head to toe, slowly. And then the countdown...</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.32px;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The first few miles were spent (for the most part) next to my coach. Her presence was amazing. I wasn't as scared. My breathing was good. We didn't talk much except for our normal, "You okay?" check-ins here and there. Nothing hurt until mile 3... my knee decided to give out for a quick second, but I wasn't about to let that stop me. We pushed on.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Somewhere around mile 5.5, we hit a hill. I went ahead from her a little. The plan was to stop just after mile 6 at the food station and reunite with her. Surprise -- no food station after mile 6. My head fell. I knew I was going to have to finish the next 7 miles without her by my side. I crossed over the 10k pad and got a beautiful text from my friend. She had been following my progress. Tears streamed down my face... "...you fierce and brave lady!!!"</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.32px;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Throughout the course, we passed at least four or five marching bands. Their enthusiasm was awesome. I high-fived lots of kids, thanked as many volunteers as possible and smiled a ton. I remember a little old lady with her cowbell, holding her cane over her forearm. "Go, runners!" she exclaimed. I laughed so hard and thanked her!</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.32px;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We ran past a cemetery and the guy next to me said, "Run faster, before the zombies come out." Comic relief helped tremendously. We rounded a corner and the sun came out. After running in 31 degree weather for over an hour, I was still frozen. I closed my eyes and thanked God for the sunshine. It felt so good on my face! </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.32px;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I prayed. I sang. I cried. I talked to my running angel. I heard my coach in my head many times even though we weren't together. I heard my training team cheering in my ear (I love you, Nike Running+ App!!!). I even held up many half hearts along the way when I needed them the most.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19.32px;">Each mile had a marker AND a timer clock. Thank you, Runner's World! </span><span style="background-color: transparent; line-height: 19.32px;">And while I didn't have a set finishing time in mind, with each passing mil</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: transparent; display: inline; line-height: 19.32px;">e, I held on tighter to the idea that I could finish under 2:15:00.</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.32px;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Mile 8 was hard. I had taken one bite of my very frozen granola bar around mile 6, but I was running out of fuel. And then I saw them... dixie cups. "Pretzels and gummy bears." I looked in the cup before taking it... RED GUMMY BEARS!!! I ate one, wrapped the cup into a ball and shoved it in my pocket. Onward.</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.32px;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As I approached mile 10, I panicked. I had never run more than 10 miles in my training. What if I couldn't finish? Maybe I should wait for my coach... she could help me finish. Without even a second of hesitation, I could hear her voice telling me that I was not going to stop and wait. I touched my wrist -- I wear two Mantra Bands daily. <i>All I need is within me. Never give up.</i> I took a deep breath and turned my music up a little louder. My playlist suddenly got to a place I had never reached before... new songs were fantastic at that point!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Mile 11 brought the city back into view. The lyrics in my ear said, "Fight like a warrior." I was transported back to the day my doctor said I couldn't run, the walking boot I had to wear, the 8 weeks of no running, all of the tears I had shed, the breakdown that led to my ambitious training. "You're not even tired." The voices in a runner's head can be hysterical. And there she was... a young, smiling photographer. She captured the BEST moment of the race -- love for my Team LeAnn!</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.32px;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'd love to say that the last few miles were effortless, but they took everything I had. My knee had given out two more times. I was spent. Two incredible women were running my pace for most of the race. I made sure they were in my sight at all times. I appreciate them more than they even know! Sepideh & Shereen, I am so grateful that you were there, running my pace, smiling and lifting my spirits!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;">One more hill, down and around to the Steel Stacks. I wanted to walk. My legs were hurting so badly. I didn't even think I could make it to the finish line. However, w</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;">hen I rounded the last corner, I saw the flaming arch and knew it was time to kick, no matter how much it hurt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;">Kick. I said it out loud several times. KICK. And then I saw the clock. I felt my wings. And I flew. 2:14:32.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was sobbing as I crossed the finish line. I had done it. </span><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There's nothing quite like the finish line... except the medal they put on your neck... and knowing that you are one bad@$$ mother runner... and finally wearing your tattoo proudly because you are, in fact, unstoppable. </span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">It was a day for the record books. And a good day to pray. None of this was done by me alone. Yes, my legs carried me, along with God, my family, my coach, my angel, my team and my friends.</span></div>
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<b style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;">Things I'm extra grateful for today (in no particular order):</b></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Friends. True, honest, hardcore friends<br />Race volunteers<br />Red gummy bears<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br />Space blankets<br />Heated seats<br />Leggings<br />Open fields and Autumn leaves</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;">Primanti Bros.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;">Rump Shaker</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 19.32px;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjenmCKhwNEPqBFo4rHgcrl53xGmCmkTxzggWC7K8I57dkGf5IuqxhWPCJ-PVk7Qs-D9JALoVvH2D0Ope_pa7vl1DuY9hgZoOLDAQGLxS40wJ60uY6wC6rwFGsJvpZNR_POvkqMM_Thjfw/s1600/12170710_10153024046056890_307545178_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjenmCKhwNEPqBFo4rHgcrl53xGmCmkTxzggWC7K8I57dkGf5IuqxhWPCJ-PVk7Qs-D9JALoVvH2D0Ope_pa7vl1DuY9hgZoOLDAQGLxS40wJ60uY6wC6rwFGsJvpZNR_POvkqMM_Thjfw/s400/12170710_10153024046056890_307545178_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-11807922536396605202015-10-22T14:30:00.000-04:002015-10-22T14:30:18.328-04:00Journal Prompt :: Day 54<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spend five minutes writing. Set your timer and go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>How will you refill your tank today?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_YqPpc6w_G_n9XH72z5d2WFCSWxmg1KlS2tit1F0aAYe9Xn_sozdLAB4RhERvcSLepNk4DzeihgXH_cjNL1qKumk4G7gOh3e_w8dKR-JM9ik-x7oG2ffM7RYbRCDtMEllz253fyc5q2w/s1600/EmptyTank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_YqPpc6w_G_n9XH72z5d2WFCSWxmg1KlS2tit1F0aAYe9Xn_sozdLAB4RhERvcSLepNk4DzeihgXH_cjNL1qKumk4G7gOh3e_w8dKR-JM9ik-x7oG2ffM7RYbRCDtMEllz253fyc5q2w/s1600/EmptyTank.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-13303378727186517772015-10-21T09:30:00.000-04:002015-10-22T14:28:53.260-04:00Journal Prompt :: Day 53<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spend five minutes writing. Set your timer and go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>How will you celebrate your biggest breakthrough?</b></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipeRYbxyQDVa4wIQoKP7ofd2pzB8GmnIks8kSovUsaODL0upaRpbvHcOMoj2fZmZ1z42lPygqqCb_Qv-Ae3KvCrmZfpDCQJIocQ63NVyftYEZgGwGcCpL0Ji-4V4VsYO3poiSByG_84kI/s1600/Breakthrough.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipeRYbxyQDVa4wIQoKP7ofd2pzB8GmnIks8kSovUsaODL0upaRpbvHcOMoj2fZmZ1z42lPygqqCb_Qv-Ae3KvCrmZfpDCQJIocQ63NVyftYEZgGwGcCpL0Ji-4V4VsYO3poiSByG_84kI/s320/Breakthrough.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-14235160096004704552015-10-20T09:30:00.000-04:002015-10-22T14:27:18.620-04:00Journal Prompt :: Day 52<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spend five minutes writing. Set your timer and go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>How will your conquer your fears?</b></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjBPgwzG7hP-i6feq3ReDBDF19b5emTkkVqvkwAjUz4EclmgQ7qYxxmwucxI9Zd8_wJVs5Lp5Ov1YXLnBkMZ-8ZbVppmTnsco0DO8xlKuZklQumtv4ZjMpAPWaX7b2IcPO02TeF7ZEPJE/s1600/no_fear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjBPgwzG7hP-i6feq3ReDBDF19b5emTkkVqvkwAjUz4EclmgQ7qYxxmwucxI9Zd8_wJVs5Lp5Ov1YXLnBkMZ-8ZbVppmTnsco0DO8xlKuZklQumtv4ZjMpAPWaX7b2IcPO02TeF7ZEPJE/s320/no_fear.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-53149841280200645732015-10-19T09:30:00.000-04:002015-10-19T09:30:00.986-04:00Journal Prompt :: Day 51<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spend five minutes writing. Set your timer and go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>When do you feel the strongest?</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2UMOUDCr3JzmVJxw-307KI_ICVqME6YnhnC21aosaxdH2Tn8D2YVIU7q_v7qwOVYbp-jImURyr_AVGLSgHywWl5v4ub3kFv2oD4CsQvxyM4y98itt0WzIhMsFUjLb_uuZ2abjXQpxGlM/s1600/stronh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2UMOUDCr3JzmVJxw-307KI_ICVqME6YnhnC21aosaxdH2Tn8D2YVIU7q_v7qwOVYbp-jImURyr_AVGLSgHywWl5v4ub3kFv2oD4CsQvxyM4y98itt0WzIhMsFUjLb_uuZ2abjXQpxGlM/s400/stronh.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-9983667198170543612015-10-18T09:00:00.000-04:002015-10-18T09:00:01.993-04:00Finish lines, not finish times<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Right now, I am running. I'm probably hitting the wall. My legs and lungs are tired. My heart is racing, sweat dripping down my cheeks, and I'd like to give up. Sound familiar? We all experience the point at which we'd like to give up. But you, YOU are an athlete. And you aren't going to give up this time. And neither am I. By the time this day is over, I'll have completed a half marathon. And you will only have one more week until you are ready for the race of a lifetime!!!</span><br />
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<table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" dir="ltr" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: 1px solid #ccc; font-family: arial,sans,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; table-layout: fixed;"><colgroup><col width="100"></col><col width="100"></col><col width="100"></col><col width="100"></col><col width="100"></col><col width="100"></col><col width="100"></col></colgroup><tbody>
<tr style="height: 41px;"><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"Sunday 10/18"]" style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom; vertical-align: middle;">Sunday 10/18</td><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"Monday 10/19"]" style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom; vertical-align: middle;">Monday 10/19</td><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"Tuesday 10/20"]" style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom; vertical-align: middle;">Tuesday 10/20</td><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"Wednesday 10/21"]" style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom; vertical-align: middle;">Wednesday 10/21</td><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"Thursday 10/22"]" style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom; vertical-align: middle;">Thursday 10/22</td><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"Friday 10/23"]" style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom; vertical-align: middle;">Friday 10/23</td><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"Saturday 10/24"]" style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom; vertical-align: middle;">Saturday 10/24</td></tr>
<tr style="height: 46px;"><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"Rest"]" style="font-family: verdana; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom;">Rest</td><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"30 min walk"]" style="font-family: verdana; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom;">30 min walk</td><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"Rest"]" style="font-family: verdana; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom;">Rest</td><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"30 min walk"]" style="font-family: verdana; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom;">30 min walk</td><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"Rest"]" style="font-family: verdana; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom;">Rest</td><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"Rest"]" style="font-family: verdana; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom;">Rest</td><td data-sheets-value="[null,2,"RACE DAY"]" style="font-family: verdana; padding: 2px 3px 2px 3px; text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom;">RACE DAY</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whether you have already signed up for a 5k or you'd like to but haven't had the guts to do so yet, I want to help you. Contact me so we can find one in your area and get you registered. I'm anticipating lots of selfies and messages from you! I am so proud of you. Today and always.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-60572279383946837122015-10-18T08:00:00.000-04:002015-10-18T08:00:02.675-04:00Journal Prompt :: Day 50<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spend five minutes writing. Set your timer and go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>How will you spread your wings today? Write about doing something you are afraid of doing, then do it!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lm94kssaizXe842wJaN1T70m6W8gz8JvcqYB_BeQ4W9j40_Lc99qD83D2rJ5u0U0-f2wZepHbdAhT30jPWfc6XGUU3LUs7kPpc1iaV3NQ2dmFaUmjhFC12VMTCLDpXkR3TcIuxJxcj4/s1600/Fly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lm94kssaizXe842wJaN1T70m6W8gz8JvcqYB_BeQ4W9j40_Lc99qD83D2rJ5u0U0-f2wZepHbdAhT30jPWfc6XGUU3LUs7kPpc1iaV3NQ2dmFaUmjhFC12VMTCLDpXkR3TcIuxJxcj4/s400/Fly.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-85913641632149300852015-10-17T09:30:00.000-04:002015-10-17T09:30:01.843-04:00Journal Prompt :: Day 49<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spend five minutes writing. Set your timer and go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>How will you make today different from all the other days you have already lived?</b></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHdw18WYVuNY_OqC0i3o270V30FvqFBlEyXwdBjDzl7pOU6w6SODLfgoGQipVyb2Dffiv_BWca_itGCCUDe6D8_8Pwnm_IRbChAhL_8pMyg397mgOMOJsr6Q9N5_VpR4mO4WtgzEWEQf8/s1600/bethedifference.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHdw18WYVuNY_OqC0i3o270V30FvqFBlEyXwdBjDzl7pOU6w6SODLfgoGQipVyb2Dffiv_BWca_itGCCUDe6D8_8Pwnm_IRbChAhL_8pMyg397mgOMOJsr6Q9N5_VpR4mO4WtgzEWEQf8/s320/bethedifference.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-3852826432172524842015-10-16T09:30:00.000-04:002015-10-16T09:30:01.847-04:00Journal Prompt :: Day 48<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spend five minutes writing. Set your timer and go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>Write down 10 positive qualities about yourself.</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO9ExEdZ_Et2EOMRHVbopy78KMihxpKBQPILerSgqBzzaacwHRi8zgSyLy3SysSEhzJKPLfJ0VGQA1UqnfyPcGl3M6KGRNB8bWkSiK0JJGFpxANo2Nks6k_Loe1XFFMDB8MDqkMPzc61s/s1600/iam.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO9ExEdZ_Et2EOMRHVbopy78KMihxpKBQPILerSgqBzzaacwHRi8zgSyLy3SysSEhzJKPLfJ0VGQA1UqnfyPcGl3M6KGRNB8bWkSiK0JJGFpxANo2Nks6k_Loe1XFFMDB8MDqkMPzc61s/s320/iam.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-52998928414763169192015-10-15T09:30:00.000-04:002015-10-15T09:30:01.715-04:00Journal Prompt :: Day 47<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spend five minutes writing. Set your timer and go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>What does happiness look like for you today?</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYFi3CQ3n1YfkCBvMt1tfOPweONj5EI7fjC0bdpvwqbyIOlM77Siszo3ZVEXqRMwWZPeutGyKnLlquw5NjeyKnXC6-uLFy75fCIQ3WRaEoCki4kr56wRGL8ZKF3MpXhz2NEktYhJNl9pw/s1600/happiness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYFi3CQ3n1YfkCBvMt1tfOPweONj5EI7fjC0bdpvwqbyIOlM77Siszo3ZVEXqRMwWZPeutGyKnLlquw5NjeyKnXC6-uLFy75fCIQ3WRaEoCki4kr56wRGL8ZKF3MpXhz2NEktYhJNl9pw/s320/happiness.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-31652806980955012722015-10-14T14:41:00.000-04:002015-10-14T14:41:41.218-04:00Flying<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hesitated to write today. My mind is all over the place, it is cold and rainy outside and I'd love to wave my white flag and sleep until tomorrow. But this is where my heart has been calling me all day, so here I am. Bear with me.</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Each time in the past year that I have been on the brink of something amazing, whether that is a business success, unveiling a new project or running a great race, my body revolts. Things really get crazy. Thoughts of doubt become prominent. I begin speaking to myself with such a negative connotation and saying things I wouldn't even say to my worst enemy. And typically I get ill in some way... exhaustion, migraines, etc. It has become so commonplace that I almost expect it, and so do my family and friends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today is 4 days out from the longest race of my life. I knew I would get race anxiety this week, but I guess I wasn't really prepared for the severity. I woke up yesterday feeling like I had been beat up in the night. This morning, it was a headache, achy legs and the desire to back out of the race. I know you're thinking, "Four days before the race? Why on earth would you do that?" And I just hang my head and respond, "I can't do it." That isn't true. It can't be. I've worked so hard to get to this point including an ambitious return plan. I've run through the heat, the falling leaves, pouring rain and blowing snow for this. I've set early alarms 7 days per week. I have even gotten up at 4am to run. Yeah, I'm that girl. So what the heck?!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Truthfully, it really doesn't matter. I don't need to know why I'm hitting a wall or why I feel like my chest is so tight I can't breathe. It won't help me to figure out why I have been crying all afternoon. And really, the race doesn't even matter. In fact, this was scheduled to be my third half marathon, not my first. It isn't the date or the venue or the 6 hour drive to get there. It's the journey over the past 18 months that matters more. It is the feeling I'll have in my heart when I cross that finish line, or the way I will tell my kids about the race when I get home. What matters is that despite how many times I have been knocked down, I have overcome every damn thing that has stood in my way.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYv5h5muzahbZv7SSiRjPBIsn4_6Tra6hm_TBXhxRMtlXWkGshVTPJa-geBN-VHSGTSwgVqlM5lObBYrPXfX7rmi3D9OhGjstRYSUwKsjX-AcRiBZLPxvSwcO5km7rYbW_R8zsImoQHF8/s1600/12087261_10153019897591890_8091933643808503497_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYv5h5muzahbZv7SSiRjPBIsn4_6Tra6hm_TBXhxRMtlXWkGshVTPJa-geBN-VHSGTSwgVqlM5lObBYrPXfX7rmi3D9OhGjstRYSUwKsjX-AcRiBZLPxvSwcO5km7rYbW_R8zsImoQHF8/s400/12087261_10153019897591890_8091933643808503497_o.jpg" width="398" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My coach gave me a plaque that says, "Until you spread your wings, you will have no idea how far you can fly." I think that says it all. I'm afraid I won't be able to fly, like my wings won't work or that I'll fall on my face. Though I'd say showing up and falling on your face and then getting back up (because hell, I do not stay down well at all) would still be flying. I've gone from the confines of the chrysalis to the freedom of the butterfly. Pretend you are a caterpillar. Do it. When you are in that cocoon, it's dark and scary. You are alone. It's necessary, but terrifying. You'd like to stay there but you know you must leave if you want to continue living. To break out of it, you have to use your own strength. (If you help a butterfly loosen the cocoon, it will not develop its wings properly and thus, it will die. True story.) It is hard work and exhausting. Once you are finally free, there is still more work!!! Seriously?! You actually have to try to fly. You've never done that before, but all you need is within you. You are full of new life, strong yet fragile and a beautiful inspiration to others.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So why are you afraid of flying? Probably for the same reason that I'm afraid. But I am unstoppable. Watch me.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-52412629987297171522015-10-14T09:30:00.000-04:002015-10-14T09:30:01.700-04:00Journal Prompt :: Day 46<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spend five minutes writing. Set your timer and go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>Write a thank you letter to someone. (You don't have to mail it... just write.)</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6udovYa5Q3zM_9cyfT6j4tD_uHJIUlBbjFszWLhG-85QmcKbzN0tVTZ-Kk9d3cbejr_dXC0qczh1f_WsNvLSfgEOnG6ty8EUJ_o_4o71Xdt71D6GI9GoodEfLfHz_Q30gC72rsbNP1ng/s1600/Thankyou.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6udovYa5Q3zM_9cyfT6j4tD_uHJIUlBbjFszWLhG-85QmcKbzN0tVTZ-Kk9d3cbejr_dXC0qczh1f_WsNvLSfgEOnG6ty8EUJ_o_4o71Xdt71D6GI9GoodEfLfHz_Q30gC72rsbNP1ng/s320/Thankyou.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-83815997051591846062015-10-13T10:00:00.000-04:002015-10-13T16:31:15.835-04:00Journal Prompt :: Day 45<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spend five minutes writing. Set your timer and go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>What is the last for-fun book you read?</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFGLJiORJvHIgMK85U5kvGKAZz2SQDH6JcuTHaoEfM0U_4QDOW8-wj-bqKzDOR2MKrre1b0UUy9xfDZ5js58NVjk29XZn_0u1-f3PMzpkQ00SKtinTKadBWVjFlD7YEw-7PtPz_kix6qo/s1600/keep-calm-and-love-reading-64.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFGLJiORJvHIgMK85U5kvGKAZz2SQDH6JcuTHaoEfM0U_4QDOW8-wj-bqKzDOR2MKrre1b0UUy9xfDZ5js58NVjk29XZn_0u1-f3PMzpkQ00SKtinTKadBWVjFlD7YEw-7PtPz_kix6qo/s320/keep-calm-and-love-reading-64.png" width="274" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4706414751250852699.post-18217115977279665142015-10-12T09:30:00.000-04:002015-10-12T09:30:01.019-04:00Journal Prompt :: Day 44<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spend five minutes writing. Set your timer and go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>Which song speaks most to your heart today? What song is your anthem??? (It can be a chart-topper, old hymn, something you heard when you were younger, etc.)</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhthiak_VhPzOheWK4wHwHxkn2fOwKD-v-17emIT_XY3BorubyJb3zSiaweFWWi1BrrSlguu-kwPo_v7yVlaBLDWJwxMqOW80zZkscaLM53XRqtfx96QvIkpWZRUIJxv2AYA0K8mJtiCUI/s1600/e09b85471ed7a2590c8bb65ba7ea3358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhthiak_VhPzOheWK4wHwHxkn2fOwKD-v-17emIT_XY3BorubyJb3zSiaweFWWi1BrrSlguu-kwPo_v7yVlaBLDWJwxMqOW80zZkscaLM53XRqtfx96QvIkpWZRUIJxv2AYA0K8mJtiCUI/s320/e09b85471ed7a2590c8bb65ba7ea3358.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08633460375779338413noreply@blogger.com0