So I had a little epiphany today. Ok, maybe not an epiphany, but more like something I already knew finally sunk in.
Have you ever felt judged? Ok, obviously that was a rhetorical question. Have you ever felt judged by someone you see on a VERY regular basis? That is probably pretty obvious as well. We have all felt as though we were being judged. Sometimes it is our own insecurities, sometimes it is simply that the person we feel we are being judged by is just not very open, and sometimes that person actually is judging us. Regardless of whether or not we are, in fact being judged, the feelings we have are VERY real.
I have been struggling for a few months with this exact situation. I feel like I am being judged by someone whom I really shouldn’t feel that way about. For whatever reason so many of my insecurities creep up whenever I am around them. I feel I have to be overly careful with what I say, how I say it and even how I react to things they may say or do. It is exhausting. Have you ever known someone whom you found so incredibly annoying that you actually found yourself being somewhat dismissive of them? You would never be out right rude, but you don’t go out of your way to be overly kind either. I know I have felt that way before. I’m not proud to admit that I have been quite dismissive, distant and indifferent to people I should have never felt that way about. I now know what it feels like to be the person who is on the receiving end of that not-quite-rude-but-very-passive-aggressive-obnoxious behavior. Now, whether or not what I am feeling when in the presence of this person is their intention is not the point. My feelings are real.
What is also real is the bourdon I have been carrying around because of this feeling. I have become incredibly insecure about things that I have always been passionate about. I have allowed myself to second guess the gifts that God has blessed me with and I have scrutinized myself when I should be loving myself. I have also carried a large amount of resentment and frustration for this other person. I have allowed myself to pick apart their weaknesses. I have made jabs at them (to myself of course not directly to them), I have scrutinized their character and I have been unkind when venting to friends about this person (not that there is anything wrong with venting; just being unkind). I think all of this behavior that I have engaged in is quite normal. I think most of us have that instinct to attack when we feel we are being attacked.
I have prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed…you get the picture. I have reflected on this situation far more than I probably should have, as I have given it way, WAY too much power.
What I have finally realized…well I shouldn’t say I “realized” this because I already knew it was the right thing to do…what I should say is what I have finally DECIDED to do is to turn those negative resentful feelings into love. Yes, I have decided to LOVE this person. As hard as it is, I need to do this not only because it is right and good but because it is the only thing that will truly free me from my little prison of frustration and conflict I have been in. I would encourage anyone in this situation to do the same thing. LOVE those who are judging you. And I don’t mean the “I will love them as a child of God” way, but really LOVE them. Find something about them that you admire. Something that they have within them that makes you think, “because of that quality this person makes the world a better place.” I’m not saying it will be easy. In fact, it’s damn hard. But I believe it can be done, as I am working on this part myself. When you see them, compliment them; make them feel good about themselves. Genuinely LOVE them the way you love a friend.
What I can say is that in the very short time since I have made my decision to love them whom I am being judged by, I somehow feel lighter. This person may still be judging me; they may still find me incredibly annoying, heck maybe it was all in my head. Whatever the case is I don’t care anymore. My focus is no longer making sure I somehow live up to the expectations of someone I really don’t even know that well. My focus is living up to the expectations of those who know and love me. My friends and family know I am not an unkind person. I was not raised to tear someone else down and myself in the process. I was taught to be loving and kind and open and accepting. Those are the opinions I care about and that is what really matters. As long as I lead with love God will handle the rest.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
It's been a while...
WOW…where in the world shall I start? It has been so long since I have updated my blog and so much has happened. I guess I’ll start with the Triathlon.
As you probably know I was training for the Tri for the Cure that is held in Denver in August every year. I had one goal and that was to finish the triathlon in 2 hours or less. I must admit that I trained pretty hard for this, but because when I began my quest for pink I was in the WORST shape of my life, I knew I had to set a somewhat realistic goal. I had somehow allowed myself to gain over 50 lbs and become about as unhealthy as I could get. So, you can only imagine how much “fun” I was having during the beginning of my training. However, I had a goal and come hell or high water I was going to achieve it. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go at it alone and was fortunate to have so many people cheering me on as I embarked on this journey. Not to mention my faith in God…without that I would have been toast the first week.
So, August 2 comes and my sister, sister-in-law and I are all at the event getting excited. I am feeling really good about the swim, as I am normally a pretty strong swimmer. As they sounded the horn for our wave to begin it took me a bit to get my rhythm. Just as I was finding my pace another swimmer decides to pass between me and the swimmer on my right. Now, please know that swimming in a triathlon is already like giving100 other people full permission to beat you senseless, while you are blindly kicking and stroking your way through a forever changing obstacle course. In fact, a friend of mine who is an Iron Man tri-athlete sent me this very funny video that basically describes the swim portion perfectly, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_6tOzt-nfM. Anyway, as this other swimmer barreled her way between the person to my right and me I swam left to get out of her way (mind you, had she just been paying a bit more attention she would have seen that the space between me and the swimmer on my right was way too narrow for someone to pass, yet to my left was WIDE open…I’m not bitter, though). As I am doing this the swimmer who was clearly not paying attention also swims left and just as she gets ahead of me and just as I am turning my head to take a breath she kicks me in the face causing me to inhale half of the reservoir and the entire funk that is in it. I of course completely lose my breath and at first I can’t even cough. I had to stop for a moment and prop myself up on one of the floaters until I could cough out some of the water and breathe. I would guess I probably stopped swimming for a good 30 seconds to a minute, maybe even longer.
Once done with the swim I managed to get through the bike and run without any major setbacks. Well, except for the fact that I was coughing water periodically throughout the race. All in all it was a great experience and while I didn’t finish in under the 2 hour goal I had set for myself (my time was actually 2:01:00…1 minute over my goal), I am cutting myself some slack, as I fully blame the chick who kicked me for my one minutes delay. That’s right, I don’t think I should take ANY responsibility for my time, as I am sure that had I not been kicked I wouldn’t have had to stop, nor would I have been slowed down by the water I was coughing up during the whole race (and was STILL coughing up the next day) and therefore, would probably have actually won the entire race. Ok maybe not, but hey…if it makes a girl feel better to say that then that’s what I’m gonna tell myself. It’s not like YOU were out there swimming, cycling and running your little butt off. :)
I am now training for a half marathon that I will be running in December. I haven’t set a time goal yet, as I want to get a better grasp of what my average pace in the cooler temps will be before I do that. I can tell you this, though, I never thought I would be a person who would even consider running a half marathon much less actually signing up and training for one. I always said, “I’m not an endurance athlete…I am strong and can lift tons of weight but I can’t run to save my life.” Well, I guess I proved myself wrong on that one. As I have said before, I have always loved challenging my body and pushing it to see how far I could make it go. However, in the past that meant I would only “push it” in the little comfort zone of lies I told myself. Which kinda meant I wasn’t really “pushing it” at all. I mean sure I would increase weight and max out when I was leg pressing, but I KNEW I was good at that. THIS that I am doing now is the true meaning of “pushing it” for me. When I began running I began on a treadmill and could only run for 2 minutes before I had to stop and walk. It seemed like it took months before I could run an entire mile. I actually remember how excited I was when I ran that first FULL mile. Now here I am getting ready for another 6 mile run tomorrow. 6 MILES…I never thought I would run 6 miles without stopping. I also never thought I would enjoy running 6 miles without stopping, but I can finally say that I do. I ENJOY running! Who knew?
Next stop…maybe Cowtown half marathon in Feb. and then CapTexTri in May where my sister-in-law (and hopefully my sister) and I will participate in another triathlon. This time, for me it will be an Olympic distance. Gotta love it!
As you probably know I was training for the Tri for the Cure that is held in Denver in August every year. I had one goal and that was to finish the triathlon in 2 hours or less. I must admit that I trained pretty hard for this, but because when I began my quest for pink I was in the WORST shape of my life, I knew I had to set a somewhat realistic goal. I had somehow allowed myself to gain over 50 lbs and become about as unhealthy as I could get. So, you can only imagine how much “fun” I was having during the beginning of my training. However, I had a goal and come hell or high water I was going to achieve it. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go at it alone and was fortunate to have so many people cheering me on as I embarked on this journey. Not to mention my faith in God…without that I would have been toast the first week.
So, August 2 comes and my sister, sister-in-law and I are all at the event getting excited. I am feeling really good about the swim, as I am normally a pretty strong swimmer. As they sounded the horn for our wave to begin it took me a bit to get my rhythm. Just as I was finding my pace another swimmer decides to pass between me and the swimmer on my right. Now, please know that swimming in a triathlon is already like giving100 other people full permission to beat you senseless, while you are blindly kicking and stroking your way through a forever changing obstacle course. In fact, a friend of mine who is an Iron Man tri-athlete sent me this very funny video that basically describes the swim portion perfectly, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_6tOzt-nfM. Anyway, as this other swimmer barreled her way between the person to my right and me I swam left to get out of her way (mind you, had she just been paying a bit more attention she would have seen that the space between me and the swimmer on my right was way too narrow for someone to pass, yet to my left was WIDE open…I’m not bitter, though). As I am doing this the swimmer who was clearly not paying attention also swims left and just as she gets ahead of me and just as I am turning my head to take a breath she kicks me in the face causing me to inhale half of the reservoir and the entire funk that is in it. I of course completely lose my breath and at first I can’t even cough. I had to stop for a moment and prop myself up on one of the floaters until I could cough out some of the water and breathe. I would guess I probably stopped swimming for a good 30 seconds to a minute, maybe even longer.
Once done with the swim I managed to get through the bike and run without any major setbacks. Well, except for the fact that I was coughing water periodically throughout the race. All in all it was a great experience and while I didn’t finish in under the 2 hour goal I had set for myself (my time was actually 2:01:00…1 minute over my goal), I am cutting myself some slack, as I fully blame the chick who kicked me for my one minutes delay. That’s right, I don’t think I should take ANY responsibility for my time, as I am sure that had I not been kicked I wouldn’t have had to stop, nor would I have been slowed down by the water I was coughing up during the whole race (and was STILL coughing up the next day) and therefore, would probably have actually won the entire race. Ok maybe not, but hey…if it makes a girl feel better to say that then that’s what I’m gonna tell myself. It’s not like YOU were out there swimming, cycling and running your little butt off. :)
I am now training for a half marathon that I will be running in December. I haven’t set a time goal yet, as I want to get a better grasp of what my average pace in the cooler temps will be before I do that. I can tell you this, though, I never thought I would be a person who would even consider running a half marathon much less actually signing up and training for one. I always said, “I’m not an endurance athlete…I am strong and can lift tons of weight but I can’t run to save my life.” Well, I guess I proved myself wrong on that one. As I have said before, I have always loved challenging my body and pushing it to see how far I could make it go. However, in the past that meant I would only “push it” in the little comfort zone of lies I told myself. Which kinda meant I wasn’t really “pushing it” at all. I mean sure I would increase weight and max out when I was leg pressing, but I KNEW I was good at that. THIS that I am doing now is the true meaning of “pushing it” for me. When I began running I began on a treadmill and could only run for 2 minutes before I had to stop and walk. It seemed like it took months before I could run an entire mile. I actually remember how excited I was when I ran that first FULL mile. Now here I am getting ready for another 6 mile run tomorrow. 6 MILES…I never thought I would run 6 miles without stopping. I also never thought I would enjoy running 6 miles without stopping, but I can finally say that I do. I ENJOY running! Who knew?
Next stop…maybe Cowtown half marathon in Feb. and then CapTexTri in May where my sister-in-law (and hopefully my sister) and I will participate in another triathlon. This time, for me it will be an Olympic distance. Gotta love it!
Friday, July 17, 2009
Technology and Dating...Interesting Combo
Well, it has been quite a while since my last post and so much has happened. I went to Hawaii, went to Colorado and rode up Horsetooth, continued my training for the triathlon that is 2 weeks away and with my sister’s help began embarking on the world of online dating. Now by “sister’s help” you must know that really SHE is the one doing the online dating; it just happens to be on my behalf. She wrote my profile, weeded through the potential “matches”, emailed or “winked” at the ones she deemed good fits for me and then if/when they would respond she would call me and tell me all about them. If they didn’t respond then she would call me and say, “Well, I guess they didn’t like us…; perhaps he thought we were rude.” Seriously? “…didn’t like US…thought WE were rude…”? Yes, my friends I have become what most 30 something single women so badly want to become. I have finally become a “We”. Now forget the fact that the “We” in this case is me and my oh-so-married-with-children older sister. Nonetheless, a “We” I have somehow become.
I must admit, I quite like this arrangement, though. She is like my own personal dating assistant. She does all the hard work, the work I HATE doing. You know, the sifting through profiles, looking through cheesy photos, making sure that they meet the right requirements I have set up for my future significant other. Then as she determines which ones are my “type” (for lack of a better word), she sends off a nice little email (of course signing it as “Deborah”). It is only when they have emailed me back that I actually have to begin taking over. Now I will say I am completely new to this whole online dating thing. In fact, I’m really not sure that it’s for me. But I figure why not?
Cut to my very first phone conversation with one of my online “boyfriends” as I like to call them. I must admit I was quite hesitant to call this particular fellow, as he works in a similar field as me and I was worried that he could potentially be a client of mine. But, after doing my research I realized he was not one of my clients and decided to call. Now, WHY did I call him, you ask? Because he said he likes “independent women who aren’t afraid to call the man…” I quickly realized that is a creative yet articulate way of saying, “I am quite insecure and don’t have the gonads to make the first move.”
About 5 minutes after talking to this nice man I realized that this is NOT the guy for me. Oh, he was nice…VERY nice. However, when someone goes on and on and on complementing me about how educated I sound and how well spoken I am and how “proper” I seem I tend to get nervous. Why nervous, you ask? Because anyone who has known me for more than an hour knows exactly how “proper” I’m NOT. Don’t get me wrong I am educated and I do try to speak in such a way that I don’t completely bastardize the English language. However, “proper” is taking it a bit too far. Let’s put it this way, I have the mouth of a sailor at times and quite frankly when you start telling me how proper I am (and seem very excited about how proper I am) you have pretty much lost me completely. Reason being, anyone who is looking for a “proper” lady is not someone whom I feel I can drop the f-bomb in front of, or discuss some of the more personal topics that anyone who knows me knows I LOVE to discuss.
To be honest after about 15 minutes I was ready to get off the phone, but I didn’t want to hurt this guy’s feelings. So, I chatted it up with him for another 45 minutes listening to him explain to me how while he wears a suit to work everyday he really prefers the more casual lifestyle of wearing khakis, spending time on the English countryside and going to wine bars. To which I chuckled and said, “That’s casual?” I then explained to him that while I do enjoy a good wine bar and quite like wine tasting that given the choice between a wine bar or a brewery I would much prefer the latter and that while I am sure the English countryside is lovely (I wouldn’t know, as I haven’t been yet) that I really enjoy hanging out down in the hill country where I pretty much live in jeans and tank tops and drink beer. THAT is what I think of as casual. He then proceeds to continue complimenting me on how “down-to-earth” I am (wait a minute, what happened to proper), how genuine I seem to be, how kind and caring I seem to be. Now I enjoy getting compliments as much as the next gal, probably more even. However, this was a bit much for someone who had never met me beyond this hour long phone conversation.
Then as I finally made up an excuse as to why I needed to go he said to me, “well, I really like you and have enjoyed our conversation.” To which I am thinking, well I really am not interested; however, if this guy asks me out I’ll give him a chance. Why not right? All he had to do was ask. Now remember, this is the same guy who wanted ME to call him first. And while I am a self sufficient independent chick I still prefer the more traditional idea of dating where that man asks the lady out …yadayadayada. So, as I finally tell him that I am at the gym and my workout buddy is glaring at me to get off the phone (I was actually in my car in my garage) I say to him, “well it was nice talking to you; I enjoyed our conversation as well.” Now guys, if you have an hour long conversation with a woman and she ends it with a statement like that then just know chances are if you ask, she’ll say yes. And even if she says no, take comfort in knowing she is ecstatic at the fact that you asked. So, after I said the whole, “…enjoyed our conversation…” thing (which was practically like leading him to the water, all he had to do was drink) he says, “So now what?” Seriously, “now what”? He actually tried to put me in the position to ask HIM out? So, my response was this, “I’m not sure but maybe I’ll give you a call in a couple of days.” And MAYBE you should hold your breath.
Oh well, on to the next “boyfriend”…until then I’m going to keep enjoying the journey! J
I must admit, I quite like this arrangement, though. She is like my own personal dating assistant. She does all the hard work, the work I HATE doing. You know, the sifting through profiles, looking through cheesy photos, making sure that they meet the right requirements I have set up for my future significant other. Then as she determines which ones are my “type” (for lack of a better word), she sends off a nice little email (of course signing it as “Deborah”). It is only when they have emailed me back that I actually have to begin taking over. Now I will say I am completely new to this whole online dating thing. In fact, I’m really not sure that it’s for me. But I figure why not?
Cut to my very first phone conversation with one of my online “boyfriends” as I like to call them. I must admit I was quite hesitant to call this particular fellow, as he works in a similar field as me and I was worried that he could potentially be a client of mine. But, after doing my research I realized he was not one of my clients and decided to call. Now, WHY did I call him, you ask? Because he said he likes “independent women who aren’t afraid to call the man…” I quickly realized that is a creative yet articulate way of saying, “I am quite insecure and don’t have the gonads to make the first move.”
About 5 minutes after talking to this nice man I realized that this is NOT the guy for me. Oh, he was nice…VERY nice. However, when someone goes on and on and on complementing me about how educated I sound and how well spoken I am and how “proper” I seem I tend to get nervous. Why nervous, you ask? Because anyone who has known me for more than an hour knows exactly how “proper” I’m NOT. Don’t get me wrong I am educated and I do try to speak in such a way that I don’t completely bastardize the English language. However, “proper” is taking it a bit too far. Let’s put it this way, I have the mouth of a sailor at times and quite frankly when you start telling me how proper I am (and seem very excited about how proper I am) you have pretty much lost me completely. Reason being, anyone who is looking for a “proper” lady is not someone whom I feel I can drop the f-bomb in front of, or discuss some of the more personal topics that anyone who knows me knows I LOVE to discuss.
To be honest after about 15 minutes I was ready to get off the phone, but I didn’t want to hurt this guy’s feelings. So, I chatted it up with him for another 45 minutes listening to him explain to me how while he wears a suit to work everyday he really prefers the more casual lifestyle of wearing khakis, spending time on the English countryside and going to wine bars. To which I chuckled and said, “That’s casual?” I then explained to him that while I do enjoy a good wine bar and quite like wine tasting that given the choice between a wine bar or a brewery I would much prefer the latter and that while I am sure the English countryside is lovely (I wouldn’t know, as I haven’t been yet) that I really enjoy hanging out down in the hill country where I pretty much live in jeans and tank tops and drink beer. THAT is what I think of as casual. He then proceeds to continue complimenting me on how “down-to-earth” I am (wait a minute, what happened to proper), how genuine I seem to be, how kind and caring I seem to be. Now I enjoy getting compliments as much as the next gal, probably more even. However, this was a bit much for someone who had never met me beyond this hour long phone conversation.
Then as I finally made up an excuse as to why I needed to go he said to me, “well, I really like you and have enjoyed our conversation.” To which I am thinking, well I really am not interested; however, if this guy asks me out I’ll give him a chance. Why not right? All he had to do was ask. Now remember, this is the same guy who wanted ME to call him first. And while I am a self sufficient independent chick I still prefer the more traditional idea of dating where that man asks the lady out …yadayadayada. So, as I finally tell him that I am at the gym and my workout buddy is glaring at me to get off the phone (I was actually in my car in my garage) I say to him, “well it was nice talking to you; I enjoyed our conversation as well.” Now guys, if you have an hour long conversation with a woman and she ends it with a statement like that then just know chances are if you ask, she’ll say yes. And even if she says no, take comfort in knowing she is ecstatic at the fact that you asked. So, after I said the whole, “…enjoyed our conversation…” thing (which was practically like leading him to the water, all he had to do was drink) he says, “So now what?” Seriously, “now what”? He actually tried to put me in the position to ask HIM out? So, my response was this, “I’m not sure but maybe I’ll give you a call in a couple of days.” And MAYBE you should hold your breath.
Oh well, on to the next “boyfriend”…until then I’m going to keep enjoying the journey! J
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
All blocked up...
I’ve been having writer’s block lately and as someone who loves to write I find this very frustrating. While I don’t write loooooooooong in depth stories with snappy one-liners or non-fiction historical accounts of events that occurred long before yours truly graced this earth; I do find that writing is one of my many releases.
My writing is the most serious of all writings…it is to be seen as nothing more than that of pure brilliance. For my writing is the infinite boredom of my consciousness poured out in my journal…AKA my Blog. Now when I was younger I also had quite a love for writing poetry. I must say that I was actually pretty good at this somewhat of a lost art and still would write but for this issue I have mentioned above. Oh, and I am sure the fact that my life is actually in a very stable place without drama is also adding to my writers block.
It would seem that unless I am in a deep dark hole of mental anguish drowning my pathetic, over-exaggerated, mountains out of mole hills issues in beer or vodka (or whatever substance seems to be there at the time) and smoking cigarettes I simply have nothing to write about. Ever notice how smart the artsy types look while smoking cigarettes in a coffee shop? You know; the ones that waft that sweet, sweet STALE aroma of ash tray and patchouli as they float by your table in their unwashed hair, ankle length skirt, tank top and flip-flops...the hippy wannabe “non-conformists” that somehow seem to look just like all the other hippy wannabe “non-conformists” out there. Yep, I was one of those…minus the patchouli. I just knew that fragrant scent of loam (patchouli smells like dirt to me) mixed with my perfume of sweet tobacco would send every man, woman and child that brushed by me into a cosmic tailspin of envy.
Well, now that I no longer suffer the angst of (insert huge dramatic terrible event from your adolescents or college years here) you can imagine the burden of dissatisfaction this fruitless basket of creativity has left me. It would seem that while in my happy place my creativity goes out the window. The funny thing is, now when I try to go back and read some of the poetry I wrote while in college and shortly after it is so depressing I just end up closing the journal and putting it back in my closet. And while it will sometimes bring back the feelings I had while I was writing (even if it’s just for a fleeting moment, I still feel them) I have to laugh at what a complete drama queen I really was. The good thing is it made for some really fluid and creative writing, even if it does stay in the back of my closet.
My writing is the most serious of all writings…it is to be seen as nothing more than that of pure brilliance. For my writing is the infinite boredom of my consciousness poured out in my journal…AKA my Blog. Now when I was younger I also had quite a love for writing poetry. I must say that I was actually pretty good at this somewhat of a lost art and still would write but for this issue I have mentioned above. Oh, and I am sure the fact that my life is actually in a very stable place without drama is also adding to my writers block.
It would seem that unless I am in a deep dark hole of mental anguish drowning my pathetic, over-exaggerated, mountains out of mole hills issues in beer or vodka (or whatever substance seems to be there at the time) and smoking cigarettes I simply have nothing to write about. Ever notice how smart the artsy types look while smoking cigarettes in a coffee shop? You know; the ones that waft that sweet, sweet STALE aroma of ash tray and patchouli as they float by your table in their unwashed hair, ankle length skirt, tank top and flip-flops...the hippy wannabe “non-conformists” that somehow seem to look just like all the other hippy wannabe “non-conformists” out there. Yep, I was one of those…minus the patchouli. I just knew that fragrant scent of loam (patchouli smells like dirt to me) mixed with my perfume of sweet tobacco would send every man, woman and child that brushed by me into a cosmic tailspin of envy.
Well, now that I no longer suffer the angst of (insert huge dramatic terrible event from your adolescents or college years here) you can imagine the burden of dissatisfaction this fruitless basket of creativity has left me. It would seem that while in my happy place my creativity goes out the window. The funny thing is, now when I try to go back and read some of the poetry I wrote while in college and shortly after it is so depressing I just end up closing the journal and putting it back in my closet. And while it will sometimes bring back the feelings I had while I was writing (even if it’s just for a fleeting moment, I still feel them) I have to laugh at what a complete drama queen I really was. The good thing is it made for some really fluid and creative writing, even if it does stay in the back of my closet.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Baby steps make for BIG victories
So, I ran my first ever 5K race on Saturday. I woke up super early to make sure I had time to eat a healthy breakfast. I wanted to make sure I ate early enough that I wasn't feeling it jiggle around in my stomach while I was running. After I ate, got dressed and got ready I went to pick up one of my friends who wanted to walk the 5K. We then met my friend/running buddy Lynn and her husband there. It was FREEZING!!!! I mean REALLY FREEZING. It was 35 degrees and windier than a Texas Twister in the middle of March. Ok, maybe that's stretching it, but seriously, it was windy.
Now mind you up until this point I had been pacing about a 13-14 minute mile (I am still in the run/walk stage, more running than walking but still...pretty slow). I wanted to make sure I had a realistic goal so I decided my goal was to finish the race in 45 minutes. Ok, for those of you whom running comes easily for, you probably think that time is silly, but for people like me it's a feat. So here I am thinking "Ok, if I RUN a 13 minute mile and knowing I will probably be walking some (up the hills mostly) then hopefully I can finish in 45 minutes." Granted I didn't thoroughly calculate what my time should have been based on my average pace but for whatever reason 45 minutes is what I had set in my head.
So after waiting and waiting and waiting some more in the freezing cold the race finally begins and I am running my little heart out. Just a pitter pattering away, ok well maybe more like Ka-thump ka-thumping away but you get the drift. Anyway, as I am running I am thinking to my self, "This isn't so bad, I have really come a long way since January. I bet I've run at least 20 minutes without stopping. " At this point I am getting pretty tired, just huffing and puffing away, as I should have been since 20 minutes without stopping on a COLD WINDY day is a huge step up for me. But then I thought to myself, "Well all my 'runner' friends said that the adrenaline would be racing and that I would probably do better than normal; I guess this is what they meant." I decided to look at my watch to see just how long I had been running. You can imagine the fury that came over me when it said 11. ELEVEN? Seriously...only ELEVEN MINUTES? UGH, I am NOT loving this moment.
Ok, so I know I talk about how we ("we" meaning "I") need to enjoy the journey and how we (again meaning I) need to take time to appreciate the valleys as well as the peaks, but I must say at this very moment in time I was definitely NOT loving this particular piece of the journey. In fact, it down right sucked and I was highly, HIGHLY irritated! Again I say, ELEVEN MINUTES? Are you kidding me? I was breathing heavier than a 75 year old chain smoker chimney sweeping in the middle of August!
Then I made a decision. I decided I was going to run to the light. As soon as I got to the light I could walk, I just had to make it to the light. By the way when I say light I literally mean traffic light not some spiritual metaphor for a vision of Jesus or Angels or some such Devine Being. If I was seeing that after only ELEVEN minutes that I have MUCH bigger issues than I thought. Anywho, so I ran to the light. Then I decided I could run to the tree, then to the next light, then...well, you get the point. Sure, I stopped and walked a little a long the way (mainly up the big hill while going against the wind) but by setting small goals I was able to run much farther and much longer than I thought I would be able to when I looked down at my watch and saw that darn ELEVEN. And I will say that while I didn't see Jesus, I did spend some time having little discussions with him. They weren't anything poetic or monumental "Ah-ha" (as Oprah would call them) moments. They pretty much consisted of me saying, "Ok, God just get me to the light..."; "Ok, now get me to the tree"; "Ok, now stop the wind". And every single time my prayer was answered. Well, maybe not the wind (that would have been a very "Moses-like" moment for a not so "Moses-like" situation). I figure the wind was there to provide me with some much needed resistance training. Plus, if I can run in the wind then I can run anywhere, right?
So, I finally crossed the finish line, and yes, I did run across it. I felt so good about myself. I can honestly say that even with the wind, that was the best run I have had yet. I found my friend (who clearly finished before me, as she is a much faster runner than I am) and together we waited for our other friend, who was walking, to cross the finish line. As she approached the finish line we cheered as loud as we could. You see, Saturday was her 52nd Birthday and her gift to herself was doing this race. She had been going through a similar funk I had gone through a while back and this was her "inspiration" to get herself off the sofa and back to living.
Oh, and by the way, I finished at 40:12. Almost a full 5 minutes faster than my goal. Clearly I need to set higher goals for myself! In the meantime...:)
Now mind you up until this point I had been pacing about a 13-14 minute mile (I am still in the run/walk stage, more running than walking but still...pretty slow). I wanted to make sure I had a realistic goal so I decided my goal was to finish the race in 45 minutes. Ok, for those of you whom running comes easily for, you probably think that time is silly, but for people like me it's a feat. So here I am thinking "Ok, if I RUN a 13 minute mile and knowing I will probably be walking some (up the hills mostly) then hopefully I can finish in 45 minutes." Granted I didn't thoroughly calculate what my time should have been based on my average pace but for whatever reason 45 minutes is what I had set in my head.
So after waiting and waiting and waiting some more in the freezing cold the race finally begins and I am running my little heart out. Just a pitter pattering away, ok well maybe more like Ka-thump ka-thumping away but you get the drift. Anyway, as I am running I am thinking to my self, "This isn't so bad, I have really come a long way since January. I bet I've run at least 20 minutes without stopping. " At this point I am getting pretty tired, just huffing and puffing away, as I should have been since 20 minutes without stopping on a COLD WINDY day is a huge step up for me. But then I thought to myself, "Well all my 'runner' friends said that the adrenaline would be racing and that I would probably do better than normal; I guess this is what they meant." I decided to look at my watch to see just how long I had been running. You can imagine the fury that came over me when it said 11. ELEVEN? Seriously...only ELEVEN MINUTES? UGH, I am NOT loving this moment.
Ok, so I know I talk about how we ("we" meaning "I") need to enjoy the journey and how we (again meaning I) need to take time to appreciate the valleys as well as the peaks, but I must say at this very moment in time I was definitely NOT loving this particular piece of the journey. In fact, it down right sucked and I was highly, HIGHLY irritated! Again I say, ELEVEN MINUTES? Are you kidding me? I was breathing heavier than a 75 year old chain smoker chimney sweeping in the middle of August!
Then I made a decision. I decided I was going to run to the light. As soon as I got to the light I could walk, I just had to make it to the light. By the way when I say light I literally mean traffic light not some spiritual metaphor for a vision of Jesus or Angels or some such Devine Being. If I was seeing that after only ELEVEN minutes that I have MUCH bigger issues than I thought. Anywho, so I ran to the light. Then I decided I could run to the tree, then to the next light, then...well, you get the point. Sure, I stopped and walked a little a long the way (mainly up the big hill while going against the wind) but by setting small goals I was able to run much farther and much longer than I thought I would be able to when I looked down at my watch and saw that darn ELEVEN. And I will say that while I didn't see Jesus, I did spend some time having little discussions with him. They weren't anything poetic or monumental "Ah-ha" (as Oprah would call them) moments. They pretty much consisted of me saying, "Ok, God just get me to the light..."; "Ok, now get me to the tree"; "Ok, now stop the wind". And every single time my prayer was answered. Well, maybe not the wind (that would have been a very "Moses-like" moment for a not so "Moses-like" situation). I figure the wind was there to provide me with some much needed resistance training. Plus, if I can run in the wind then I can run anywhere, right?
So, I finally crossed the finish line, and yes, I did run across it. I felt so good about myself. I can honestly say that even with the wind, that was the best run I have had yet. I found my friend (who clearly finished before me, as she is a much faster runner than I am) and together we waited for our other friend, who was walking, to cross the finish line. As she approached the finish line we cheered as loud as we could. You see, Saturday was her 52nd Birthday and her gift to herself was doing this race. She had been going through a similar funk I had gone through a while back and this was her "inspiration" to get herself off the sofa and back to living.
Oh, and by the way, I finished at 40:12. Almost a full 5 minutes faster than my goal. Clearly I need to set higher goals for myself! In the meantime...:)
Monday, March 23, 2009
Want to know the best way to get inspired? Inspire someone else!
I was talking to my sister on my way home from work today as I do most days and we got on the topic of health and wellness. This is a common topic for us considering we are both participating in the Tri for the Cure in August. As we were talking she mentioned something to me. She said something to the effect of, “Deborah, I am so proud of you. You have come such a long way and while you are the same Deborah overall, you have changed quite a bit in the last few years.” Well, that wasn’t word for word what she said, but it’s the gist of it. However, what is word for word is what she followed it up with; she then said, “I am really inspired by you; you have really inspired me.” Needless to say that was probably the biggest complement someone could have given me!
The funny thing is, I remember not too long ago telling someone else how much they had inspired me. It’s almost like the trickle down effect. My sister is right; I have changed a lot in the last year or so. Overall I am the same Deborah I have always been, but I went through a pretty dark period where I drank WAY too much, smoked WAY too much and pretty much holed myself up in my house.
I had become very anti-social and was in a way almost afraid to go out. My social outings consisted of going to my friends’ house for their weekly Friday night party where I would drink way too much and then spend the rest of the weekend hung over on the sofa not answering the phone or talking to anyone. I thought I was just hung over, I now realize I was obviously depressed. Now, please don’t misunderstand; those friends to this day are still two of my BEST friends. In fact they were constantly telling me that I needed to find a life outside of them. However, I became quite co-dependant on them. Looking back I kinda feel bad, as they hardly ever got any quality time alone (they are married). I was ALWAYS inviting myself over. UGH, how annoying I must have been! While I must admit that after a few beers I am quite the life of the party, even I can see how irritating I could become. God bless those two for putting up with me for so long.
Anyway, what I realized is that I have turned a corner. I don’t have any kind of a defining moment as to when I decided to pull myself out of my rut; it’s just as if something clicked and slowly but surely my whole outlook on life began to change. I was able to let go of the negativity I had been harboring, I began seeing things that would normally annoy me as a blessing instead of a burden, I definitely have become more patient and I now loath the idea of spending the ENTIRE day laying on the sofa watching TV (I realized this on Sat when I forced myself to do just that, as I needed to rest due to the raging sinus infection I was trying to get over). Now, by no means am I saying that these changes occurred simultaneously and were perfectly planned. In fact I fought some of them. I mean I kind of liked being the cynical clown that always had a “realistic view” of the world. It made me feel smart and funny…don’t ask why, but it did.
As I was talking to my sister we talked about this past of mine and she asked me, “Do you ever find yourself thinking back to all those excuses you had, as to why you couldn’t get your health together?” My answer was this, “Yes, but I wasn’t ready then. I don’t know what makes someone ready to change their life; for everyone it’s different and each person has to figure that out for themselves.” For me, I believe that getting myself spiritually centered with God is what allowed me to find the peace I needed to get myself healthy not only physically, but mentally, emotionally and spiritually as well. I am definitely NOT all the way there; in fact I still have a very long way to go but I am a heck of a lot further then I was 2 years ago. I can only imagine where I’ll be 2 years from now! In the meantime, I’m still enjoying the journey!
The funny thing is, I remember not too long ago telling someone else how much they had inspired me. It’s almost like the trickle down effect. My sister is right; I have changed a lot in the last year or so. Overall I am the same Deborah I have always been, but I went through a pretty dark period where I drank WAY too much, smoked WAY too much and pretty much holed myself up in my house.
I had become very anti-social and was in a way almost afraid to go out. My social outings consisted of going to my friends’ house for their weekly Friday night party where I would drink way too much and then spend the rest of the weekend hung over on the sofa not answering the phone or talking to anyone. I thought I was just hung over, I now realize I was obviously depressed. Now, please don’t misunderstand; those friends to this day are still two of my BEST friends. In fact they were constantly telling me that I needed to find a life outside of them. However, I became quite co-dependant on them. Looking back I kinda feel bad, as they hardly ever got any quality time alone (they are married). I was ALWAYS inviting myself over. UGH, how annoying I must have been! While I must admit that after a few beers I am quite the life of the party, even I can see how irritating I could become. God bless those two for putting up with me for so long.
Anyway, what I realized is that I have turned a corner. I don’t have any kind of a defining moment as to when I decided to pull myself out of my rut; it’s just as if something clicked and slowly but surely my whole outlook on life began to change. I was able to let go of the negativity I had been harboring, I began seeing things that would normally annoy me as a blessing instead of a burden, I definitely have become more patient and I now loath the idea of spending the ENTIRE day laying on the sofa watching TV (I realized this on Sat when I forced myself to do just that, as I needed to rest due to the raging sinus infection I was trying to get over). Now, by no means am I saying that these changes occurred simultaneously and were perfectly planned. In fact I fought some of them. I mean I kind of liked being the cynical clown that always had a “realistic view” of the world. It made me feel smart and funny…don’t ask why, but it did.
As I was talking to my sister we talked about this past of mine and she asked me, “Do you ever find yourself thinking back to all those excuses you had, as to why you couldn’t get your health together?” My answer was this, “Yes, but I wasn’t ready then. I don’t know what makes someone ready to change their life; for everyone it’s different and each person has to figure that out for themselves.” For me, I believe that getting myself spiritually centered with God is what allowed me to find the peace I needed to get myself healthy not only physically, but mentally, emotionally and spiritually as well. I am definitely NOT all the way there; in fact I still have a very long way to go but I am a heck of a lot further then I was 2 years ago. I can only imagine where I’ll be 2 years from now! In the meantime, I’m still enjoying the journey!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
The Journey Begins...
So, here it is folks; my very first blog!
I call it Journey with a Song because that is the best way I can sum up where I am at this point in my life. I am on a very crazy journey right now that includes a bike, a pool, a VERY expensive pair of running shoes, a 45 pound black mutt named Guinness the Wonder Dog, and a microphone!
It's funny because when I decided to do this Triathlon I really thought I was just going to ride a bike a little, run/walk some and swim a few laps. But it has really become so much more. I have really begun to enjoy challenging myself beyond what I think I am capable of. Every time I think I have reached my limit I realize that the limit has been moved further up the mountain!
When I was growing up and through college I have always found new ways of challenging my body. Whether it was gymnastics, rollerblading or what became a passion of mine in college, weightlifting, I was always doing something active. Then in my twenties I began struggling with an injury that would soon keep me off my feet completely (I'll save that story for another time). However, as many of us do, I became pretty complacent in my sedentary life and I began REALLY feeling the effects of those years without challenging my body. I NEVER thought I would be someone who would become so winded after riding a bike up a hill that I would almost pass out. Yep, you can ask my sister about that, as she was there when it happened. I was at my parents' house in the Hill Country and was riding my bike and seriously became so winded and my heart was pounding so hard I actually had to stop in the dirt driveway and sit down for close to probably 10 minutes. This was a HUGE wake-up call.
So back to the Triathlon...I am finally beginning to feel like the "Deborah" I was back before the injury. It is a very slow process, as my legs STILL hurt after every run but at least now they only hurt for a day instead of 3 days. I am a VERY slow runner but I don't even care; I am simply happy that I'm doing it. This has been much more than a physical journey, it has been a mental and spiritual journey as well. I am constantly amazed at what the human body can achieve after it's been so abused for so long. And trust me I ABUSED the hell out of my body. Between smoking a pack of cigarettes a day (clearly not any more but at one time I did), gaining over 60 lbs (slowly losing now), and living a very inactive and sedentary life I can't believe I am even able to bike 1 mile much less 15-20!
If this process has taught me anything it's to enjoy the journey! Like most of us I wanted instant gratification. I never took time to enjoy the stepping stones that took me from one side of the creek to the other. I always tried to leap across it and inevitably fell in the stupid creek, got pissed off and turned around and never got to the other side. For the first time I am finally taking the steps. I am very carefully stepping on each rock and balancing myself so as not to fall in, and if I do fall in I will get back up on the rock I fell off of and keep going. This is what I call enjoying the Journey...and you know what; I think I'll sing a little along the way! :)
I call it Journey with a Song because that is the best way I can sum up where I am at this point in my life. I am on a very crazy journey right now that includes a bike, a pool, a VERY expensive pair of running shoes, a 45 pound black mutt named Guinness the Wonder Dog, and a microphone!
It's funny because when I decided to do this Triathlon I really thought I was just going to ride a bike a little, run/walk some and swim a few laps. But it has really become so much more. I have really begun to enjoy challenging myself beyond what I think I am capable of. Every time I think I have reached my limit I realize that the limit has been moved further up the mountain!
When I was growing up and through college I have always found new ways of challenging my body. Whether it was gymnastics, rollerblading or what became a passion of mine in college, weightlifting, I was always doing something active. Then in my twenties I began struggling with an injury that would soon keep me off my feet completely (I'll save that story for another time). However, as many of us do, I became pretty complacent in my sedentary life and I began REALLY feeling the effects of those years without challenging my body. I NEVER thought I would be someone who would become so winded after riding a bike up a hill that I would almost pass out. Yep, you can ask my sister about that, as she was there when it happened. I was at my parents' house in the Hill Country and was riding my bike and seriously became so winded and my heart was pounding so hard I actually had to stop in the dirt driveway and sit down for close to probably 10 minutes. This was a HUGE wake-up call.
So back to the Triathlon...I am finally beginning to feel like the "Deborah" I was back before the injury. It is a very slow process, as my legs STILL hurt after every run but at least now they only hurt for a day instead of 3 days. I am a VERY slow runner but I don't even care; I am simply happy that I'm doing it. This has been much more than a physical journey, it has been a mental and spiritual journey as well. I am constantly amazed at what the human body can achieve after it's been so abused for so long. And trust me I ABUSED the hell out of my body. Between smoking a pack of cigarettes a day (clearly not any more but at one time I did), gaining over 60 lbs (slowly losing now), and living a very inactive and sedentary life I can't believe I am even able to bike 1 mile much less 15-20!
If this process has taught me anything it's to enjoy the journey! Like most of us I wanted instant gratification. I never took time to enjoy the stepping stones that took me from one side of the creek to the other. I always tried to leap across it and inevitably fell in the stupid creek, got pissed off and turned around and never got to the other side. For the first time I am finally taking the steps. I am very carefully stepping on each rock and balancing myself so as not to fall in, and if I do fall in I will get back up on the rock I fell off of and keep going. This is what I call enjoying the Journey...and you know what; I think I'll sing a little along the way! :)
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