I have a new blog ‘look’. I should have a new blog URL too, but right now Google Custom Domain’s are down. Hence why my blog dropped off the Internet last week. So until they figure that out, we are back with the old URL, new blog :). Because it was time for a change. Brea over at Utterly Chaotic, who was so very patient and calm with me and my indecision and my freak outs, made this design for me. And I love it. The most common way someone found my blog in a search engine before? By typing in ‘though she be but little, she is fierce tattoo’ Because, well, once I showed a blog photo of that tattoo. And apparently, people are into that tattoo. So am I. That’s why I got it. I decided to use this new ‘Fierce’ blog to finally write something, months in the making, something that rattles in my head while I run and writes itself silently at night when I can’t sleep. It is decidedly not ‘fierce’. In fact, it is much more of a whimper than a war cry. More of an eventual confession than a victory yell. 2 months ago, I moved to this city. When people ask how I am adjusting, I always say the same thing. ‘It’s a beautiful city.’ And that’s not a lie. The lake, the trees, the old buildings and the abundance of climbing ivy…. it’s gorgeous. And let’s face it, that’s what you want to hear, right? Because the truth is decidedly less fun. No one wants to…
– One who rarely drinks should not take an ativan before an early morning flight, eat nothing all day then grab a couple glasses of wine and questionable calamari unless one would like to be vomiting in the bushes outside the Eastside Mario’s at 11pm. Happy 11th Anniversary, babe, I thought for good measure I’d make you hold my hair like we were 17 again. – Living in a city on a lake means beautiful views, amazing weather and absolutely no chance of me having a good hair day for the next 3 years. 12 hours in the city and my hair sprung out in curls no chi iron will ever hold down. – This was the first time since Freckles was born almost 10 years ago that DH and I have been alone for more than one night. All the good intentions in the world aren’t getting me up in the morning to run during that. The alarm went off each morning and every single time finding DH in the super huge king-size bed and cuddling back for a few more minutes sleep next to him seemed infinitely more appealing. At the time I felt guilty. I got over it. Now that we are back to life I am so glad I did. – I have been spoiled by rental cars, heated seats and climate control. My 2002 Winstar with the broken key fob and the back gate that only occasionally unlocks just isn’t stacking up anymore. – I am completely and hopelessly in love with the man who still opens my car door, holds my hair back when I’m sick in public and instinctively takes the side of…
So I have these friends… And lately, things kinda really a whole lot suck for them. I wish they were closer. I could bring over chocolate and coffee and just BE their friend. But a while back they followed God’s call somewhere else. It makes the suck that much…. suckier. (I should really invest in a thesaurus.) I was thinking about these friends while I was running this past week. Lately, I’ve been getting up really, really early to run. I have no idea why the time change had the opposite effect on me than it should have, but I get up earlier than I ever did before. Last Friday, I was up before the clock hit 5. That’s right, my alarm was set to a time that started with a 4. How sick is that? But I need to get out and back before my hubby leaves for work. And apparently I decided to start that habit the week DH had to be at work a little earlier than usual. So to be home for him to leave at 6, I needed to be out the door before 5. It’s a different little town I live in before 5 a.m. Dead silent. Dark. But not the 8p.m. dark when it still feels like the light is lingering even though it’s long gone. 5am dark is even darker. It’s the dark with the anticipation of the sunrise that’s still a couple hours away. I wanted to share with my friends what I have learned on these early morning runs. And just for fun, lets share that with you, too. My big epiphany…
There’s understandably a lot of talk about New Years Resolutions. On my social media, they tend to be in two different varieties. On the one hand are the people who are making resolutions about their health. They are going to a gym, working out, dieting, eating better, etc. http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2011/12/47a92385-a9e9-4c27-82c9-e9d994130b2f.jpg On the other hand there are those who already live a pretty healthy life who are annoyed by all the new ‘heathy people’ crowding out their equipment at the gym with their ‘doomed to fail’ resolutions. As I have mentioned before, I lost some weight this past year. About 50lbs, to be exact. So while I was on vacation visiting my parents and in-laws, I got a lot of this: “wow, you look amazing, what did you do?” “Holy crap, you’re tiny. Good for you. How’d you do it?” or my personal (un)favorite “Holy! Where did your boobs go?!” For the record, I did not work that hard all year for the majority of people to point out first the drastic change in my bust line. That being said, almost everyone wants to know my ‘secret’. How did I do it? What can they do for the same results. And they are almost always annoyed by my answer, “I eat less. And I run and work out. Mostly, I eat less”. Then they always ask “Well, what do you eat?” “Less. I eat less. I didn’t cut one thing out or switch to shakes or start a program or take a…
Running is really just one moment after another of willing myself to keep going even after I really, really want to stop. Most of those moments suck. Some suck less. Here are some of those moments. Here’s to the moment…. … when I realize that my head has been telling me I couldn’t move another step for 10 minutes but my feet haven’t stopped moving. … when I see someone I know and all of a sudden that extra energy I didn’t think I had moves me that much faster so I look like I am doing better than I am. (ahh, vanity….) … when I get to the end of the run and realize I could have run a little longer. … when someone says ‘I saw you running yesterday’. Cause having people say that makes me ‘someone who runs’. And how cool is that. … when I have convinced myself that this is what I look like instead of the snotty, jiggly, red faced, sweaty reality. … when my favorite song comes on right on the last 400 metres and I sprint to the finish. The moment is even better when there are people out to see how awesome I came in. (again, wow. Who knew I was that vain?) … when my constant attempt to think about anything except how much longer I have left leads to me an epiphany. Like it did this week. I have a love/hate relationship with my scale. I have found that I am a more balanced and less frustrated person when I weigh myself regularly. The fluctuations over the week and the month bother me less when I take…
Random Musings from the Loops for Troops 5k – I hate running. I like winning at stuff. They balance each other out, as long as I think I’m winning. And my definition of winning is pretty broad. 5k for your average runner is a warm up. I have no intention of ever running more. I’ll just get as good as I can at this. – At 4.5k I’m completely exhausted. I am trying to focus on the finish line and it’s all I can do to stay upright. Then my dh says to his dad “this is a great pace, I could run at this pace forever” and I want to punch him but I’m scared I’ll fall over from the effort. – My daughter hid from the Stampede Horse mascot but ran to the guy in combats standing next to the tank with the big gun. That can’t be a good sign. – Can a spouse have survivor’s guilt? Sometimes seeing the family of a fallen soldier makes me feel more than a little guilty. It’s hard to wrap my head around why mine came home and their husband/son/brother did not. I thought that feeling might fade in time, but it hasen’t. It won’t make me stop wanting to meet and spend time with them, especially amazing friends we have met like Linda, but it’s always there. That’s hard for me to admit because it seems selfish and more than a little neurotic. – My dh’s newest tattoo has more meaning on days…
A friend posted something on facebook this week calling out a pop-celebrity for her lack of positive influence in the lives of young girls. When I agreed, he encouraged me to dedicate much blog space to calling her out too. But, as I stated before, I don’t write to argue or call down others, and I only tell my own stories. But that doesn’t mean I can’t point out something different, but the same. Which brings me to the story I’ve promised myself I would write for almost 2 months now but couldn’t bring myself to type. About the Loops for Troops Run in Calgary on Father’s Day. And the story starts at a weird beginning, in 2007 when I was 5 months pregnant and Dh was heading out on deployment again. Knowing that Dh has a strong faith, as he was preparing to leave on his last tour his OC asked him if he would take on a very different job than that normally required of an armoured crewman. They would be spending this tour living away from the main base outside the wire and because of this, there would be no padre serving alongside them. His OC wanted to know if Dh would be willing to stand in and lead a memorial service if, heaven forbid, one became necessary during the tour. Dh agreed. This was his 3rd time to Afghanistan and he wasn’t going to pretend the reality wasn’t there. He spent some time talking with our Pastor before he left and tried to prepare as best he could while praying it would not be needed. But less than a month into the deployment, it was. Cpl. Nathan Hornburg…
