Mind and Body Update

This post should've been written weeks ago.  I really wanted to do this closer to Z's two-month update, like I did the first month.  I have all of the usual excuses, including "there's no time!" but the real reason I've waited is because I needed to both have the time and be in a good state of mind when I wrote it.  That magical moment has happened right now, finally. The stars aligned and both things happened at once instead of me having to choose one or the other to get through writing this.

Let's start with the easy one: BODY.

How I'm looking: Well at the risk of sounding vain, I think I look great. I'm able to wear all of my pre-pregnancy clothes with the exception of only a few dresses that I bought right before I got pregnant, and those were always a crap-shoot anyway. My body has definitely changed, though. The shape is slightly different.  It may not even be noticeable to anyone but me, but I can tell.  Things fit, but differently. More snug in areas that used to be forgiving, but loose in areas that used to fit like a glove.

It's always a trip to see people for the first time since I had Z and watch their eyes dart immediately to my stomach to check out how it looks.  Don't think I don't noticing you doing that, folks. :)  But it makes me laugh, so don't feel badly about it. I'd do the same thing. 

How I'm feeling, physically: I was hanging out at around 10lbs above pre-pregnancy weight for a long time, but as of last week's doctor appointment that number has creeped up by a couple of pounds. Nothing alarming, but a definite sign that the steady postpartum weight loss has stopped, and that it's time for me to start being proactive again. I'm looking forward to putting some exercise back into my life, and hopefully cooler weather will visit us soon so that I can get outside with the pup and the babe. Cutting back on all the sweets and Dr. Pepper I've allowed myself during and since the pregnancy will be the most difficult part.  However, I've done it before and I can do it again.

Without going into unnecessary detail, I also just feel better, physically, every day. My body can go for longer periods of time without feeling tired or sore or getting too winded. Going back to work as soon as I did actually made me regress in my physical healing, at first.  But it's getting better and, despite the typical new-parent-sleepiness, I really do feel physically great.

Now for the not so easy one: MIND.

There's a part of me that wants to beat around the bush about this, but I've been brutally honest about everything else, so here goes:

I am suffering from dealing with postpartum anxiety. I define it as such not because I'm afraid of saying the words no mother wants to say (postpartum depression) but because of how the counselor I've been seeing (more on that in a minute) defined anxiety for me as "worry/fear of the future" and depression as "worry/fear of the past or present."

.....

I mean...what else do I say about it on a blog? It's probably pretty obvious that I have good reasons to feel this way.

Being a mom is hard.

I am still not completely over the disappointment over not breastfeeding. I don't think about it daily, but sometimes it doesn't take much to make me regress into feelings of guilt or disappointment. I think I need to come to terms with the fact that it may never completely go away, or that it may take a very long time.

I had a Car Seat Issue that those of you who are Facebook friends with me saw unfold as I completely berated myself for making an honest mistake.  An honest mistake that might have seriously hurt my son if we'd been in an accident, and I could. not. let it. go. I sobbed for hours the night I discovered my error. I took every "wow, thank God you figured it out" as a judgment on my parenting and my ability to take care of a baby. I cried most of the next day, too.

I get so sad at work sometimes because I like my job and I love working but I feel crushing guilt that my son only is with his parents for about 5 cumulative awake hours every weekday. 

I have a crippling fear of growing older and dying and leaving my son and my husband. I have dreams that one or both of them dies and it's my fault.

The Last Straw happened when I was at work, eating lunch in our break room and flipping through a magazine. I came across an ad in which an elderly couple was dancing at a wedding reception, having the time of their lives. I suddenly pictured myself as old and it was as though all the air was sucked out of the room and a ton of bricks had been placed on my chest. I had to go into the bathroom so I could cry and freak out. That was it. I knew I couldn't do this on my own anymore and I have to be functional at work. I also knew it was okay that I couldn't do it on my own anymore.

I called The Healing Place at my church and set up an appointment for pastoral care (meeting with a non-licensed counselor [mine happens to be in school to become one] for therapy that includes a spiritual and prayer aspect) immediately.

 

These sessions have really helped.  The first few were really just about me spilling my guts to her: all my fears, my doubts, my worries.  I've been able to put some things into perspective.  For example, though I feel that I should definitely not fear death and eternity with Christ, the reason I'm not exactly praying "Come quickly, Lord" is because I am blessed beyond measure here on Earth.  I'm surrounded by love. I love people.  I love this Earth, though it is of course filled with pain and conflict and war...those aren't the things on which I focus.  I love people-watching and the relationships that we have with each other. I love the actual earth and the incredible, mind-boggling science that makes it all work.  I am in no hurry to leave what is known.

When I said all of this to my counselor, she smiled at me and said "Yep. All this and Heaven, too!" I've heard that phrase before, but it never really resonated with me until that moment.  We have been given this Earth and the people in it as a gift, and even on our best day, it can't even compare to what we've been promised. 

I was doing a lot better with the anxiety until this past week, when the Car Seat Issue happened, and that a week after our President announced a possible plan to attack Syria's means of chemical warfare.  Hearing about "the murdered children" as I bounced my son to sleep, feeling as though there were a flashing neon sign above my head screaming "TARGET DEMOGRAPHIC," and then one minor, but important thing that I had failed (in my mind) to do to keep my own son safe was just as crippling as that day in the break room.

A friend asked me, "Would you chastise anyone else as harshly as you're chastising yourself right now?" Of course I wouldn't have.  And neither does Jesus. 

In my last session, through a completely cleansing prayer exercise, I heard Him tell me "It's okay." 

But! It's not! I don't even PRAY when this stuff happens! It doesn't even occur to me sometimes! That's terrible, right?!

"It's okay."

But I still don't know what I'm doing!  And I'm scared.  Why does anyone bring a child into this world when there's a definite limit to how much we can protect him? What if I can't do it?

"It's okay."

But....*sigh*....Okay then. I release it. I have to release it. If I don't, I'm going to miss out on everything happening now. I'm going to miss the sleepy smiles and the funny faces because I'm so worried about the future, about what could or might happen.  If the future is going to worry me, I need to focus on today.  What is happening right now that is wonderful? Find the joy in this moment.

"I've got this. I've got you and Michael. And I've definitely got Z. It's okay."

***

Postpartum depression and/or anxiety is very real. The hardest part was considering that it may be real for me and, once I hit a certain point, I had to entertain that it was possible.  Even if it's temporary.  Even if it's situational.  But it's not bad or embarrassing or shameful.  

I'm not embarrassed at all about admitting that I'm struggling.  I'm not embarrassed that I've sought counseling.  (I'll admit that I'm a little embarrassed that I might need to consider a small amount of anti-anxiety medication at some point, but we have agreed to try more sleep, more physical activity, and healthy food choices in addition to meditation and prayer and release before we take that route.)

But every day is a day closer to further healing. Every day might need a reminder to let it go, to find the joy, to trust in my God-given instincts and abilities, to give myself a break, to ignore the lies of the Enemy when he tells me I'm not good enough.

Most importantly, to be joyful and thankful for what I am instead of focusing on all the things I'm not.

Mind and Body Update

It's so hard to believe that I'm quickly approaching the end of my son's seventh week of life (it's still so beautiful and strange to say "my son") and even more quickly approaching his two month birthday.  I would say that the time has flown, but it really hasn't.  If anything, it almost seems like it's been longer than just seven weeks and yet...how has he so quickly gone from this:

to THIS:

Real men love their pink chairs!

so quickly?!  He's already outgrown newborn diapers and newborn clothing, and we had to take the newborn insert out of his carseat because he was too big for it.  I won't pretend like this doesn't make my eyes fill up a little bit, but I look forward to each new day as he looks a little bit different and shows a little bit more of his personality!

But anyway, this blog post was going to be about me and how I'm doing!

I'm happy to say that I am feeling so much better.  Physically and mentally.  Do I still have hard days? Of course.  Sometimes I feel like two hard days' worth of emotions and feelings are crammed into one really crappy hour at work when I'm simultaneously a) overwhelmed with all that's going on at work, b) missing my kid something fierce, and c) somehow back in the Deep Dark Feeding Guilt area of my mind.  But those crappy times are getting easier to navigate and shorter in length as I find ways to acclimate to what is my New Normal.

Someone asked me recently if I miss being pregnant, or if I missed having Z inside my belly.  I don't miss the latter, really, because (as I've mentioned many times here on the blog), I never really felt as connected to him as I do now.  I think a lot of that has to do with us not finding out if he was a boy or a girl beforehand, but also with it being my first experience with pregnancy.  However, sometimes I do miss actually being pregnant.  Not those last few weeks of pregnant, but the middle and later parts when I felt like I was the cute pregnant girl everyone would smile at walking by.  Or how much I really did love how my pregnant belly looked (still so, so not taking for granted the fact that I managed to avoid stretch marks).  I also miss not being self-conscious of the extra flabby belly around my midsection...not feeling like I had to "suck it in" for 9 months was kind of awesome.

I'm very happy with how my body has bounced back after having Z, though, and I don't take that for granted. 

40wks pregnant (L) vs. 5wks postpartum (R)

I feel like maybe God is giving me a little bit of a break on that, after all I've gone through, physically, after my delivery.  Don't get me wrong; I'd happily carry around an extra 15-20lbs or still look a little pregnant in order to have had a better breastfeeding experience.  But I so badly needed to feel something...somehow...like myself again, and this area of my life is helping. I got an extreme amount of joy in unpacking all of my favorite sundresses and washing them to wear again.  It's like I've got a whole new wardrobe all over again!

However, I'm still struggling with "feeling like myself," when the very definition of who I am has so drastically changed!  I'll never be the old Mandy again, because I'll never have NOT had Z again.  This experience changes a woman irrevocably and, while she is still the same person, she's...not.  It's really very hard to explain.  So I won't try.  Not right now, anyway.  Maybe on the next Mind & Body update.

I also miss feeling him kick inside me.  That really was a tremendous feeling.  I just recently discovered that another friend is about 17wks pregnant and, as she was describing feeling her baby move, I suddenly felt a bit envious of that! There really was nothing like that feeling.  Last night, as Michael and I were drowsily chatting as we were in bed, I suddenly said "Whoa!"  I felt very distinct phantom kicks in my stomach! I don't know what it actually was or, if they were phantom kicks, what causes them, but in that moment I remembered what it felt like to have his tiny, growing body kicking away in there.  It made me smile.

All of the physical issues caused by the Nursing Saga are healing very well, too.  I was actually able to sleep on my stomach the other night (and it. was. glorious.) because I was finally healed enough for it to be comfortable.  I saw the surgeon yesterday for what was probably (and hopefully) my last follow-up appointment and, for some reason, I felt sad about it being my last appointment. I actually got emotional when I was thanking him and the nurse for everything they've done. It's strange to say that, with all I've been through, but somehow seeing the hospital as I drive past it on the highway or visiting the surgeon's office for a follow-up and, I'm sure, next week when I go to my postpartum checkup with Dr. V, just ties up all the loose ends of the pregnancy and the birth, and means it's really over.  It probably sounds strange to say I'm sad about that.  It probably sounds even more strange to hear me say that I feel envious of the women who are having babies every time I drive past the hospital. I don't know how to explain it, really.  It just was such a huge, all-consuming part of my life for the better part of a year and...now it's over. 

In all honesty, I'll also miss the doctors and their nurses.  I really loved going every month (then two weeks, then week...) to those appointments and learning about my changing body and developing baby, and asking questions based on what I'd read that month or researched that week.  It was kind of fun, and I think it speaks volumes about the medical professionals I worked with that I will genuinely miss seeing them with any regularity.  

Right now in this "adapting" stage of our new life, I'm finding that my biggest struggle is living in the moment and enjoying that moment or that day for exactly what it is.  I find that I'll either be sad about the past (still feeling acute disappointment about not nursing, looking at Z's newborn photos, packing up his teeny tiny clothes that I'm amazed ever even fit him) or I'll be worried or stressed about the future (holding him and fighting back tears already knowing that some day he won't want me to do that anymore).

I am trying to take all of this to God much more often than I have been.  I pray that God will allow me to forgive myself when I am angry about breastfeeding, and I pray that God will keep me in this moment right now when my son is asleep on my chest and making sucking motions with his mouth and sighing in his sleep.  I pray out loud while I stare at my son and ask God to guide Michael and I in raising him, and I pray that he'll be happy and kind and loving and sweet and inquisitive and compassionate...and that keeps me in that moment just a little longer. And when that happens, my brain quiets down enough to not worry so much about the past or the future.  I just am.  We just are.

I've discussed a lot of this with my husband, of course, and he just wants to see me less inside my own head, I think.  He tells me all the time, "I'm so proud of you," or "You're doing so great, Mommy," and I love that.  He knows what I need to hear when I need to hear it the most. 

Other moms (new moms of littles as well as moms with kids much older) have also been my saving grace, lately.  They understand like nobody else will -- especially recent new moms.  It's fresh on their minds or they're even currently going through the same things I am (shout out to the June 2013 mamas, for sure!), which makes it so much easier to talk about the ups and downs of these first weeks and months. On the other hand, it's also necessary for me to spend time talking to friends about things other than baby Z -- work, theatre, etc.  It reminds me that I'm not wholly defined by this child's birth or by being a mother; he's just altered the definition of who I am. The whole definition of me, once I figure it out, will be greater than the sum of its parts. 

I was emailing a lot of this stuff to my friend Kathy while simultaneously writing this blog, and she just really hit me with an arrow of emotion to the heart with this:

I have no idea what kind of parent I am. I only know that I'm pretty good at it and I love it. And my child is intensely happy and is turning into a spirited, kind, hilarious little person. That's my benchmark. I'm going to be me. This me is going to do theatre again someday. This me is going to get a new house sometime in the next year. This me is going to screw it all up, and cry and feel bad at times. This me is going to be profoundly joyful. This me is going to be frustrated. This me is going to feed my child fresh fruits and veggies and cheese as well as microwaved chicken nuggets and an ocean of Goldfish. This me is going to sing every single day, to an audience of one (or three if you count [my husband] and the cats).  This me is going to do great things. [My son] will be one of those things. 

Eventually, you will be excited to meet the new you. I know I am, because I can kind of see the woman you're becoming and I'm kinda crazy about her.

You know? I kinda like her, too.

Weighing on my Mind

With an emphasis on the "weight."

Since this blog has spent a good deal of time discussing my weight loss journey and my goals to living a healthier lifestyle overall, both physically and emotionally/spiritually, I think now would be a good time to talk about this aspect of pregnancy...

...the dreaded weight gain. 

I knew I would struggle with this aspect of pregnancy, at least mentally.  I had no idea how my body would change or gain weight, because I've never been pregnant before.  I also know that it's very different with every woman and even with every individual pregnancy the same woman experiences. But I knew that I'd struggle with the reality that the needle on the scale was going to go up higher and higher, whether I liked it or not.

Some of the things I was told:

* Your body is gonna gain what it's gonna gain, so eat what you want.
* You started out overweight, so you really shouldn't gain more than 10-15 lbs (by the lovely woman who works for United Healthcare's "Healthy Pregnancy" program on the phone...a woman who doesn't know anything about me other than my starting, pre-pregnancy weight).
* I'd like to see you get to this weight before you get pregnant, and keep your weight gain to about 30lbs.

Take a wild guess as to which I took the most seriously. 

If you guessed the third statement, you win the prize!  That was the advice of my doctor a year ago, when I became his patient and he encouraged me to drop about 20lbs to be at what he considered a healthy weight for me before getting pregnant, and what he said to me when I re-visited him after getting pregnant.

Allow me to go off on a tiny tangent here to say how much I love my OB.  This is why I stayed with him after that first visit in February of 2012.  He gave me a very matter-of-fact instruction to get to a healthy weight for me -- not to fit what was on a chart for my height and age.  He's also very matter-of-fact that I need to get off my butt more than I have in this pregnancy if I want to keep the weight gain under control.

Anyway, it's time to list some facts:

* I met my goal weight, or got within a pound or so (I need to check with my doctor's office to see what my actual weight was at that first visit after the positive pregnancy test) right before I got pregnant.
* So far, I have gained approximately 12-15 lbs (as of my last visit on February 8th).  Again, I need to get some legit numbers.
* I've let my eating habits slide big time because of how I've felt during the first trimester and a half.
* I've felt better and could be eating better and exercising more, but bad habits are so easy to get back into that I've let myself be lazy.
* If I'm careful, and if I gain about a pound more per week (which is pretty normal during the third trimester), I'll meet my goal of only 30lbs weight gain.

This will still make me heavy.  Heavier than I've been in a long time.  But I still have time to make sure that this weight gain is for the pregnancy, and not because I've allowed myself to have 3 Slurpees a week and all the candy I want (this baby either LOVES sugar, or my body missed it so much as I was approaching my goal weight that it's craving it like crazy...).

I'm getting nervous, though. I feel very big and awkward.  I feel incredibly nervous about my Glucose test on Thursday.  I'm nervous that I'm going to get lectured on weight gain.  I'm nervous that in my third trimester I'll hate how I look and I'll resent the pregnancy because, yes, unfortunately, I am that vain.  To be honest, I look forward to having this baby MORE so I can get back to a body shape I'm comfortable with than so that I can meet my baby.  OF COURSE I'm excited to meet this little dude or gal, too. 

But when you've struggled with weight and vanity issues your whole life, that doesn't just go away during pregnancy.  So it's a daily struggle and prayer to make sure that I'm giving the baby and my body what it needs (healthy food, water, exercise, etc.), still giving in occasionally to the MASSIVE sugar cravings in moderation (because, hey, you just don't know how singularly focused the mind can become on getting that Slurpee), and easing myself back into some healthy habits without starving myself. 

Because the fact is, I need more food than I did before. I need to eat more calories.  But they can be good calories and smart choices.  I'm not "eating for two."  Not two adults anyway. 

I'm also taking lots of pictures.  I'm THAT girl.  I've felt NO shame in taking selfies and posting them on my Flickr and Facebook accounts, because it's nice to hear people tell you that you look great when you are feeling more and more like a Weeble Wobble.

And finally, I leave you with a comparison shot (and the shot on the left will be my inspiration once the Little One is born).  The picture on the left is less than a month before I found out I was pregnant, and the picture on the right was taken this morning.  It's a fairly drastic change in my head, but in reality I can see in my face and arms that I am gaining weight where the baby is, mostly (no comment on the boobs), and that I haven't completely let myself go.

Hump Day Bump Day -- Celebrating all Forms

I call this look "The Pregnant Ballerina."

Did I mention that I finally caved on the Message Boards? I did.  I still stand by what I said in an earlier post about how crazy some of them get.  I'm very lucky that the board for my birth month (June 2013) is relatively awesome and drama-free.  I also try to stay out of the threads regarding potentially incendiary topics, which helps, I think.  But anywho, it's been a lot of fun at times...especially Wednesdays.

Why?  Because Wednesdays are known as Hump Day Bump Day (HDBD).  Everyone posts a photo of her current baby bump, how far along they are, whether or not they're a first time mom, height, etc.

First of all, everyone always looks adorable.  It's so fun to see the smiles growing as the bellies grow each week.  But that's not what absolutely thrills and fascinates me about these weekly threads...

What I absolutely love to the point of actually getting teary-eyed sometimes (man I'm such a hippie...) is how different yet absolutely beautiful every woman looks.  No matter her height, shape, size, outfit, hair color, skin color....it's just amazing.

Now before you blow me off as being some crazy lady who is in absolute awe at the wonder of the children growing in our expanding wombs...it's not that part that gets to me (although that's stupid awesome, too!).

What fascinates and excites me is how differently every woman shows and grows with her pregnancy (first, second, fourth...you get the idea).  Some of the moms who aren't doing this for the first time will post a side-by-side comparison picture -- this time THIS pregnancy vs. this time PAST pregnancy, and the differences can be so awesome!

Also, everyone is SO supportive of each other.  There are women who are weeks farther along than I am, and SMALLER...and women who are weeks behind where I am with bigger bumps than mine...but it's such a supportive environment!  I sure hope that anyone who thinks "I shouldn't be this big already," or "Why am I not bigger by now?!" feels as uplifted as I do after this weekly post.

It just serves to prove the "every body/woman/baby is different" that I keep hearing throughout this pregnancy...but it also proves a great lesson even minus the baby bumps.  There is so much beauty in every woman, no matter her shape, the size of her jeans, how tall she is...and these weekly posts have been a tremendous reminder of just how we are all "fearfully and wonderfully made" by our Creator with loving hands.

EDIT TO ADD: I just finally opened my daily devotional email and this was today's key verse: But Lord, You are our father. We are like clay, and You are the potter; Your hands made us all. (Isaiah 64:8).  Pretty cool and appropriate, huh? :)

Serenity vs. Pregspectations

Do you like that word? Pregspectations? I made it up last night when I was thinking about the expectations of a woman -- or at least my own expectations -- and of those around her when she is pregnant.

Word combinations. Worbinations. They're fun!

Anyway...

It's not news to anyone who knows me or who has been reading this blog that I've been having a bit of trouble feeling really connected to this pregnancy and this baby.  The most I've felt that it's really real was last Friday during and after our anatomy scan ultrasound. I got to see the outline of an actual developing little person inside me, which was super cool.  But, overall? I just...don't.

I pray for the baby, of course. Every single day. I think about him/her a lot, especially when I'm in the car listening to music and singing.  I wonder if s/he hears me and likes the sound of my voice. I wonder if it recognizes Carmen's barking and Michael's voice.  But that only really happens in specific moments.

I have friends who are loving every moment of being pregnant and having these serene, powerful connections to their babies. I'm happy for them, but it makes me feel...well let's just be honest.  This is a blog after all.  It makes me feel like a bad Mom already. 

I have definitely started enjoying pregnancy more, but as of this point in time I don't see myself being the kind of woman who misses being pregnant. I feel great, overall.  I'm having fun picking out outfits for myself that challenge me, finding new ways to look cute and incorporate my style into maternity wear. I'm SO GLAD to have started taking the steps necessary to get the house and the baby's room ready. I liked registering (even though each time I've very definitely hit The Wall and started getting overwhelmed).  So I'm not miserable and uncomfortable (anymore) (again, yet). 

I just really still see this as a means to an end.

Recently, several friends have given birth...and even more will before it's our turn to meet the Little One.  Those are the times I get really emotional -- when I see the first photos of the new family.  Mom crying as the baby is handed to her.  Dad struggling to keep his emotions in check as he holds his son/daughter for the first time....so maybe that's gonna be our strongest memory and emotion, too.

Maybe some people really feel like parents during the pregnancy, but for others it takes holding the baby in their arms.  I think I -- we, actually -- might be the latter. Michael and I talked about this last night as I was mulling all of this over, and I talked about this a little with a friend today, too.

Really I think I need to just let go of the worry.  The worry that something will be wrong with the baby.  The worry that something is wrong with me.  The worry about what others think/will think about my decisions and choices. My friend today asked me if I was giving anything up for Lent. I answered that I don't really observe Lent, but I'm not opposed to the idea of giving up something that I don't need...and not just until Easter Sunday. 

So here it is.  I'm giving up worry.  I'm giving up the stress that might even be keeping me from enjoying this (relatively) short process more than I could be. I'm giving up the EXPECTATIONS that I think I should feel just because someone else did/does. 

I'm accepting serenity.  I'm accepting peace and acceptance. I'm accepting that my experience is valid and it's mine.

Feel free to hold me to this, friends. Just remember to do it nicely. :)

Changes

(for the record, that's not the brilliant blog post title I wanted.  but at the end of the day, that's the basic subject of what you're about to read. and it's more important to me to get all of this said than to come up with a witty title.)

(also this post is gonna be long. sorry.)

I have lots of internet friends. Some I've met in real life, some I may never meet in real life, but I actually feel closer to them than you might imagine.  One of those awesome internet-friends-I-just-haven't-met-yet-but-I-know-we'd-be-besties friends is Bex.

Bex is rad.

Bex sent me a CD full of Nate Ruess music (Fun., yes, but also stuff from when he sang with The Format).

Bex (indirectly) encouraged me to read Bukowski and watch The Big Bang Theory.  These are all reasons Bex is the bomb.edu, but I want to talk about a post she wrote recently (real recently...like, published today) in which she basically set up camp inside my brain and put into words many of the things that I haven't been able to quite articulate yet.  Here in a moment or two, I'm going to straight up copy/paste some of her sentiments and then add my comments.  But first...

Anyone who knows me (and knows me well) will have noticed that, over the past 10 months or so, I have made some pretty drastic changes.  I stopped drinking soda, cleaned up my eating, and lost 20lbs (and counting, I hope).  I stopped drinking alcohol. I started spending more time at home. I got back into a habit of spending time with the Bible and reading my devotional emails and trying to live a Christ-focused life. I started saying "no" to things.

I'm trying to simplify.

All of these things have made a couple of things very clear to me...the first and most important was that I needed to start making Christ a priority again.  The (very close) second was that I have not been the type of wife I should've been trying to be from "I do." The third was that, even with all these awesome internet friends...all you really need is a close circle of real life friends.  K.I.S.S. and all that.  Keep it simple, stupid.

I'm trying to recognize which friendships are worth cultivating and making daily, real effort to maintain, and recognize which ones are surface, online, fringe friendships that probably don't need to take up a whole lot of energy or drama or stress. Please understand what I'm saying here. Nobody is a throw-away friend. I wish ill on nobody. All I'm saying is...simplify. 

I need to prioritize.

What makes me happy? Actually, what makes my husband happy? What makes my Creator happy? Is what I'm doing making all 3 of us happy? Because that's what matters.

So onto the Lovely Bex and her amazing words that seemed to reflect what I've been stressing over lately:

I'm here to tell you that sometimes it's okay to be selfish. There's a difference between being selfish and being self-centered in that selfish can be temporary, whereas self-centered rarely is. Sometimes you're worn down by constant demands that are made by loved ones and/or coworkers. Hell, sometimes you demand too much of yourself. It's okay to take a step back and breathe, because here's something that took me too damn long to learn -- it's okay to say "no" to people. You can say no to hanging out if you want to stay in. You can say no to a phone conversation if you know that you'll just be dead air to the other end of the line. You can say no to favors. If your friends know you well enough, they'll back off. They know as well as you do that if they had a crisis in the middle of the night, you'd still show up with no hesitation. Needing time to yourself is not synonymous with being a jerk.

Word, Bex.

You guys, if I'm saying "no" to things and wanting to stay home instead of going to the bars, or not taking the ONE day I have off and going to see your show, stop taking it personally. It's not you, it's me. I just need to recharge. I need to do what's best for me. 

It's okay to re-prioritize your life even though some people may not make the cut... and it's okay not to miss those people, too. Usually it means you've made the right decision. You'll get nostalgic occasionally, but it's mostly nostalgia for the fun or the happiness you had with the people in question. In our everlasting instinct to want to think the best of people, our memories turn to the happy times when we reminisce. If you've ever been upset over the end of a crappy relationship, you know how this goes. People change. You change. As the age-old proverb goes, change is the only constant.

Speaking of which, it's okay to change. You are not betraying anyone by growing as a person (and if they act like it is a betrayal, seriously, it's time to re-evaluate your social circle). Life is too short to pretend to be something or someone you're not just to appease other people or keep from hurting their feelings. Some people want to travel, others are homebodies. Some people want to get married, some will never get out of their party animal stage. Some people want kids, some people don't. Some people need friends outside of their marriage, others are perfectly content with their spouse and their family.  It's okay to be any of these things, as long as you don't lie to others -- or yourself -- about who you really are and where your heart truly is.

Some of those are...whoa...I mean get out of my head, Bex. The colored text (I added the color to point it out) is something I've been trying to verbalize for a couple of weeks now.  

Facebook has put a pressure on all of us to hang out all the time and stay completely invested in the lives of our 400 friends. I really wish I had a nickel for every time I've seen an "I miss you so much let's hang out!" and it just seems...rote. Borderline insincere at times.  But here's the thing...it's okay! I really don't mind if you don't wanna hang out with me; nor should you mind ("you" being the general population here, of course) if I only want to stay informed of your life based on what you choose to share on social media. It's really, really okay. I love seeing parts of your life, "liking" your photos and whatnot...but it's really really okay if we don't keep putting this ridiculous pressure on finding a time to get coffee, which is probably something neither of us really wants to do, so let's just be honest about that. 

I don't expect my hundreds of Facebook friends (does that make me sound like an a-hole? I don't mean to...) to put in a whole lot of effort to keep up with me outside my public timeline. I won't do the same for all of them.  Put that energy into the friendships worth cultivating, and you'll save everyone a lot of hurt feelings and awkwardness. It's really okay.

Re: it's okay to change -- yes.  It's okay for me to change.  It's okay if you change. It's okay if you don't change. I don't drink alcohol at the moment...I don't care if you DO.  I want to stay home with my husband on a Friday night...I don't care if you wanna go OUT.  It's okay to be different and to have different priorities. I don't feel judged at all for my recent choices, but it's important to me that my friends know that neither do I judge them for theirs (unless they are harmful, of course, but that's coming from a place of concern and compassion, not judgment).

If someone is incandescently happy, don't you think you should be happy for them too?  Don't you think that they might have walked through the fires of hell to get to their happiness? Don't you think that if you focused a little bit more on yourself and how to escape your struggles that you'd eventually find your own happiness (and want to shout about it from the rooftops)?  I mean, I know it takes less effort to sit, sulk, and snark (and if that's what you choose to do, then I sincerely pity you) ... but what will you ever truly accomplish with your life if that's your attitude toward someone you claim to love who is happy?

Okay Bex, I hear ya. This one, I am guilty of doing to others. Part of my personal growth in the last year has been learning to recognize and admit to my flaws.  This is one of mine.  I get bitter, sometimes. I get angry when I feel like others seem to have every possible fortune bestowed upon them, when I'm struggling to make ends meet or don't get cast in a show or....am having a fat day while they (rightly) announce meeting their next weight loss milestone. I don't think I tend to dwell (for long, anyway) on my struggles so much, but I DO have to fight a knee-jerk reaction to be bitter, rather than happy for friends. I have to be proactive about remembering my own gifts and blessings and talents.

I'm...working on it. And yes, I know that "I'm working on it" and "I'm aware of it" do not give me carte blanche to be an asshole.  I'm going to mess up and struggle, but please know that it is something I'm aware of.

I recently turned 31. I'll blog about the actual birthday and all of it's awesomeness soon (all my pictures are at home, and by the time I get home, I'm sick of looking at a computer screen). I thought that, by my 30s, I'd have more of this all figured out.

I don't.

But I'm making changes, and they feel good. I truly hope the same for you...for my "fringe friends" and for my close friends, I wish you the same clarity and simple happiness...whether that comes on a quiet patio with a cup of coffee or surrounded by music and loud laughter and talking and people!

And I ask your forgiveness if I've hurt you or made you feel judged or unhappy on this journey of mine. It's my responsibility to not take the stumbling blocks along the way and use them as an excuse to bring you down with me.

Now, go get yourself another cookie (or bagel, or pickle, or whatever it is you are craving) for making it through another long post!

Fightin' the Forces

"For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places." -- Eph. 6:12

Exhibits A and B above both were shown to me this morning between my Facebook and Twitter feeds, respectively.  George Takei posted the photo on his Facebook timeline, and something a friend tweeted reminded me about that Bible verse, so I went and looked it up. 

Lately, as artists are wont to do, I have struggled with the most ridiculous insecurity. It's not coming from anything specific...nobody is making me feel badly about myself as a performer or anything like that. I've lost weight. I'm doing a fabulous show with an incredible theatre, where I'm used more and more with each passing production.  I love my costumes. I love my hairstyle for the show.  I'm completely surrounded by wonderful people.

But still, that nagging, evil little insecure voice finds its way into my brain and brings on the waves of self-doubt and negativity.  I'm not going to blame myself anymore, though.  Read that verse again.  I believe it to be true.  These voices are coming directly from the Enemy and attacking my weakest areas, causing me to think I need to try harder, audition for more shows, eat less...and not in the healthy, productive way in which all of those things can be done but, instead, in the obsessive, messed-up priorities, selfish way that has gotten me into trouble before.

When logic prevails, I think back on the past 11 months (I'm starting with Café des Artistes last November) and I am incredibly proud of the work I've done as an artist, as a Christian, as a person trying to get healthier, as a wife, and as a friend.  It's incredible (and incredibly sad) to me how easily and how quickly that switch can be flipped.  How I can be so proud and happy and then look upon a series of show photos and feel "You're the biggest person on that stage.  Look how fat your face looks.  God, you don't look like anyone else up there, what are you even doing?!"  Or to know in my heart of hearts that I'm thrilled for a friend's successes but still think "It wasn't you this time. You weren't even considered.  Why would you be, though? You've got a long way to go."

(that inner voice is a real bitch, huh?)

This is not coming from a healthy place of bettering myself and pushing myself to reach higher goals.  This is a darker, more sinister force that is trying to halt the progress I've made, trying to make me feel like nothing I'm doing is quite enough, trying to get me to focus completely on myself and how I can make my selfish desires come to pass.

The good news? I'm aware of it.  I know that there are ways to better myself that simultaneously bring happiness and joy to my life that will radiate outward to others around me. That I can push myself to be better without the only result being my own selfish gain. 

Eleanor Roosevelt has been quoted as saying, "Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent."  Well, consider my consent not given. I do not give anyone, physical or spiritual, permission to bring me down and cause me to focus on negativity, insecurity or doubt. 

Friend-Makin' Mondays -- Goals

As a blogger/blog-fan, I'm much more of a reader/lurker than I am consistently a commenter/participant.  But sometimes I'll see or feel a prompt that makes me want to express my own thoughts.  Kenlie is always good at that, with her thoughtful Friend-Makin' Mondays posts.  Today's was one that gave me a push to play along...

Goals and More

1. Brag about some of your daily, healthy habits. I drink a lot of water, and I do not drink soda of any kind. -- I'm stealing Kenlie's answer here, because this is a new habit of mine that I'm really proud of.  I don't even miss soda.  Occasionally, I'll feel like I want something sweet to drink, but usually a green tea will do the trick.  I think I just get bored of coffee and water and need to introduce something new to my palate on a given day.

2. Do you track your daily food intake? If so, how? When I first started my journey after the Day of Reckoning back in late 2009, I counted calories.  It worked REALLY well. Now, I find that I resent it after a couple of days, and I don't necessarily eat well just because I'm tracking calories. So I don't track anymore.  I try to eat mostly natural things that come from the earth and aren't processed (very much), and I have become very aware of my portion sizes.  So far it's working and I feel great.

3. What do you want to change most about your daily routine? I want to get up earlier!! Whether it's to get my workout in early, or to be at work early so I can LEAVE early and ALWAYS have time to get a workout in. I am the worst about filling up my schedule and then making excuses about why I don't have time to exercise.

4. How often do you exercise? Several times a week...in a good week I'll work out 4-5 times, for at least 30 minutes.

5. How do you stay on track when you’re on the go? I'm....not very good at this.  But I'm trying.  Cutting out sodas and (most) sugar and all the stuff I mentioned above has led to me actually feeling SICK if I make a poor choice -- my stomach can't handle it -- but I'm trying to keep myself armed with good snacks and NOT put myself into a position where I'm starving, unarmed, and not thinking clearly.

6. What’s one excuse you use that prevents you from reaching your goals? "I've already lost _____ and my husband thinks I'm hot and I can wear super cute clothes, so why try any harder to meet my goal weight?"

7. What scares your most about your journey? This...this one almost deserves its own blog post.  I'm scared of doing all of it for the wrong reason -- which is vanity and selfishness and desire for attention. It got me into a REALLY BAD mental state last time, so I've been afraid to lose weight again.  I know, that's vague.

8. What do you think will change most when you reach your goal? (If you have reached it, what’s different?) If I'm doing it for the right reasons, I'm hoping that I will have made a lasting change in my life regarding what I put into my body and how I view my body.

9. What motivates you to reach your goals? My most recent motivation has been that my husband and I are probably going to start trying to start a family this fall.  I want to be in the best shape I can be before I'm a host to a fetus for nine months.  Also, I'd like to be able to get through L&D more easily, for which I can prepare by getting into great shape and trimming down. I also want to ultimately set a good example for my child(ren).

10. Share a few of your goals.

• Reach my goal weight (which is also my OB/GYN's suggestion for me) before I get pregnant.
• Be able to stop doing the modified versions of yoga poses and amp it up a bit.
• Be able to do a "boy push-up."
•  Make working out a habit, rather than something I sometimes have to force myself to do.

#reverbbroads11 Day 1 - To My Younger Self: Be Kind

With everything I had going on in November, there was no way in hell I was going to be able to participate in NaBloPoMo (I get irrationally angry at that acronym, by the way...it just upsets me), but one of the gals I met through the Flickr "7 Days" project, Kassie, has helped to start up a cool blogging prompt thingy (like my technical term?) for the month of December. It's called the Reverb Project, and we shall thus be called the Reverb Broads. Woo hoo! The daily prompts are selected by the bloggers, and we can participate...or not!

My kinda project.

Anywho, today's prompt just happened to be PERFECT, considering the events of last night. Here is the prompt:

"If the you of today could go back in time and give advice to any of the previous yous, which age would you visit and what would you tell them?"

Well, let me get to that in a second.  But first...

Last night, as I posted about the other day, I went with the Denton Women's Collective to Flower Mound High School to help host a screening of the documentary Finding Kind. We invited girls ages 5th grade and up, their mothers, teachers, counselors...any female who wanted to attend.  We hoped for a good turnout...

Over 500 people showed up.  Yep, we were completely overwhelmed (in a good way!).  The girls watched the 77-minute documentary with rapt attention, and afterwards we DWC members and the HS counselors facilitated a discussion, during which SO MANY brave young girls participated, shared their stories, cried, hugged each other, applauded each other...

It was, in a word, incredibly moving.  Okay so that's two words.  But seriously. 

The girls filled out 3 sheets of paper: a Kind Pledge, a Kind Card, and a Kind Apology, which they could deliver themselves to the apology recipient or have the counselors deliver for them.  The Kind Cards and Kind Pledges will be put up on a "Kind Wall" at the school so that the girls and the other students can see it every day and be reminded of their pledges to be kind.

During the discussion portion of the evening, which I helped facilitate, one little girl stood up in front of these 500 other girls and said (not verbatim), "Girls at school will tell me that I'm ugly or fat, and I hate that I start to believe it. When I look in the mirror sometimes, I just start crying.  This has to stop." 

The tears came faster than I could stop them, and my throat was immediately constricted with emotion as I suddenly saw my younger self standing in the audience with a microphone. 

And it wasn't just the students.  During the portion of the evening while we were filling out cards, I had several mothers ask me, with tears in their eyes, for a few apology cards they could fill out.

Only recently, at age 30, have I come to fully realize that no matter my background, no matter how much I weigh or what brand of clothing I wear, no matter my hair color or how "pretty" I am...what matters is that I am kind.  To others and to myself.  That's the legacy that matters.  The kindness in my heart will show as beauty in my face and in my actions, and that's what people will remember.  I hope.

SO TO FINALLY ADDRESS TODAY'S PROMPT:

I would go back to that just-before-middle-school-aged-Mandy and tell her the following:

"Look, the next few years are going to be hard.  People are going to be mean, and some days you might cry or feel badly about yourself.  But what you have to remember is this: people hurt others because they hurt.  Love them. Be kind to them, no matter what they do or say to you.  It won't be easy, but I know you can do it.  Also, don't be so quick to judge others.  You'll think it makes you feel better about yourself to find something wrong with other people, especially girls...but really it will just make you feel bad and really guilty later on. 

And, sweet girl...if you ever look into the mirror and cry, I want it to be because you are completely and utterly overwhelmed with the blessings and the love you have in your life. 

You can do it.  Be kind."

Last night I filled out my own Kind Pledge. It says, "I KINDly pledge to find something beautiful about everyone, and tell them about it at every opportunity."  There is something beautiful about everyone...the trick is taking the time and caring enough to find it.  And it may be something that person has never been told, so tell them.

Final Note: This morning my little brother and sister-in-law went to the doctor for a 16-week sonogram and called me to tell me that they're having a girl!  I'm overjoyed, naturally.  But it made me stop and think...I pray that I will be a good role model and Aunt to my 11-year-old niece and my yet-to-be-born niece, and if I have a daughter some day, to her as well.  Girl-on-girl "crime" and gossip and manipulation and cattiness and competition...it has to stop.  I pray that these little girls in my life will be daily aware of how special and loved and wonderful they are.

It starts with me.  It starts with you. 

What would your Kind Pledge say?  Is there anyone you feel needs or deserves a Kind Apology from you?

Mermaids vs. Whales

I've seen the following photo posted on Facebook with the text in italics as its "caption."  It currently has nearly 200,000 "likes," around 140,000 "shares," and over 60,000 comments.  Obviously I haven't read all the comments, but I'd like to share my thoughts below the italicized text.



(this is the picture that accompanied the post on Facebook)

 A while back, at the entrance of a gym, there was a picture of a very thin and beautiful woman. The caption was "This summer, do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?"

The story goes, a woman (of clothing size unknown) answered the following way:

 "Dear people, whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, seals, curious humans), they are sexually active and raise their children with great tenderness. They entertain like crazy with dolphins and eat lots of prawns. They swim all day and travel to fantastic places like Patagonia, the Barents Sea or the coral reefs of Polynesia. They sing incredibly well and sometimes even are on cds. They are impressive and dearly loved animals, which everyone defend and admires.

Mermaids do not exist. But if they existed, they would line up to see a psychologist because of a problem of split personality: woman or fish? They would have no sex life and could not bear children. Yes, they would be lovely, but lonely and sad. And, who wants a girl that smells like fish by his side?

Without a doubt, I'd rather be a whale. At a time when the media tells us that only thin is beautiful, I prefer to eat ice cream with my kids, to have dinner with my husband, to eat and drink and have fun with my friends.

We women, we gain weight because we accumulate so much wisdom and knowledge that there isn't enough space in our heads, and it spreads all over our bodies. We are not fat, we are greatly cultivated. Every time I see my curves in the mirror, I tell myself: "How amazing am I ?! " (The girl on the picture is French model Tara Lynn)

Allow me to begin with my rant to the gym which posted this sign (allegedly -- I've yet to see or even look for proof of this.  For all we know it's fake and has just gone viral).  WHAT THE HELL, GYM?  Do you really think that's going to help anyone? Do you know how many people have a hard enough time getting up the nerve to even GO to the gym, a place where people in spandex do things that make body parts jiggle that they didn't even know they had?

How about, rather than making women feel even worse about themselves, you do something else.  Something actually inspiring, rather than berating and insulting.  Put up a picture of a normal sized woman crossing a finish line, shooting a basketball or swinging a tennis racket.  Make the caption something like "Feel better this summer than you ever have!  Ask us how we can help!"

Stupid gym.

Now, onto the woman's response.  I had a friend on Facebook comment on my post (I expressed annoyance and mild disgust at this whole thing) that she just took the woman's response at face value. That it's just a metaphor.  I get that, I really do.  And I'm glad if it makes some women feel better, which it most surely has. But a good metaphor is one that is well thought-out.  This is just a bad metaphor that, frankly, offends me as a writer.

Things she says just don't make sense.  Such as her tirade against mermaids, during which she says, "They would have no sex life...who wants a girl that smells like fish by his side?" Um...so a man would prefer an even larger ACTUAL fish in his bed (the whale)? At least mermaids have boobs.  Poll 100 men and say "Real, 100% fish in your bed, or half-fish with great tits that maybe just smells like a fish?"  See what I'm sayin'?  BAD METAPHOR.

Now here is where I'm gonna hurt some feelings.  So get ready for it.

The part I take MOST ISSUE with is this: "We women, we gain weight because we accumulate so much wisdom and knowledge that there isn't enough space in our heads, and it spreads all over our bodies. We are not fat, we are greatly cultivated."

Um...hold on.  What?  Women gain weight because of their awesomeness?  My achievements and education and great knowledge is all manifested in my thighs and my ass?  I'm not fat, I'm cultivated!!

Wrong.

The thing is...I don't know the woman who wrote this response.  I don't know how old she is or what she looks like or anything about her station in life.  But I do know this...that response has a tone of painful familiarity for me.

As a former "fat" girl and a girl who still has some (ROCKIN') curves (I don't mind telling you I'm a size 12)...curves that I have enhanced and earned by working hard and making healthy choices (or trying to) regularly...I'm gonna say that I call bullshit.  You know why?  Because I have said those things:

"I'd rather be happy than thin!"

"Who wants to diet when I'm getting quality time with my friends eating cheese fries and drinking beer? I AM HAPPIER THAN THAT SKINNY GIRL AND/OR THAT GIRL BUSTING IT AT THE GYM 3 TIMES A WEEK!"

Then you know what I'd do?  I'd go home and get up the next morning and cry silently because nothing fit right and I didn't feel good or confident in any of my clothes.  Because I wasn't actually happy.  Not with myself.  Not 100%.  Yes, my life was (and is) filled with wonderful people and incredible moments.  But then the dust cleared and I was left looking at myself in the mirror, I wasn't actually happy.

So I made healthy changes and wanted to look better for ME.  And guess what happened when I lost weight?? I KEPT ALL THAT OTHER AWESOME STUFF LIKE WISDOM AND KNOWLEDGE AND GENERAL AWESOMENESS.

In fact, I'd say I earned even more throughout the process of becoming healthier.

Look, I understand that the woman is angry because the gym made such a ridiculous, extreme statement.  Extremes are rarely a good thing.  My response would have been, "Wait, THESE are my choices?? Mermaid or whale?"  And then I would've switched gyms.

Actually, I probably would've scheduled a time to talk with a manager or head of personal training or PR for the gym or whatever and calmly explained how harmful I thought the sign was.  But that's who I am in the world.

But getting all up in arms and turning an already ridiculous metaphor into something more ridiculous is not actually helping future generations of women.  Rather than telling them that being a whale is awesome, how about we tell them how awesome it is to be healthy?  That it prolongs their life, that it makes them feel better and feel more accomplished and feel sexier (ask my husband how much his life has improved since I started loving who I am more)?

 I think that would do much more good than continuing to make the case for "extremes."



Aaaaaand SCENE. 

My First Race and lots of CAPS LOCK

Hello friends! I apologize for the lack of content over the past week. Last week? Was INSANE. I was SO busy and SO stressed and a lot went down but it's all over now and it's a NEW WEEK and it's currently SEVENTY-ONE degrees outside (it was 57 when I left the house) and I feel like a NEW PERSON after a very releaxing weekend.

CAPS LOCK.

So, I want to talk about something really cool that happened yesterday, on Labor Day...

I RAN MY FIRST 5k!

It was the Labor of Love 1k, 5k and 10k races sponsored by Stonebridge Racers in McKinney, TX.  The lovely Sarah over at Sarah Snacks sponsored my entry fee (how awesome is THAT? she has met me ONE TIME), and it was just a really cool experience.  I'm feeling newly motivated after running yesterday, but more on that later.  Let's talk about the race!

The race was supposed to start at 8am, so my goal was to be there by 7am to get my registration and bib, stretch, and just kind of get myself in a good mental place.  So that meant leaving the house by 6:15am.  Here's a brief rundown of how the night/morning before went:

8:30pm -- took melatonin and drank a bottle of water and got into bed with a book guaranteed to not stimulate the mind too much (a biography of Mary Tudor, aka "Bloody Mary," if you're wondering).

9:00pm -- start falling asleep.  Put book down and turn off lights.  Say prayers.

10:30pm -- wake up after a nightmare that I broke an ankle.  Go to bathroom.  Go back to bed.

11:30pm -- wake up after nightmare that I ran the wrong course and got lost.  Go to bathroom.  Go back to bed.

12:30am -- wake up after nightmare that I overslept and missed the race.  Go to bathroom (water before bed may not have been the best idea).  Ask husband to please come to bed so he won't be a grouch in the morning. 

1:30am -- still awake.  Husband snoring.  Get up and go to couch.  Sleep on and off until 5am when alarm goes off. 

5:15am -- get up after updating Facebook status, go outside and nearly cry tears of joy that it's so beautifully cool outside.  Eat breakfast (Frosted Flakes with banana). 

5:30am -- wash face.  Wake up husband.  Tell him it's 60 degrees outside.  Why isn't he more excited to be awake?

5:35am -- stretch.  Watch ESPN while husband eats breakfast.  Try not to nag him to hurry up and go shower so we aren't late. 

5:50am -- physically turn off television and get reprimanded for turning off ESPN during baseball playoffs talk.  Give a Look.  Husband gets in shower. 

6:20am -- leave for the race!

7:00am -- arrive at race site. Get bib and spend at least 10 minutes getting it straight on my shirt.  Take obligatory self portrait:

Then take picture of sweet puppy who is being so good despite being SO EXCITED about seeing other people and other pups:

7:45am -- meet up with Laura (photographer, not pictured) and Sarah (right) and Laura's cousin Jennifer (center).  Take pre-race picture.  Start feeling super nervous.

7:59am -- head to starting line with Sarah (Jennifer would be starting the 10k a few minutes after the 5k started).  Take a quick picture of the lovely view around the Stonebridge Beach Club. (I didn't take pics during the race, even though there were a few LOVELY spots. More on that later).

8:02am -- start race! 

8:44am -- FINISH RACE. Laura takes the most epic finish line pic of me...which was inspired by Caitlin's blog about taking awesome race pics.  No, I didn't hurt myself.  Yes, I made one of the race volunteers laugh.

8:45am -- Find husband and pup (they'd been on a long walk, too).  Get water.  And watermelon!  Take pic together (note that both of our Red Sox hats are getting pretty gross.  I think that's the mark of a good hat.).

9:15am -- get in car.  Put on official race shirt and SMILE that I DID IT!

You guys! I ran a 5k!

Was it my best time ever?  Not hardly.  Was it hard?  At times, yes.  This course had some WICKED hills in it.  I'm not talking about "oh hey, this suddenly seems hard...I must be running uphill."  I'm talking "holy crap where did the runners in front of me go??" hills because they were so steep. 

Luckily I had a rockin' playlist that I custom-made based on previous runs and corresponding shuffles and how certain songs made me feel while running.  That helped a lot.

There was only one time where I got genuinely frustrated, and that was around the 2 mile mark, after all the worst of the hills.  I slowed down to a brisk walk at the water station and, after throwing away my cup, started back to running and immediately had to stop and walk again because I couldn't catch my breath.  I was wearing Laura's Garmin (AND NOW I WANT ONE) and I was frustrated that I was going more slowly than I'd hoped, and I did not want to be walking but I knew I needed to catch my breath if I didn't want to finish the race at a walk. 

Then I told myself to stop being crazy and just catch my breath and get over it and start running again when I was ready. 

My goals were to:

* Take pictures (check)
* Take some pictures along the route (NO check.  There was one point where I wanted to take a pic b/c the view was so pretty, but I was hitting my stride and didn't want to break it just for a picture.  I'm glad I listened to my gut.  Too bad there was nothing pretty to look at during the aforementioned unwanted walk break).
* Finish in under 45 minutes (check. According to my MapMyRun app I was at 42:00 exactly)
* Have a pace <14:00/mile (check.  13:17/mile according to MMR app)
* Get an awesome finish line pic (check)
* ENJOY MYSELF (CHECK!)

In the 24-ish hours since the race, I've done a lot of thinking.  I feel SO accomplished, and I'm anxious to run again tomorrow.  However, I looked at a couple of the professional pictures of me along the race and concluded the following:

* I really have let myself go a little with eating, and that's why, despite my run schedule of late, I'm still not losing weight in the areas I need/want to (stomach...)
* I have to start cross-training on non-running days again.  That's why my calves don't look as good as they did last summer, when I was doing yoga AND running AND elliptical-ing.  (I was also tapping during a show, but whatever).

Please be aware, I am not focusing on these more negative thoughts.  But shouldn't we learn some things after a race/event that we'd like to improve in our healthy living aspirations?  I think it's okay that, despite my thrill at having done the race, I have also found areas to improve upon. 

I'm excited and already starting to look towards running another race (or more!) this fall!  Thank you all for your support via Twitter, Facebook and emails yesterday!  You're awesome!