New Year, New Goal

Operation 13.1 Before 40

There are days more frequently than I'd like to admit that I'm tired of being a stay at home Mom. It breaks my heart to type that even more than it would break my kids' hearts to read it if they ever would.  The degree I worked hard to earn so many years ago seems worthless, and the mundane duties are overwhelming and often thankless. My motivation has waned, and the thought of seeking inspiration from Mom blogs or books makes me want to puke. Unfortunately, at this point I don't know what I would pursue if I did have the opportunity to find a career for myself outside the home. I've spent years cheering on my husband, trying to encourage him, and supporting his goals and dreams, while neglecting my own and having what attempts I've made to do something good for my own well being be pretty much ignored.

I love my family deeply and am very thankful for them, but my identity somehow got buried in the piles of laundry, puke on the bedding, and 5 moves chasing the ever elusive perfect job for the main provider in 16 years. I know that we are where we're supposed to be, and this move has been better than expected, but it doesn't mean it hasn't been hard on us.

This year,  I am taking a step to change that. Last year's futile attempt was therapy... clearly that didn't work because I'm back where I started before we sunk hundreds of dollars into that.  In fact, the only thing that has consistently helped me feel better about myself and refocus has been my running.  So, this year, I'm going to tackle my biggest running related goal yet and hope that in the process, I find myself again. Because quite frankly, I don't like who I  am right now. I don't remember who my husband fell in love with so many years ago, but it certainly wasn't the person I am now.

There, I said it. If you know me and are reading this in real life, you can pray however you see fit.  It is what it is, I don't expect you to understand.  And you certainly can't fix it.
As I mentioned in my previous post/virtual journal entry, running has become a kind of therapy.  It has helped me set goals, dream beyond my expectations, and push myself farther than I knew I could go.  I have found unexpected friends who have encouraged me when I have felt like quitting, but learned that ultimately, the distance I cover is my own choice.  My own calling. In this past year of instability and transition, I ran when I could, which wasn't much.... less than 250 miles  But every mile counted. Every mile kept me from giving up.

I know I sound like a sulking teenager, but believe it or not, this year is a milestone birthday.  And since I can't decide on a career that utilizes my abilities, and I'm pretty much failing miserably at the homemaking gig and need a distraction, and I just need something for myself (as selfish as that sounds and feels when I feel like I do nothing else right, anyway), I have set a goal.

This year, I'm going to finish a half marathon, hopefully injury free.  I may journal my training progress on here occasionally... so that some day, I can look back and see how far I've come... literally and figuratively. Training takes discipline.  

That's one of my biggest weaknesses. Oh, I was an education major, I know all about the concepts of goal setting, breaking things down into manageable steps, etc.
I fail at the execution.  I'm more like an absent minded philosophy or literature professor who enjoys discussing concepts and ideas.

This won't be easy.

There was a day when I said running a mile was harder than a natural childbirth. Praise the Lord, that day has passed.  The farthest I have ever run is 9 miles, and that was a year and a half ago with my faithful running companion who pushed me to challenge myself.
I haven't run more than 4 miles in over a year, and by run, I mean run some and walk some.  I will always mean that.  It counts.  I'm not in it for speed, I'm in it for distance.

I will do it whether or not anyone cheers for me along the route or at the finish line.6 races down and not once has my family met me at a finish line. Not a single one.  Not even the 10k.  Oh, I tried not to let it bother me.  We had family in town, it was early, it would be hard to wrangle the kids, etc... 

No wonder I feel like what I do doesn't matter.  The most my family could do was step outside the front door and wave as I passed by during the race that went through our neighborhood, which was my very first. Well, it would be nice to be supported, but I'm not going to count on it. Period. I know better. Of course, if I do share this, then if they come, I'll probably feel like it is just out of duty.  Catch 22.

Everything has a price.
I'm tired of believing I'm not worth it. Of living like I'm not worth having my own goals and dreams, family comes first.  Somewhere down deep in my soul I believe that my Creator loves and redeems me, and it's time to show it. At least, I tell people I believe it.  To trust that He will help me reach this goal, and in the process work through some of my other baggage and find healing.  Some things cost monetary value, other sacrifices are personal or emotional. It's hard to be a light for others when your smothered by darkness.
While I publish this?  I don't know yet.  It's raw, it's vulnerable, it's honest. 
It reflects where I am at this point and some of what has happened. Nothing is exaggerated.
Operation 13.1 before 40 has officially commenced.... I've paid my registration and chosen my training plan.  Bring it on. I'm going to prove to myself that I can do it.
 

My daughter and I did one 5k together last fall, which was amazing to do with her. I hope she is able to move past her insecurities better than I have as she matures. I hope, at the very least, she knows that her Mom will always be cheering for her in whatever she does, believing she can do so much more than she realizes.

****

4/8/16  

I just realized I never did post this.  I originally wrote the above in February.  Well... here it is. I am pleased to report that 3 weeks into my training "plan" (I use the term loosely, it's quite modified) my completed distances are right on track for where I should be according to my target distance chart.  I'm off to a good start. The family is supposedly planning on meeting me at the finish line, but to be honest, I am not holding my breath on that.

 

Therapy

Approximately a year ago, I sought professional counseling for my anxiety and depression for the first time.  I'd like to see I reached some breakthrough and snapped out of my melancholy.  Unfortunately, time and circumstances did not really allow that.

What counseling did was give me a safe place.  For each session, I knew I had that time to myself, to say aloud whatever I wanted about how I felt, to cry, to yell, to sit and be listened to uninterrupted.   It helped.  In the middle of the beginning of yet another transitional stage in my life, it helped.

Counseling was one form of therapy, but I have sought other forms throughout the years.  For a time, blogging was one.  Then I decided it's not really safe to share my deepest, darkest secrets in the abyss of the internet.  Before the internet, I journaled.  I have several.  When I struggled with post-partum depression, that is what my OB/Gyn recommended alongside medication, when the idea of coordinating counseling stressed me out.  Yep, it did.

And then came running.  Or walking. Both, really.  Intentional setting aside of time for my physical and mental health.  In addition to the physical benefits, the time to myself has been priceless. Whether it's been through our neighborhood, on a road, on the elliptical or treadmill at the gym, or my favorite, with my running buddy who met me for our first 5k and just completed her first marathon this Winter (while pregnant with TWINS, she's superwoman)... No matter where I am at, if I want to fit it in, I can.

Here are some reasons I love running:

1) It doesn't require special equipment, other than good shoes. Oh, there are tons of gadgets and apps, but really... you don't even have to have a watch if you don't want one.
2)  It comes naturally,.  Well that's not quite true.  I remember posting to Facebook that running 1/2 mile was harder than delivering a child without an epidural.  And in all honesty, I still run intervals.  My asthma and my joints require that I take walk breaks, and I prefer not to injure myself.  So far, so good.  I have two legs, it doesn't require extra special coordination.  I don't even have to run in a straight line.  I also have fairly long legs, at 5' 7", and my stride is long to begin with, which does help. But the more I train, the more I find that I want to press toward that next goal.  Once I hit the 5k mark, I wanted to try a 10k.  Now I am aiming for a half marathon.  Lord know I never imagined that for myself.  I doubt I will want to do a full marathon, but I have learned to never say never.
3) It challenges me.  I am not a great goal setter.  When I was a teacher, I was more of the creative thinker/absent minded professor.  In a world where assessments and deadlines prevail, it's no wonder I did not last very long in that profession.  Lesson planning is my weakness.  However, with running, if I want to improve, I need a plan.  I am a procrastinator, but in order to succeed injury free with more difficult goals, I HAVE to take it step by step.
4)  It's given me community.  I remember sitting in my Bible study small group hearing friends talk about their training and upcoming races and thinking, "I could never do that."  Those friends became cheerleaders. Other friends who run cheer me on, and I cheer them on, as we pursue our individual goals. While my own success or failure does not directly impact others (unless I do a relay), the encouragement we glean from each other is significant. On race day, that smile from a stranger, encouraging word, or even sarcastic joke may be just what I need to keep going or push farther.
Online forums through MRTT (Moms Run This Town) offer encouragement and opportunities to meet for training runs or meet in person at local races.  Even though I live an hour from the nearest chapter, that online support has kept me from quitting since my move to a new state.
5) It lowers my blood sugar.  It doesn't mean I can eat whatever I want, but it does make me feel less guilty for over-indulging. Sometimes. I don't want to know what my A1C would be without consistent exercise.
6) It offers solitude and reflection. I am not a gym rat.  I use the gym because I have to until I get acclimated to the Northern climate, and they have child care so I can run without pushing my 3 year old in his stroller at least a couple of times a week. In all honesty, our local gym is a little awkward for me.  I am one of the few patrons under 50 because most women my age work outside the home during the times I go, unlike the suburban South where there were lots of stay at home moms.  My favorite runs our outside, on a street or trail, where I can use landmarks to set that next goal and get my vitamin D therapy. When I ran with a buddy, sometimes we talked, which was often therapeutic and I do miss, but when I run alone it's me, my thoughts, the wind, and God. Outdoor running or walking is by far my favorite.

Right now, I would rather carve out time for this kind of therapy than any other. It helps.