Shedding

My good friend from work, K, has a mother very much like mine.  We often laugh that they are sisters separated at birth.  Trust me, it is a definite possibility.  Much of both of their youths was shrouded in secrecy.  They are pretty much the same woman.  Last week she was talking about the layers in her hair, and she said, "As we shed what our mothers taught us...."  It got me thinking how true it is that both K and I have shed so much of that crap and how much more there is to shed.  I don't know.  I guess I thought that "shedding" was a very apt description for what she and I do with what was forced upon us that was so wrong in so many ways.  I have definitely shed a lot.  So much more to go, though.
My run today started out good.  I was ready for 23.  My stubbornness did me in, though.  I was determined to stay out and finish the 23 in the humid heat with the sun beating down on me.  At mile 20, I hit the wall, a wall that I had previously said that I do not understand.  How funny is that!  I walked the last half mile home at a slow pace.  I feel ok physically.  Yes, I am worn out but nothing but my foot hurts and that is a win.  I decided today that I am saving the full 26 for the actual race.  I had previously thought I would do 27 before just so I knew I could do it.  Having done 22 once and 20 a few times, I know I can do it.  I want to save that victory of 26.2 for race day. I want to finish and feel on top of the world.  It hurts to run over 15 miles so any distance over that is exhausting in so many ways.  You are just spent at the end, but the exhilaration that comes from finishing any distance over 18 is too complicated to explain.  It is so satisfying at the same time that is exhausting beyond belief.  Good times, and today was a good run despite hitting the wall.  I would still call it a victory.  Considering how much I had going on this week at work, it is a huge victory.
This week I had to tell my husband how much I appreciated the work he is doing on himself to better our relationship.  It was so hard.  How funny is that?  I give positive feedback at work all day every day, but when it comes to telling the person I love most how much I appreciate what they are doing to help us, I struggle.  I blurted it out as quickly as I could because it was so uncomfortable.  I wonder if it will ever be easier.  I'll have to ask Dr. Mc. 
Hopefully cooler am's lie ahead.  It will help with the running.  I am sitting outside now to enjoy what are my dwindling warm evenings.  Halloween is coming up, though, and who cannot get on board with a holiday that is about candy and just fun.  No pressure of presents.  Just fun. 
I told someone earlier this week why I always read the first part of a book and then the last part of a book to start.  For me, it is all about the journey of how the book gets from the start to finish.  I have the same theory about sex, but that is another story.  The thing is that for me, it is all about the journey or path.  (Journey is overused these days.  I hate to use it because of that!)  Pretty much we know how life starts and we know how it ends, but the journey is what matters and that is the best part.  So exciting in so many ways and so scary in others.  I have vowed to not let my fear take over.  I know I will start the marathon and I know I will finish it, but it is the 4.5 hours of running in between that I waiting and that is waiting for me.  Same thing with life so I am trying to stop sprinting through it so much. 

Hope

That pretty much says it all.  Normally this time of year, I am finding a fall funk so to speak, but for the first time in a long time I feel some hope that maybe just maybe I can get back to some normalcy.  My hubby made the comment yesterday about what a great summer it has been.  Yes, it has been wonderful in so many ways, but it has been horrible in others.  My eating disorder has reared its ugly head again.  I knew one day it would come calling for me.  I feared that from time to time but never dwelt on it.  Now I fear it because it is here watching me every day and calling to me.  So why do I have hope.  I did not feel it reaching for me waiting not so patiently to see the first signs where it could pull me in.  My hubby helped that some and for the first time in a long time, I did not feel so alone.  Most days I cannot fight it and I need help.  I am horrible about asking for help, but I did this time.  He helped.  I need that right now.  I will not need it forever, but for now, I need help.  I had forgotten what a struggle it is and how the disease is always there waiting and how once it sees a crack to get in, it does what it can to work its way in.  I will not forget that again. 
I have hope again that this fall will be good.  Maybe the weather will not be as warm as I would like and maybe I will have bouts of depression when I cannot go outside without freezing my baguettes off, but I can get through it and the routine of life will be good for me.  It is what I need right now to cope.  I will miss the beach, though, and pine away to be there.  I never really got to go into the ocean that much this year.  I cannot really go out there with the kids.  They are still too little, and the water was too rough when the hubby and I were there alone.  I will miss halter tops.  (You bet I am wearing one today since it will be 92 and those days are going away quickly.)  I will miss Water Country and the water show, of course.  I will miss long runs in the heat, believe it or not.  I will miss walking around Busch Gardens with the kids and playing games with them.  I probably will not miss the 4000 stuffed animals they insist on getting from those games.  I will miss my son's enthusiasm in riding the mini rollercoaster.  I will miss teasing my husband about running away with Dan Kelly.  I will miss riding my bike in the early am as the sun comes up, and I will miss the wonderful feeling that only comes from running as the world is waking up on a hot summer day.  I am thankful, though, to feel some peace today, peace that only comes from the hope that maybe I can cope.  Peace that comes from knowing that I can finish my marathon in Nov.  I know I can.