10k Sucking energy, Medals and Jamba Juice

I just couldn't get them to smile and look at me at the same time... This was the best we could do... Asher, finally told me it was embarrassing and we needed to stop.

The boys were so excited for their race.  Aiden wanted to come too, but Josh was sick and I just wasn't brave enough to bring three boys to a race on my own...we'll have to try again at a different race to have all three boys run... run, being a word and term I use very loosely here.  It was a lot shorter than I thought it would be and Asher, was tugging on one arm the whole time very frantically and impatiently urging us to run faster, "we're going to lose the race!"  He felt that the race might not be worth it if we didn't cross the finish line first... I tried to explain that it didn't matter, there were too many people (ie: we would have needed a good crowd separator to get through... Andre the Giant anyone?  "Everybody Move!"), and we didn't have a timing chip... but none of that matters to a little boy who just wants to prove himself.  Isaac on the other hand, literally, was tugging me to just stop and maybe sit down, or possibly carry me please, because "I'm too tired!"  which only spurred on Asher's anxiety about losing the race.  I almost gave up with my polar opposite near tantruming boys... instead, I kept dragging Isaac and tried to console Asher and keep him interested in just having fun.  It was amazing how everything changed once we crossed the finish line.

Exploring

Once they had their ribbons and medals and a jamba juice in their hands the whole ordeal, suddenly became worth it.  In fact, Asher hid his medal under his sunday shirt and showed it off to his friends there.  It's interesting what we find to be vital to our importance and value as a person.  I'm just stinking proud of both of them and looking forward to trying to be healthier with all my boys.  (Josh included! :) ).



What I loved about my race:
1. I loved seeing the sun rise, I don't see that often enough.  I love the quiet serenity of the morning
2.  I love the people.  Runners are usually a different breed of people, and it seems that interesting things seem to happen when I'm out running.  This time, it was a woman who started talking to me and sharing important, personal details about here life at the starting line.  She was divorced, living with her mother, raising her daughter on her own because she had caught her ex-husband doing drugs.  While it's a strange thing to have someone admit to you... and even more difficult for me because I wasn't sure what to say... I admired her strength and determination to be strong and help her daughter to have a strong and healthy life.
3.  No matter how much pain I'm in... and no matter how much I might not like it at the time... I do like the battle... the battle of mind and spirit over body... pushing yourself, even when you feel like sitting down.  And I did.  Want to sit down.  But I didn't.  Sit down or stop.  This race might have been more difficult, mentally, than my 1/2 marathon.  Maybe it was because shorter races equal faster paces, faster pace... it's just not something I'm great at.  And my stomach hurt, all of it.  And I could tell I hadn't done my training well, my body did not feel strong at all... it felt flimsy and weak.  (speaking of, I really need to go and exercise so my 1/2 marathon doesn't feel this bad!!!) But, like I said... I like the battle... I may not have done exactly how I wanted... but I feel like I gave a good fight... and that's good enough for me right now.

I loved that there were families and friends everywhere, supporting each other.  It was great!

4.  I loved that there is such a variety of people.  Sometimes it's so easy to say, that type of person can run, or dance, or sing, or jump, or play basketball/any sport and that type can't.. but with running... it takes ALL body types and ALL fitness levels... You don't have to be a certain body type to work at being healthy and finish a race.  It really is an open door sort of sport.  I like/love that.  It's inspiring.
5.  I love Jamba Juice and medals hanging on a ribbon.  The Jamba Juice and medal, really did make the race worth it.  I asked Asher and Isaac if they would run another race if they knew they would get another medal and Jamba Juice, to which the emphatically told me yes!  I asked them if they would run even if they didn't get the medal and Jamba Juice...  and no, no running unless there's an award.

Jamba Juice and a medal

What I didn't love about my race:
1.  So many people, sucking the energy out of me when they passed me.  I believe it's a thing... probably has something to do with an unknown physics law, that when you get passed or you pass somebody there is a transferal of energy that goes to the passee.  I try to ignore it.  I try to be okay that the marathoner who started his race hours ago is doing better than I am and passing me.  I try to be okay that the limping lady is faster than I am... it's okay... it's okay.  Or the guy hacking out his lungs.  Or the pregnant lady.... like I said.  It's inspiring right?



Weirdest thing that happened.
1.  I saw someone smoking at the starting line.  It' not a judgement call, smoke if you want... but something about smoking, lungs and running  just doesn't make sense.  That's just me.

Wanting to win the race

Long Walk

I took a long walk with my boys today.  Asher walked almost the whole 3.5 miles.  Isaac, had little to no motivation so he sat in the wagon I was pulling around and ate his peanut butter and honey sandwich.  And Aiden was trying really hard to be a mini Asher... but his little 2 year old body isn't cut out for it.  I, I got a bad sunburn.  Of course, I didn't have a camera... mine has gone through at least a few years of heavy duty use... it's become fragile and cumbersome... and if I'm honest, I lose the important parts of it like the battery charger or the memory cards all the time.  I probably shouldn't try to excuse myself too much.  I need to bring my camera so I can capture all the little moments... good and bad.  I want to start making this a part of our daily life.... or as daily as possible.  It's time to get a better bike for Asher, fix up my stroller and just head up into the beautiful Hobble Creek Canyon to spend an afternoon making memories!  Eventually, maybe we'll all ride bikes up there... but the streets are busy enough to be scary and I'm just going to take it one boy at a time learning how to be safe on the road!  It's possible in another life I was a chicken... or maybe it's just the sane mother in me wanting to keep some sort of control over her children's safety.


Yesterday, I was near breakdown mode.  I ran out of my vitamins I'm using to treat the depression and anxiety.  It was awful feeling so dark and black... knowing it was a mere chemical imbalance... but it didn't change how my body and mind felt.  I made myself do some yoga.  Which, strangely, the immediate effect was that I wanted to cry.  Or write.  I've always wanted to write in the midst of my crashes... thinking it would be therapeutic for me and for others to know they aren't alone.  But.  It's so not easy to share yourself when you are at your worst.  Especially since, I don't want sympathy.  I don't want to come off as someone who is deeply pessimistic, who only sees the dark side of things (but let's be honest, in the middle of depression you're world changes colors... light for obscurity).  Well, I'm not sure if it was the Vitamin Bs (Solaray Mega B-Stress, taken morning and night) my mom asked me to take while I wait for my other vitamins or if it was the yoga, or something else... but today, I felt so much better!  It's like stepping into the light.  It's so much easier to participate in life and get outside and exercise and I'm so happy I was able to do it with my little loves... like I said, I just wish I could have taken a picture of it.

Also, I love working out with Jillian... I've had other workouts that I felt made a difference... but nothing has been as effective as winning it with the Biggest Looser star!  I'm going to hurt tomorrow!

Reboot

You may or may not have noticed the lack of posts these past few... has it been weeks? The reason?  I'm not sure why.  But I did have a small depressive crash.  It was just a few days, but it was enough to throw my groove off.  I was able to keep up with getting ready for my 1/2 marathon... yay!  But eating like I wanted to went out the window of my speeding semi truck of self indulgence.  My easy lapse made it difficult to want to hold myself accountable here on the internet.  But I've chosen public accountability so that I could be some sort of example.  The kind of example that falls down, makes mistakes and then tries to get back up again.  If you're coming here to see Mrs. Perfection, she is not here.

But I've always thought that's what makes us impressive as humans; falling down and getting back up again, trying to do the best thing.  I'll tell you what though.  It isn't easy.  It's so easy to feel ashamed, to feel like you've already made a mistake so why not go whole hog (ie:  I just ate one piece of candy so now I might as well eat the whole bag, although I'm sure there are other examples we could use).

What I struggled with the most... hmmm... most.... as I write it, I start thinking about everything else that fits under the category of most, biggest, darkest struggles and, okay... it's not the most... but it's one of those battles that just keeps coming back at ya, and sometimes you can look it square in the face and say... you've already been won and other times you just want to cry out, why????

It's so difficult, I believe, as women, to settle the messages that the media sends us.  On one hand we see beautifully sculpted (often photo-shopped) women, and we've been conditioned to believe that this is what a truly beautiful woman looks like and if you don't look the same... well.... you're part of a different party (that still rocks!)

Then we have the other camp who wants us to embrace ourselves as we are.  Love ourselves in the skin we are in, no matter how big or small.  And I agree.  

But it turns into an internal battle when I look in the mirror and don't see what I want to see or I weigh myself and I haven't lost the weight I've wanted to.  Working as hard as I feel I'm working, I want to see results.  Heck!  I wanted to see results after my first day back running... but to go day after day and not see what I want to see change. It's irritating and depressing.

And then I feel guilt.  I shouldn't have eaten what I ate.  Ugh.  I should just love myself the way that I am.  What's really important is to just be healthy and love yourself no matter what shape or form your body is in.  Just love yourself.

BUT

 I just want to rock in my body made of steel and be as light as a feather.  And then I'll forgive myself.

Hello, impossible.  

I don't expect myself to ever be perfect, but I have my own ideal of how I want my body to be.  And it's not there.  I would like to believe that that ideal isn't shaped by society/the media... but I think I would by lying to myself if I did.   But while I may have been trained to believe things about my body and perfection... I believe that I'm choosing my own path... I will never look like a photo-shopped model... or even a true un-photo-shopped model.  And I'm okay with that.   I just want to be the best that I see in myself.  And when I'm not there, there's a battle.  A battle between wanting to be there and just loving me and the skin that I"m in.

Always, the best thing is just to love and forgive.

So, here's to loving ourselves, others and God (I believe you need all three to be truly happy).

And here to always, always getting back up again, dusting yourself of and learning from your mistakes.  Let go and love yourself. Shame destroys and is one of the worst motivators you can find... so, let it go.  There, there's the pep talk I'm giving myself and anyone else who wants it.

Here's to the reboot.  Adding one new healthy habit at a time.