Same blog- new take

I have never been athletic.  In shape? Sure!  Athletic? No.  I studied ballet through school.  As a self-proclaimed "bun head," I took ballet very seriously.  My long lessons and rehearsals left little to no time for much else... let alone sports.  The first organized athletic team I have ever been a part of- was a beer league kickball team.  Even there, I was looked at as non-athletic.  I earned my nickname, Twinkle toes, because of my very slow, bouncy run to first base.  Let's just say, my name and the word athletic are barley mentioned together.

Regardless of my non-athleticness, I have always been fascinated by runners.  I have never been good at running.  In high school I was too scared to run in front of my peers.  I made my mom write a note to my gym teacher to excuse me from running the mandatory mile.  In college, well, I smoked, and I barely woke up before noon.  Most of the time I was too hungover to even walk to the gym, let alone run.  Needless to say, it was really a surprise to friends and family when I started running around age 24. 

Charlottesville is a running town.  People around here spend their weekends outdoors... running, biking, fishing- you get the idea.  They even have a great annual race to support breast cancer, The Charlottesville Women's 4 miler.  You see, my work, Panera Bread, sponsors the race, and donates over 4000 bagels to the runners!  I, being the marketing gal, felt it was not only important to be present at the race, but take it a step further an run in it.  So I began to train.  Little distances at first- run .25 miles, walk .25, run, walk... you get the idea.  I will never forget the first time I ran a mile straight... I was on a trail and I crossed the chalked "1 Mile" marker and I instantly began to cheer and applaud myself...fellow runners looked at me, and were like, "Wow- how far did you run??"  You should have seen their faces when I responded "1 MILE!!"  Yes, not impressive to many, but to me- it was like I had completed a marathon.

Well I finished my first race, the 4 miler.  I even signed up for the next few years... and well I am running it for my 4th time this September.  Ever since I had the twins, running has become more to me than just a way to stay in shape...  It has become my therapy, my meditation, my goal, my alone time,  my release, my way to turn my brain off and just be.  When I first started running, my favorite part was when I was finished, in my car driving home, now I just love running... so much that I have decided to compete in my first half marathon in November.

What the hell does half marathon training have to do with things I've learned- well, that is the thing... A LOT.  I learn so much when I am on a trail.  I learn about myself, my physical and mental limits, my tendencies.  I think about ways to improve, and ways to push myself.  And you know what?  all of these lessons can be applied to my life...


I have begun the rigorous half marathon training. Equipped with a GPS watch (courtesy of the supporting husband), and a strap on water bottle, I took to the trail this past weekend with two fellow running fiends. I ran 7 miles, they ran 8 . I ran about a 10 minute pace, they ran 8 minute pace. I wanted to take a stretch break one mile in, they wanted to keep going... the most important part was we started and finished together. During one of the first few miles, as we were heading uphill, I decided to let the other two runners go ahead because I could not keep their pace. J (his nickname for the sake of this blog), said, "Why make such a rash decision on the uphill climb? Why not wait until the downhill after you recover, then decide?"

Uh... interesting way to put it, J... why do I tend to make rash decisions on an uphill climb? You know the same could be said for life- metaphorically... Why do I tend to make rash decisions on uphill climbs. For example- we have started to explore with potty training. We are not actually potty training yet, just talking about it... A LOT. Well the other day lil monkey, A, sat on the potty for 20 minutes, then got up and peed all over the floor, and cried when he realized he had made a mistake. It was then that I decided, we are not ready for potty training. Rash decision, things were tough, uphill climb. Instead of deciding that they weren't ready in that moment, I should have waited until the recovery (after things were cleaned up, and calmed down) to decide. Note to self- wait until the recovery to decide. Where there is an uphill, there is usually a downhill lurking right around the corner... wait until things are evened out before making any decisions. Well despite my decision to stop potty training, my kids can't wear diapers for the rest of their lives, so we will start again. This time, I will remember to stick with it... where there is an uphill- there will be a downhill.

From one soul to another:)

Momma said there be days like these...

This week started off with a lemon... I lost my wallet.   For anyone who has ever lost their wallet they know it is a pain.  Not a tragedy, just a pain... but like a lot of lemons in life- it can be a bit overwhelming.  You don't even realize how many important things you hold in your wallet until it is gone.  After spending hours on the phone with my bank, credit card companies, health insurance companies, DMV, etc, etc, etc... I finally accepted the reality that I will be up and running again in 7-10 business days. The silver lining is,  I was issued a temporary, printed-off drivers license-so I am not driving illegally. Oh joy. 

Well since the wallet debacle, things really seem to be piling up... little things- nothing extreme- a little annoyance here, and there... but it was enough to take the wind out of my sails, and make me snap.  (Why is it that things always seem to to happen in a series- one thing goes wrong, then another, and another?)  Unfortunately the men in my life they happened to be in my line of fire.  I yelled, stomped, and scared Ty to the point where I swear he wouldn't look at me for a while.  I try not to yell often in front of my monkeys- so I think it took him by surprise.   Then- the guilt set in... and the guilt trip... "I'm a bad mom, I can't manage things, I have too much on my plate, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to overreact, etc, etc."  I called my husband to apologize.  I apologized to my mom and sister who happened to witness my freak out.  I apologized to my little men- who graciously forgave me after a few fruit snacks.  I apologized, and apologized.  

After my rounds of apologies, I was still feeling guilty for my behavior... to which I ask myself- why?  Why do I feel so guilty?  I had a bad day.  It is okay.  People have bad days...I had a bad day, and I needed to yell.  It is okay.  I know it wasn't the best most mature way to deal with the stress, but you know what- IT IS OKAY TO YELL EVERY NOW AND THEN!!!!

People need to vent.  They call it venting for a reason- you are letting off some steam- so you don't blow.  Yelling and stomping was my vent, and guess what... I felt better.  So- the lesson I learned is that every now and then, it is okay to yell, stomp, and blow off steam.  We are human, and by accepting that we are not perfect, and we lose our tempers every now and then, it just may help it happen less.

From One Soul to Another:)
HAAAAAAAAH

Be kind to yourself...

I apologize I haven't posted in a while.  It is not because I am not learning, but rather life got in the way.  I have been really busy going to weddings, baby showers, and being a mom to my two lil monkeys.  I often lay in bed and think, gosh, I should have written about this or that, but I have not found the time to sit down and write.  Naturally, I have beaten myself up for my lack of entries, and in doing so I learned that my negative self talk is unhealthy, and not necessary... all which leads me to me lesson of the day, "Be kind to yourself."

When I was pregnant, I started practicing yoga.  I found it to be a peaceful and harmonious way to strengthen and stretch my growing body.  After I gave birth, I decided that yoga was healthy for not only my physically being but my mental being as well.  It made sense- yoga was a place where I could turn my mind off and focus on my breath.  However, in the beginning of my yoga practice, I found it really hard to turn off my mind and be present.  I would lay in shavasana (rest position- where you lay on your back with your palms to the sky, eyes closed, resting) thinking about my to-do list.  Although I would pretend to be zen, each pose I would self critique and push my body further.   I let the perfectionist side get the best of me.  It wasn't until about 6 months into my yoga practice that I learned the fundamental philosophy behind yoga is non-violence.  Non violence- a practical philosophy, it makes sense... little did I realize that my self critiques were violence to myself- and because I wasn't practicing the basic law of yoga, I wasn't practicing yoga at all.  After that day, I had to let it go.  I had to let go of my negative self talk, and just be- focus on my breath.

Let's face it... we live in a tough world.  A world where the cover of Time Magazine is "Are you mom enough?" and the only way to be "beautiful" is to fit into a size 2.  A world where we feel the need to constantly prove ourselves.  Just the other day, I caught myself boasting about how I had "breastfed my twins for a year."  Yes- that is a great accomplishment, but why do I feel the need to share it?  I was looking for a pat on the back, reformation that I am a good mom... well if I didn't breastfeed for a year, would I not be a good mom?  Absolutely not.  Society puts these hard standards on all of us, and you know what... screw it.  We need to love ourselves.  We need to reassure ourselves that we are good at what we do- whether it be being a mom, or a wife, a friend, whatever...  We need to be nicer to ourselves.  Embrace our flaws, learn from our mistakes, and love ourselves.   We need to be patient, and learn, and grow, and not hold ourselves to society standards, but rather our own personal best.  Why is that so hard to do?

From One Soul to Another:) 

Silence can say so much...

The first thing I do when I wake up is talk... to whomever; my husband, the cat, the coffee maker, myself- I chat.  I talk when I get nervous, anxious, mad, sad, scared... I chat.  I feel the need to fill the air with words.  My chatter is so frequent it often becomes diluted.  I've had the pleasure of meeting people who say so much by saying not much at all.  It is a very powerful feeling to be in the company of someone who does not have the need to fill the air with chatter, but when they decide to talk- their words have such meaning, such purpose.  I am inspired by people like this, and although I cannot relate to how they communicate, I sure can learn something from them.
When I was a teenager, I managed to get myself in to my fair share of trouble.  I will never forget the night my dad picked me up from one of my troublesome situations... I was ready to hear him scream.  I braced myself for his wrath, and held my breath thinking about what I would say to retaliate.  To my surprise, he said nothing at all.  He barely even looked at me.  His disappointment in my actions was so palpable- I could taste it, but he didn't utter a word at all.  I begged him to say something, I even tried to start an argument, but he didn't participate... silence.  It said so much.  I was so disappointed in myself for disappointing him, I wised up very quickly. 

Recently, I found myself in a predicament where I didn't know the right thing to say.  I tried to fill the void- the dead air, with chatter, but realized that my nonsense talk didn't add anything to the situation.  I wanted to support, I wanted to say something to make it all better, but realized that more than anything else- my physical presence was more support than anything I could say.  So I sat in silence.  Although I was uncomfortable, I realized my silence said so much and my physical presence was support enough.  I said what needed to be said without opening my mouth.

From one soul to another-

One foot in front of the other...

Just recently, I was emailing with a co-worker who had just successfully completely his first half marathon. I asked how it went, in which he replied, "you know- there were a lot of hills, but after a while you just put one foot in front of another and eventually you know the finish line will come." I don't why, but his phrase struck a cord with me. Maybe because it is so basic, so logical, but somehow so profound.

Yesterday was a tough day- I'm not going to lie. Both my monkeys were sick, and moody. By seven o'clock , Austin had screamed successfully for an hour straight-- through dinner, bath time, bottle time, and books... By the time Joey finally got home, I was ready to flip my lid. I was actually so flustered at his never ending screaming, I had to take a moment to recompose myself outside. No it wasn't pretty.  If only then- in the heat of the moment- I would have remembered to pace myself. I forgot to put "one foot in front of the other"...rather I stumbled, and the stumbling got worse and worse with each scream. After my moment to myself, I felt remorse. I was sorry I had let him get to me. I was sorry, I, being the adult wasn't capable to take control of the situation and calm him down. I was sorry I let it escalate. Mommy guilt is a pretty shitty thing...  Instead of focusing on the moment, I let the past hour of crying really jade my present attitude. 


You know, after last night I really started thinking about the phrase, "one foot in front of the other,"and it struck me that I need to change my approach to life. So often do I go into new chapters, or events of my life and think of it in its entirety. Rather than breaking it down into manageable steps, I get overwhelmed with the big picture.

For example, just the other day I agreed to go running with a co-worker. We had committed to running a 4 mile trail. At the start of our run, I started feeling anxious about whether or not I would be able to keep up. My heart rate elevated, and instead of finding my rhythm in the present moment, I let the thought of the overall mileage bog me down. Unlike the situation with Austin, it was not the past events (screaming for hours) that bogged me down, it was the future- the miles I had committed to running.  That's when I realized I needed to stop obsessing over what lies behind, and what lies ahead, but be present.  I need to learn to focus on the task at hand. Running at this very moment... Parenting in this breath... putting forth my best effort right now... And knowing that eventually I see the finish line.  Some days the finish line is at the end of a four mile trail, and some days it is 2 sleeping monkeys and a bottle of wine... but I need to rest assure that the finish line will come. 

From One Soul to Another,
Be Present

Everyone has a Battle to Fight...

 I often look at other people, and think "man- if only I could run as fast as her" or "have her hair" or "drive that car" or "live in that house" or "have her confidence" or "have his intelligence" my life would be so much better. 

You know, I think it is human nature to judge one another.  We are constantly trying to put our "best foot forward" to impress one another.  I see it often.  I do it myself.  I will see a mom with kids similar in age to my two monkeys, just breeze into our music class, make-up perfect, wearing a cardigan and pearls... and I think, gosh- she is amazing, how the hell does she look so calm, so relaxed, and able to get dressed and out the door to a music class at 9:15am.  There are some days I sit in the same class, and wonder if I even remembered to brush my teeth!  My instant reaction is to judge.  I judge without even knowing I am judging.  I think, "well she must have a live in nanny, or a stay-at home husband to help her in the morning." I instantly get jealous, and insecure with my own choice of clothes (which rarely includes a cardigan).  I think, gosh she must think I am a mess.  Then I begin to judge her judging me- without even speaking to her.  It is awful to admit.   I watch as my lil monkeys play...so innocent, so non-judgemental, so pure... and I am jolted back into reality, and reminded of what is important.

You know, I am the type of person who puts myself out there.  I wear my heart on my sleeve at all times.  I have no filter.  I am very honest with myself about my insecurities, my vulnerabilities, hell- I even publish it for you all to read.  But I know not everyone is like me.  People are strong.  They walk around with problems- problems I can't even imagine or understand.  I said it before, and I will say it again, people inspire me.  Just recently I was told that a friend of mine, who appears to be like one of those momma's who has it all together, is currently battling something.  Something that I cannot explain in this forum, but it is going to take a lot to beat.  I was shocked.  Unbeknownst to the world around her was preparing for a battle.  In fact she was preparing for her battle rather quietly and bravely as to not disrupt her sweet lil girl's life.  She is strong, and inspiring.

When she shared her secret with me, I was shocked.  It made me  realize I need to stop being so judgemental, and start being grateful.  Grateful for what I do have which is so much.  I need to stop thinking that things are always what they seem, and start realizing what Plato so eloquently said, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is is fighting a hard battle."

From one Soul to Another,
Be Kind

Learning how to make lemonade...

You know that age old adage, "when life hands you lemons, make lemonade"?  Well I need to work on my lemonade making skills. 

 I think we, as humans are pretty amazing. We can accomplish so much. We handle tragedy gracefully, with dignity, and pride.   One of the reasons I started this blog, and I wrote in my first blog entry is, "people inspire me." It's true. I am inspired daily by peoples courage, determination, strong beliefs and values, and optimism... People are amazing able to handle so much... But why is it the little things, "the lemons" that taste so sour?

A few days ago, I missed a flight to Florida where I was going for a much needed girls weekend. It was my stupid fault, I showed up at the airport a mere 15 minutes before my plane was scheduled to take off.  I woke up late, couldn't find my husbands car keys, took longer than expected to get to the airport... you know the whole stream of events that makes you late. The gate agent took pity on me, and gladly booked me for another flight at no additional cost. I returned home, spent a few hours with the boys, and headed back to the airport... Only to realize my debit card was missing. Several phone calls to the bank, husband, and every place I shopped at the day before, I concluded my card was gone. By this time, I was in full on anxiety/stress mode; high blood pressure, heart racing, shortness of breath, stressed out! I was so annoyed with my own stupidity and crappy luck I could have lost it!

You know, I am not always the best under pressure, but I do consider myself pretty resilient... I mean I bounced back after birthing twins with much less stress and anxiety than my current situation.

I don't think I'm alone either... I have watched my husband stay even keeled and steady through multiple million dollar negotiations with work, but freak out over traffic... I have seen grown men cry over losing a football game, I have seen people  yell at complete strangers at a movie theater for butting in line.  It just amazes me... I mean if it is just lemons-small, insignificant, things,  why is it to hard to swallow? It just amazes me how when it's the big things in life we deal so well, so gracefully, so dignified, but the little things cause us to crack. 

So while my day was still filled with stress and anxiety, I made it to Florida and had an awesome time.  In the end, I was able to look back at the days events and realize they were just lemons.  However in the heat of the moment, I learned lemons are really hard to swallow. 

From one soul to another