running

Holler Out to the Masses

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It has been almost two months since I updated my blog. No excuses. It is what it is (I detest that statement with a vengeance, by the way).

First of all, no one should let 16 year olds drive. They are like little babies. And they don’t have full prefrontal cortex development at all. And sometimes they say things like, “Well, I thought it was a trashcan, so I just kept backing up.” As if backing into a trash can is okay (But seriously, I’d take it over backing into a car which is what the supposed-trashcan actually was). The kid is a safe driver, just don’t let him drive backwards. He’s the opposite of Mater (that’s a reference to Cars, which is ironic because when he was a baby we watched that movie approximately 7 million times, so you think backwards driving would be where it’s at).

I’m losing weight and taking names. And running. And walking. And also I still feel tired. I mean, I went to Target with the kids, ate out on the patio, and did a quick tour of the Polk cabins, and I felt like I had been run over by a truck. I’m guessing this is what happens when you have been sitting home for a year and decide to venture back into the real world. As an aside, do you remember when we all said, ‘When I’m in the real world, things will be xyz.” I actually told my son something the other day and said, “When you’re in the real world,” as if the world he’s living in is not real.

The world he’s living in is TOO real. Our kids have so much stress. They are resilient beyond measure. He keeps telling me I don’t understand, and I don’t. I didn’t have the kind of pressure he has in his life. Shout out to the kids, yo!

That was a giant aside, so back to the losing weight and taking names. I decided a few months back that being a sloth was the pits. I basically only left the couch to pee. I would walk with friends, but most days I spent in bed, on the computer working, or generally not doing much. So I got to moving again. I started running and not worrying about my pace, just moving my body. I’m running about 4 times a week now. I run 3-5 miles depending on the day. I have a running buddy some days, and I go by myself some days. I sometimes sing to myself out-loud while running, so people smile and laugh at me. Good times. I really love this time of year when it’s cool in the morning, and spring is coming, and it’s warmer in the afternoon. I love exploring the neighborhoods near me by foot. I forgot how much running meant to me and how good it was for my mental health. When I start doing it, I start feeling happier. I’m a better parent, better wife, and generally a better and happier person. And I don’t even go fast. I probably do what most people consider jogging, but whatevs. I do it for me.

I wanted to write more, and I had this great idea to write about a world in which soulmates are determined through a program. And then guess what? In my many hours of binging Netflix and other streaming services (of which I pay for too many), I saw this show called One which is about exactly that. I am hoping one day soon to get back to novel-writing or at least short story writing or some form of writing. I love the way I feel when I write, just like when I run, so why do I fight it so much?

Anyway, we are getting ready to see family soon, which is so exciting because it has been so long. It’s amazing the perspective a 1 year pandemic puts into your life. It makes you look at your priorities, and change them. I feel this year has made me grow as a person. Probably COVID-19 coupled with the fact I’m now 40+. It’s true what people say about being over 40–you start not giving a shit about what other people think. You really come into your own. I am so much better at establishing boundaries than I was even two years ago, and at knowing what I want, and generally being satisfied with life. It’s crazy that it takes human beings almost half of their life to feel this way (or at least this human being). This has been some lifelong work.

Also, here is a picture of my dog Jazz. She’s awesome, and honestly once the hubs and I aren’t working from home anymore I’m not sure if she’ll be okay (she has a brother, Skippy, who is equally as awesome but doesn’t really like his photo taken).

My dog is cute.

Signing off.

Lauren

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Things I think while running

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I started running again. Or attempting to run. I’m really walk/running at this point. But it’s an effort, and honestly I had not been making much of an effort before mid-December. I went to the doctor, and I was diagnosed with high blood pressure. It’s familial, and honestly it’s not even that high yet, but high enough for me to decide to get my butt in shape.

I’ve been running with a friend, who coincidentally moved to Charlotte from Montgomery a few years before me and lives in the neighborhood across the street from me. Life is random sometimes.

So what do I think while I’m running. Here’s a list:

  • The Very Beginning: This feels great! My body is strong!
  • About 5 Seconds Later: Well, now I feel like I’m running on my left leg wrong.
  • Telling myself to Settle and think: Why can’t I run on my toes?
  • Hyper-focusing on breathing, which makes me feel like I can’t breathe: Am I chest breathing? I need to belly breathe.
  • Questioning if my body is falling apart now that I’m over 40: What’s up with my left leg?
  • Almost to a mile and thinking about correct form and breathing techniques: Am I alternating each breath with each footstep?
  • One Mile In: Wow–done with mile 1 already. I’ll stop and walk for a few minutes
  • Start running 2nd mile: Why is this so hard? Have I been running forever? Everything hurts. I have 1,000 miles more to go to get to the 3rd mile.
  • Sail down a hill — Wow — I’m an awesome runner. I can go so fast. I’m a Gazelle! Look at me!
  • Struggle to run uphill — Why am I even doing this? Running is hard! I hate this. Hills are terrible. Who even made hills?
  • Hit the 3rd mile — yes! Almost done.
  • Run/walk/run/walk — why can’t I just run the whole time?
  • Finish 3rd Mile: 3 miles is so easy. I bet I could do 6!

Deep thoughts during a run. I try to get myself to settle, and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Breathing has always been my problem. I guess this is because I have asthma, and therefore not being able to breathe can sometimes be a big deal for me.

I love the feeling after a run. It’s like I have just conquered so much, and it makes it all worth it. Sometimes on runs I come up with ideas for writing too. I need that right now, since I have had a writer’s block and really have not been producing much work. I had an idea during a run the other day, and I think I will start working on it. Not sure if it will be a short story or a novel, but here’s hoping I can get some words on paper.

Today, after my run, I saw this beautiful sight when I rounded the corner. The clouds pulling away and the moon shining bright like a beacon. A reminder that there is always something beautiful after the storm.

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Seas The Day

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First a completely unrelated anecdotal story. Last night, Rob and I went to bed sort of early. Our daughter, H, is a non-sleeper. She’s 10. We used to call her Vampire Chicken Princess — it’s a long story. Anyway, she has been decidedly sleeping on our floor since we moved to Charlotte. We want to start locking the doors.

Imagine it. 2 AM. Sleeping soundly. Dreaming of hot men or ice cream, or whatever floats your boat in a dream. All of a sudden, the light goes on and someone screams, and Rob and I sit straight up and both start screaming, looking back and forth at each other, and then realizing it’s H. I’m guessing she was sleep walking. No idea.

Seas The Day. Seize The Day. Carpe Diem. What does it mean? Certainly not starting your day by waking up screaming at 2 AM.

I began running attempting to run again. The other day, I ran at the greenway, and the whole time I huffed and puffed. I see other runners, and they look like it’s the easiest thing to breathe and run. I can tell you–it is not. Sometimes, they’re not even breaking a sweat. I think these non-breakers of sweat must be some type of new super heroes or something. I certainly do not fit in the same category.

Even though I’m slow and sound like I’m drying when I run, I get a lot out of it. For one thing, it helps me clear my head. When I run, my mind catalogs thoughts and ideas. I notice flowers, trees in blooms, and also the sound of the death rattle in my lungs (ha ha, just kidding). So the other day, when I was jogging, walk/running, dying, I looked over at the fence and found this Seas The Day rock. My first thought: that pun reminds me of my dad. My second thought: Seize the Day.

What does it mean to seize the day? To make the most of the present moment. The present is a present. I think during these COVID-19 times, I have thought a lot about my past and the future. The future is so uncertain that it can leave me feeling hazy. It is hard not to look at the future when the whole world as-we-know-it seems to be falling apart. And the past. The past just haunts you. It is good to have nostalgia sometimes, but it’s not good to dwell.

As humans, I think we are always looking for more, more, more. We look to our past to teach us about the present, but sometimes we get lost in the rose-colored tint of our memories which are often mixed with imagination. Our memories can lie to us. They can tell us something was so wonderful or perfect when, indeed, it wasn’t.

Thinking too much about the future makes you forget about today. I confess, I am one of those people who gets lost in the past and making plans for the future. I try to live in the present, and since COVID-19 I have been better about it. It is easy to take life and people for granted, but this whole experience has put a lot into perspective for me.

I miss my parents and not being able to see them. I did not realize how much seeing them once a week really brought balance to my life. I am throughly enjoying my time with my kids. And for their part, they have been pretty good. They do chores, almost regularly, and there have been very few fights where I thought one of them might kill the other. I call that a victory. These are precious moments in their lives and mine that I will look back on and think of fondly one day.

Seize the Day. Remember the present rapidly becomes the past. Don’t get caught looking back too much and miss what’s happening right in front of you. When you focus on the present you make way for a better future.

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Not__________Enough

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Not pretty enough. Not skinny enough. Not smart enough. Not fast enough. Not talented enough. Not good enough.

Little Lauren

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve felt like I’m not enough. These are the mantras I’ve told myself about myself for years. Self-doubt and a crisis of confidence have haunted my life. I am not sure why, but from an early age I felt a little less than. Part of it was the alopecia and not knowing how to deal with it. I mean, my mom brushed and put barrettes in my hair to hide my bald spots until I turned twelve. Part of that hiding made me hide who I truly was, probably even from myself.

I think for a lot of my life I have been scared to tell people what I really think or who I am. I am sure this has impacted my friendships and relationships. I’ve been scared to assert myself (my husband would disagree with this, and probably my children too because I’m comfortable around them). I told myself to just be kind and people would like me. But sometimes being kind means getting stepped on and not being true to yourself. There is a middle ground for sure.

I told myself a lot of negative messages about myself, while assigning perfection to other people who probably tell themselves a lot of these same messages too.

Not skinny enough. I always had an athletic build in high school–I played tennis and it was pretty much my life. After high school, I packed on the pounds. Freshman 15? More like Freshman 45! I have always struggled with my weight and let it define me. And why? Weight has nothing to do with my talents or my personality, but people do look at weight and judge a person. I have done it myself–looked at an obese person and wondered how they got there. And I’m not skinny, so that ain’t fair at all!

Not smart enough. As a kid, I went to one of the most prestigious schools in Montgomery, Alabama. I felt like a complete idiot. Everyone there seemed smarter than me. I struggled, especially in math, and was so embarrassed by this that I often hid my grades from my parents. I also had two older sisters at the school who seemed to do fine. Of course, one of my sisters studied her butt off, and I never did that–I sort of had this fly by the seat of the pants attitude about life. And it ended up working for me…until it didn’t.

Not talented enough. I have always loved to write. As a kid, I wrote these long stories mostly about people growing up in the Civil War Days. I had a huge obsession with Abraham Lincoln and triplets. I wrote most of my childhood, but I never felt talented enough to turn the writing into anything. I let other people’s ideas of what I should do influence me. I felt like my writing talent was not enough to make anything substantial. I told myself this even when I published a book, and after that book went out of print.

Not fast enough. A few years back, my sisters decided we would all run a half-marathon together. I said, “Thanks, but no thanks. I do not run.” Well, sibling pressure is real, y’all. I ended up training for 20 weeks, hurting my foot, you name it, but competed and finished the Nashville Rock ‘n’ Roll half-marathon. But I’ve never been fast. I trained all that time and still had trouble with pacing, keeping up with my sisters, and increasing my time. I told myself I wasn’t fast enough to be a real runner.

Not pretty enough. I have never looked at myself and thought I was pretty. As a child, I struggled a lot with self-image. I had alopecia, and kids made fun of and bullied me. I struggled a lot to look in the mirror and think the person looking back at me might be beautiful. Everyone always told me I had a beautiful smile. But I just couldn’t see what people saw in me. And when I lost all my hair nine years ago, I struggled again. I had a hard time confronting the emotions that came with that loss, and thinking that grieving the loss of my hair might make me self-centered or something like that. I rolled with the punches. I told people about alopecia. I feigned feeling confident. Fake it ’til you make it, right?

So how do you go about changing the not enough into a great big ENOUGH? Start changing the mental dialogue. It takes practice, and sometimes I fall into the same pattern of telling myself I’m not enough.

When I look in the mirror now, I try to think about how easy it is not to have to deal with hair. I can go bald, and I don’t use that much shampoo. When I run, I think about how strong my body is getting. I think that speed doesn’t matter as long as I’m continuing to run the race. When I write, I can acknowledge my talent. I had to stop thinking about what other people might be thinking of me, and start thinking about what I should and could tell myself.

SMART ENOUGH. PRETTY ENOUGH. FAST ENOUGH.

TALENTED ENOUGH.

Still not really skinny enough, but hey I’m working on it.

GOOD ENOUGH

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Discipline

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Lately, the question I hate to hear is, “So how’s your writing going?” This question makes me cringe. This question reminds me that my writing is not going. Yes, I’ve started a hundred things. Like a monster, I leave my characters waiting to feel complete. Because that’s all we ever want, right? A feeling of completeness. But lately I’ve been feeling likeI lack the discipline to be a writer. I’ve been second guessing myself.

I randomly applied to a flash fiction contest for a magazine. I was rejected. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t cry. I thought, “Well, there’s always next time.” But I know there won’t be a next time if I don’t write. I need to find direction. I love writing shorts, but I don’t think I can tell a whole story in a short story. I love writing long, but the muddle in the middle bogs me down and makes me want to stop. I have a love/hate relationship with writing. I need to do it, because it makes me feel complete, fulfilled, and most of all happy and content. But sometimes I hate to do it, or I hate how much it haunts me when I’m not doing it.

When I was writing, really writing, my brain filled up with so many ideas I could barely keep up. Now I don’t even have blog ideas. I had people telling me how I inspired them. Getting up at 4 in the morning to write, then dealing with kids, coming to a full time job, having a kid on a gymnastics team. Where was the time? But if I’ve learned anything about myself it’s that I’m a better writer when I’m busy. I’m a better writer when I have to squeeze it in. I’m also a better writer when I’m a runner.

Lately, I’ve been training for another half marathon. Yeah, I think I said I’d never do one again, but I changed my mind. The truth is, running helps me keep the weight off, even if it doesn’t help me lose weight (Lord—I wish it did—I feel like I will never get rid of this extra 15 lbs). And running helps center me. I listen to music, but it’s really just a beat, and my mind sorts out problems. Ideas come and go, and they don’t stick, but it does something to my brain. It makes my brain more creative. All the problem solving that comes while my feet are hitting the pavement shows up in the form of writing.

And running is a form of discipline. There are times when I’m running and I feel like stopping. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I stop, and I turn around, and I walk to the house. Sometimes when I do that I feel defeated by myself. Mad at myself. Sometimes I feel okay, because I listened to my body. And there are times when I’m running where I push through. I slow down and then I speed up again, and I achieve my goal of completing the run. These are the times I think I can apply to writing. Pushing through the times where the story feels like it’s going nowhere by just writing some crap-words on paper and getting to the next good part. I need to learn how to apply the discipline I have in my running to my writing. Because we all know that without hard work, we don’t get anywhere. Without the hours of sweat and toil, and manuscripts tossed aside, I would never be published.

So for the next few months, I’m going to work on bringing discipline back to my life, not only with my running but with my writing. I started by joining a MOOC over at www.novoed.com called How Writer’s Write Fiction: Storied Women Writers. I’m hoping this will get me started again and allow me to finish something, then revise, then submit, and then hopefully, one day, publish again.

Weekly Goals June 17-25

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Today is June 17th. First of all, I’m going to report on how I did on last week’s goals. Then I’m going to assign new goals. And I’m going to let you know that I’m having a vacation week from June 25th-July 1st, so there won’t be goals that week.

Exercise

  • Run 4 miles on Friday, June 10 — I achieved this. I went to the Y and ran on the treadmill.
  • Run 6 miles on Saturday, June 11th. Try to keep up with my running partner who has suddenly become a speed demon. I ran. But I also walked. I struggled with the heat.
  • Sunday is a day of rest (I think this was duly noted somewhere thousands of years ago) I rested! And swam.
  • Glide on Monday, Yoga Tuesday, Glide Wednesday, Thursday short run, start over Friday — I screwed up in this department. I did Glide Monday, 2 mile run Tuesday, and then Glide on Thursday. I had lots going on this week, so I didn’t get to the gym as much as I wanted, and the heat and the humidity outside was too much for me.

Food , Drink, Weight

  • No alcohol on weekdays.I was doing so well, until last night. I had wine with my childhood girlfriends. It was worth it.
  • Eat more fruits and veggies Done!
  • Less chocolate Done!
  • No chips from my chip-pusher James.James didn’t bring chips! I didn’t eat ANY this week.
  • Strive to lose 1 lb per week until I hit my goal weight (12 lbs to lose) I lost 2.8 lbs this week. 
  • Write every day – I’m done with setting word limits, because sometimes I do less and sometimes I do more, but I find creativity flows better when I write at least a little bit every day. Blogs count too.– Achieved. 

So here are my goals for this week:

Exercise

  • Yoga tomorrow at the lake with my friends! And I may run if I get up early enough. If not, oh well.
  • Sunday-rest and recovery.
  • Monday – Glide
  • Tuesday – run AM – 2-3 miles/Glide Lunch
  • Wednesday – rest
  • Thursday — Glide at lunch or run the treadmill (2-3 miles)
  • Friday – rest

My food, drink, weight goals are the same as last week:

  • Fruits and veggies
  • No alcohol on weekdays
  • Less chocolate
  • No chips on weekdays (I may eat some this weekend, but anything goes then!)

Writing

  • Come up with a plan
  • Finish editing Little Birdhouses or at least work on it SOME.
  • Finish 2nd girl in the Daniel series and start 3rd.

I hope everyone has a great weekend and that you set and achieve some awesome goals in the following week! Let me know your goals for the upcoming week/month/year are!

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I’m A Finisher!

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This weekend I did something I never thought I’d do. A few years ago, I never would have been capable of this. I wouldn’t have had the confidence to try. Eff that shit! I’m a half-marathon runner now! How things change!

My sisters and I decided in November to run the 2016 Rock ‘n Roll Half Marathon in Nashville, Tennessee. This race is huge, like 30,000 people. If you haven’t read my updates from before, I suffered a stress fracture at the end of February. It derailed my training until the first week of April. I went into this half feeling nervous, unprepared, and afraid of the hills.

We arrived on Friday night, and my sisters and I hung out and talked, and tried to calm our nerves. We ate a huge carby meal of spaghetti with meatballs then went to bed. When we woke up in the morning, we discovered the rain threat we were worried about the day before was gone. All our weather apps said it was cloudy with 0% chance of rain.

So how come there was rain when we arrived at the race?

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I have a tendency to make my eyes huge and crazy when I smile big for pictures!

I wasn’t so nervous at this point. It also helped that I kept getting texts saying the race was delayed because of “weather conditions.” I never heard the thunder, but apparently it was in the vicinity. So, we all waited.

And then we made our way to our corrals. When we got to the drop off point for my sisters, corral 25, Allison started crying. She was so emotional. There were like 30,000 people, and the first few corrals had already started by the time we arrived to ours. Plus, before you run a half your heart is beating fast and your stomach is in your throat. You have about a million emotions coursing through you. Kelsey, Allison and I hugged. I’m so happy I decided to do this with my sisters. It has brought us so much closer over the last year. What an amazing accomplishment to achieve together. I’ll remember this moment for the rest of my life.

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Then I walked my butt back to the 2:50 time at corral 35. I’d decided to start further back, because I was worried about my foot. And at the corral, I met a lovely girl to run with part of the time. And hung out with 20,000ish people.

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We slowly made our way forward to the start line. My heart beat fast. I was scared, but also psyched, because I knew that after a few hours of running I’d be a half-marathon runner, and it would be over. Plus there were tacos and beer after the finish line, and then an awesome party at Paige’s house. I wanted to run for the beer! (We ate at Mas Tacos afterwards — if you’re in Nashville check it out. Delish!)

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My corral is next!

Then the run started. And let me tell you. It was HARD. Hills for days. And Montgomery doesn’t have many hills or hills so high and long. My parents parked at almost mile 3 and then coming back they were at almost mile 8. And when I saw them the first time the thing that flew out of my mouth was, “This is so hard!” My mom worried about me after that. But I kept going. The hardest part seemed to be finding my stride. There were so many people, I had to weave around a lot, and my breathing was off because of the humidity that set in after the rain started. I did okay for the first 6 miles, keeping my min/miles below 12, but after 6 I had to start walk/running a lot. At mile 7, I stopped and hugged my dad and told him my hip hurt, and that it was hard, and I felt like crying. But his hug gave me energy, and I took off for a few more minutes, until the next hill showed up.

The worst part of the whole race was the hill at mile 12.5. I mean, who does that? But I snapped this great picture of one of the signs The signs were hilarious! There was one that said WTF (Where’s the Finish?). And the Trump signs too: Run Like Trump is President and If Trump Can Run, Then So Can You! (I wish I’d snapped pictures of those!)

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Even the marathon runners hated THAT hill. On the hill, my friend of a lifetime, Andrea sat with her husband, so I pushed up and past her and then yelled back to her, “I had to run past you, but now I’m going to walk!” And we both laughed.

Then coming to mile 13, we had a downhill, and all I could think about was the beer I’d get to drink in just a few minutes and why there had to be a stupid .1 tacked onto a half-marathon. I thought I’d cry going over the finish line, but I didn’t. I felt euphoric. And the runner’s high didn’t wear off all day. I finished in 2:50:34 according to their clocks. (That included a potty break that Runkeeper timed as 1.5 minutes). And Runkeeper stated I ran 13.82 miles in 2:48. This is because I didn’t run the tangents, and the weaving adds mileage to your run, so no 13.1 is actually 13.1 unless you’re a pro at running tangents. In this race it would have been impossible, with all the walkers and the runners. It was so crowded.

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My proudest achievement

Overall, this was a great experience. And the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. To run a half-marathon you have to have perseverance and fortitude. And for me, it helped that I had my sisters and my parents support along the way. I couldn’t wait to have my beer, hug my sisters, and tell them how proud I was of them! What an amazing achievement. If you’re thinking of running a half, go for it! Maybe start with a flatter half, but the Nashville half was super fun and I’d recommend it!

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My sisters and I enjoying a beer after the run

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Countdown

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Five days until the half-marathon. It’s crazy, because forever I felt like it was far away. And here it is. And I don’t feel ready. I mean, I can run 12 miles. Or at least walk/run and feel like I’m dying with my breathing or possibly my legs might fall off. The thing I’m most worried about is the heat and humidity. It’s supposed to be 90 degrees in Nashville on Saturday. The thing I’m looking forward to most is seeing my sisters. I love how this journey has brought us closer this year. We are all striving to do the same thing, and the common goal has brought us together. That’s pretty awesome if you think about it.

I haven’t been writing, and last week I didn’t even blog. I have been soul searching a little bit. (Of course, because don’t I always?) This week, my eleven year old told me that maybe he didn’t want to do gymnastics next year. And when I asked him why he said, “Because it’s gotten hard and it’s not as fun as it used to be.” In all my wisdom I said, “Well, if you want to quit you can. It’s your choice. But you have to make sure you’re quitting for the right reason. Are you quitting because it’s hard and you don’t like hard work? Or are you quitting because you’re ready to try something else?”

And then I went for a run with Sean on Saturday morning, and the first 2 miles were fucking amazing. Fast. And then I said I wanted to walk. And we walked/ran the last 2 miles. On the way home in the car I complained about running the half again. “Why the hell am I even doing this? It’s so stupid.” And Sean said, “You may have a bit of Caden in you. You want to quit when it gets hard.”

And he was right: I do. I’ve always had a huge amount of motivation, and I get to a certain point and then I just don’t feel like doing it anymore. So this weekend I was thinking of that in terms of my writing instead of my running. I’ve been in a funk. I started a difficult novel. And I’m 30,000 words in, and I’m stuck. But the thing is–I know what’s going to happen and how to finish it but writing it is hard. It’s hard for a million reasons, because of emotions, and the voice, and all the shit that will make it good in the end. And I also think that’s why I’ve had a hard time editing Little Birdhouses. I’ve always been the type of person who sets a goal, finishes something, then moves on to the next big thing. But I don’t want to be like that with my writing. I want to make it a lifetime of work. I want to work through the discomfort. I want to get to the end and really have produced something amazing that readers can relate to. I want to query, live through the rejection, and, eventually, become a famous writer. I have this incredible talent and this amazing dream, but I can tell you I’m never going to get there if my attitude is the same as it’s been the last few months. No one ever gets anywhere by not working hard and giving up before they’ve reached the finish line.

It’s funny, because after my talk with my running buddy on Saturday I went running with my girlfriends on Sunday morning and I had all this incredible energy. I think I could have finished the half marathon easily that day. My attitude had changed, and I felt like I’d just push through. Now if only I could apply that to my writing.

Innately, I know that success comes from hard work, and part of the feeling of accomplishment is working hard to get there. But in reality, putting that into practice is difficult for me. And yes, I know I have lots of valid excuses: three kids, husband, day job, and PTA, but in the end I need those factors to motivate me instead of serving as a roadblock to my success.

Suggestions are welcome. Do you feel like you hold yourself back from achieving your dreams?

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Weekend Wonder

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I had one of those amazing weekends. Of course the weather helped. In the 70s. No humidity. Sun shining in a blue sky. No clouds. Plus, I finished my part of the yearbook, and it seemed like a huge weight off my shoulders.

I went into the weekend feeling a bit over-scheduled, but it ended up working perfectly. I had two book clubs to attend and discuss my books. The first book club met and discussed No Turning Back. I felt a little worried, because I hadn’t done a book club on this book. I self-published No Turning Back six months before The Devil Within, and it is not professionally edited. Part of me wanted to pull it off Amazon, but I do like the story. As a novice writer, many mistakes are made and not having the story edited was mine. I can, at some point, remove the story, have it edited and put it back out there, but at this point I’ve moved on and have bigger fish to fry (cliché).

The book club went off without a hitch though. It was at my neighbor’s house, and as usual I met some interesting people. I also met some women who are writers themselves. I always love meeting writers who are looking to start out in the business. It’s so motivational and inspirational to see others on the same journey as I am. Plus, at this point I have some knowledge I can impart to them because when you’re first starting out the process of getting published seems big and overwhelming

After the Saturday book club, we had a grilling extravaganza at our house. Rob made one of our friend’s famous rib recipes, and they tasted great. All the kids had fun playing outside in the sunshine, and of course we had a good time eating and drinking too much. I fell into bed feeling happy, content and loved. Isn’t that the best feeling?

On Sunday, I had a goal to run 9 miles. I’m still training for the half marathon, but my training derailed with my stress fracture. I’d gone to Montgomery Multisport and met with Malcolm about my shoes the weekend before, because I really think my Saucony Ride 7s were not the shoes for me. They aggravated my stress fracture. I bought new shoes, and Malcolm showed me how to do a runner’s loop. Let me tell you: my feet have never felt so good on a run. They weren’t sliding around or coming up in the back. Apparently I have skinny ankles. The run went well. I had to walk some of it, but my goal was to stay below a 12 minute mile, and I did  (just barely). I listened to Hamilton the Musical, recommended by my sister, and let me just say if you haven’t listened to this you should. What an amazing and tragic life Alexander Hamilton lived.

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Sunday continued to be gorgeous, and I spent some time up at our neighborhood playground with the kids and some new neighborhood friends. Then I had yet another book club meeting on The Devil Within. That book club went well too. I continue to be amazed at the generosity and the interest I receive in book clubs. It’s amazing to meet people who have lived such amazing lives. And I feel like all of these people could contribute to a story about the human existence. We had a great discussion about abuse,  the rigidity of religion in the South, and about the psychology of human beings. I always learn when I attend book clubs, and this time was no different. I think that’s what I enjoy most about them how books can bring people together, and give them a commonality. As a writer, there is nothing better than feeling like your reader can relate to you.

All in all the weekend felt so productive. And I was able to see people I loved and meet people I will grow to love. Who could ask for more?

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Productive Running

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I had a productive weekend, and I feel so good from it. I have a tendency toward lassitude on my weekends at home (thanks to my son for the vocabulary word this weekend). I’m so busy during the week and with travel gymnastics season that when I have a day at home I want to sit around and binge watch Netflix. I may have told you this about a hundred times.

I had a cough last week. The prior weekend, I’d visited my sister and we ran in snow flurries and cold, and I think it set my asthma off. My breathing has been strange, and I have a morning and a night cough, so I took almost a week off from running. Boy, was that discouraging.

Instead of sleeping late on Saturday, I woke up early and went for a run with my running partner Sean.

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EIGHT Miles! The furthest yet. And I didn’t die or cough to death. In fact, it made me feel even more like this half-marathon is doable. I took Gu and water, and I felt fine afterwards. In fact, I came home and after I quit shivering, I took a small nap, then went to run errands with Hubby and the kids. In the afternoon, I played in the backyard with the kids in the sunshine, including football and basketball. I kept going and for once didn’t feel completely exhausted after a long run. What an achievement. Almost as good as writing a book! 😉 And then yesterday, I didn’t even feel sore!

I will say that I worked very hard on changing my attitude this week. I’d been having negative thoughts during my runs like, I can’t do this. This hurts. I want to stop. So I did a Google search on how to motivate myself to keep running when I’m by myself. The consensus seemed to be to have a mantra. And I stole mine from one of those authors: Where the feet go, the mind follows. Any time I feel like quitting, I tell myself this. And it works. It’s amazing how much changing ones thinking from negative to positive can be a motivator.

What was your greatest achievement this weekend?

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