One of these days, I’ll really buckle down and actually train for my races. Like, full on follow the schedule and eat right and not stress and have a cig or two the week before the big day. I’ll follow the plan all the way through the end and not stop training the last month like I always do. This would all be true if most half marathons were’t right in the middle of the fall semester. Life, you guys.
So last year I ran my half in a total of 3:20:55. That’s a 15:20 pace. Less than ideal. I had the best running buddy who cheered me on and wouldn’t let me quit even after a dude racing dressed as a friggin’ dinosaur passed us. This year, I’m running alone. I’m half scared that I’m going to let my brain talk me into quitting halfway through and half excited to see how far I can push myself.
I stopped training altogether about a month ago. I’ve tried to get a run in here and there since then, but haven’t been able to run anything farther than a 5k due to time constraints. I stopped doing leg day because I didn’t want to risk being sore these last few days. But I have a plan. I’m going to do run/walk splits at 8/2 intervals all the way through. I think I can manage that the whole 13 miles without burning out and still make better time than last year. We’ll see how it goes. The race has a live app that lets people follow your progress and cheer you on, so I’ll be posting a link with my info because I know I’ll need all the cheers I can get.
My head’s already fucking with me and I’m thinking “it’s okay if you don’t go. you already paid anyway, so it’s not like you’d be wasting the money because it’s already done. you don’t need to do this to yourself. you can just walk all the way. enjoy the race!” But then I’m also like “nah, I have a damn 13.1 sticker on my truck. I can’t not run this. I’d be a total fake. a poser. no frickin’ way. you are doing this.” So I’m doing it. Y’all pray I don’t die, please <3.
Not back with a decluttering update just yet. My living room is chock full of all the stuff I’m getting rid of at the yard sale this Friday.
I am, however, back with a whole bunch of petty. Shit, man. Seriously, if I acted on impulse I’d have no friends right now. The more time goes by this summer, the more I realize how much of a curmudgeon I am. I think there’s about a handful of people I can tolerate on my feed right now and the rest just cause me to roll my eyes like a surly teenager. I’m sure I’m just as obnoxious on there as most people I’m friends with, but fuck.
I went to watch “Girl’s Trip” with Mona on Monday. Great movie, you should watch it; it’s hilarious & the soundtrack alone is worth it. I felt a little pang of sadness?hurt?regret? because the girls I am the closest with don’t live in Brownsville and the others just fell off the face of the earth. I miss my friends, damnit.
I walk a constant line veering between “be yourself, say what you mean, screw whoever doesn’t like it” and “try to be nice to everyone, give people the benefit of the doubt, be compassionate.” But it’s hard, y’all. There’s only so much idiocy you can take, so much two-facedness you can tolerate, and so much crap you can put up with. It’s tough. Is there middle ground between my two options? Well sure, but then I feel like I’m being fake and I have a problem with that too, but I guess it’s better than blurting out whatever comes to mind when I think someone is being a bitch or an asshole, no? Still haven’t perfected my poker face, so I guess my smirks, eye rolls, and other facial expressions will keep outing what I’m really thinking. And I wonder why I don’t have close friends…lol. But seriously.
I grew up attaching sentimental value to material things. I was the kid who never used her stickers because what would happen if I found the perfect place and occasion to use that super duper cool Lisa Frank rainbow colored cheetah sticker and I had already stupidly used it on a notebook? I mean, who put stickers on paper, right?! Stickers were meant to be saved and used only for super special occasions on super special things. So when I was a teen I had boxes full of stickers that no longer stuck because the glue had finally given up after all those years.
When I was a teen, I had this one t-shirt that was just awful. It was a white tee with a story printed on it about mice. It was on a background that had some mid-century art on a rolled-out scroll. It was weird. It made people stop and try to read the story which made me feel super awkward because it was on my chest, after all. But my grandpa bought me the shirt and so I associated it with him and donating it felt like I was being unappreciative and like I didn’t love him. I did the same thing with letters from friends and pretty much anything my mom, grandma, or grandpa ever bought me.
Needless to say, this translated into my adult life and I hung on to pretty much everything because you never knew when something would come in handy. Hence my three boxes worth of shopping bags my husband pulled out of my apartment when we moved into our house. My grandma always had a thing about keeping the good shopping bags (you know, the ones made out of thick plastic with sturdy handles), so I guess that stuck with me and I just kept accumulating bags and more bags because doing so always reminded me of my grandma.
I slowly started to learn that letting go of things didn’t erase memories, but old habits die hard. Five years in this house and you’d be hard pressed to find evidence that I was still a bit of a hoarder, but if you dug in the cabinets under the sink or the bottom of the pantry or the depths of my closet, you’d find bits and pieces of things that seem like meaningless odds and ends, but somehow remind me of something my grandma once said or something she’d keep.
As I typed this post, I realized that this is not where this post was supposed to go. I was going to tell you all about my decluttering adventures, and how freeing it’s been, but instead it became a trip down memory lane and a sort of introspection. It kind of brought up all kinds of happy feelings, so I’m just going to leave it here for a rainy day when I need a bag and can’t find one because I’ve finally let go of the habit. ❤
June is basically a month-long celebration of birthdays, graduations, and other party-worthy events. I think there’s one week where we have a family birthday every single day. Elliah’s birthday is on the 15th, then just 15 days later we have my husband’s birthday, and in between that, we have Father’s Day.
Parties! People! Family! Cake! Every extroverts dream!
But for me? The month leaves me emotionally and mentally drained. I love family. I love my people. But I need time to recharge in order to function. How does one find alone time in family home of 6? One doesn’t.
This week alone I had graduation, we celebrated Grandpa’s birthday, Tia Grace’s birthday, Tia Martha’s birthday, Elliah’s birthday, and Father’s Day.
Which is why today is almost sacred to me. The girls are at daycare, my husband is at work, Caleb is at his dad’s, and Monika is sleeping and watching movies, which gives me the silence and solitude I so desperately need to recharge and be able to function like a normal human being.
Most people don’t get that. It’s not the work that goes into throwing a party or the walking back and forth in heels keeping kids in line at graduation or teaching summer school after a hectic year that exhausts me. It’s the constant having to be present and talking and listening and being around other people that is utterly draining.
So today I rest and I relax and I sit still and in silence and recharge to deal with tomorrow. ❤
Sometimes, you just want to say “fuck decorum” and just put it all out there because it’s therapeutic. Because blasting people that need to be blasted eases my mind and soothes my soul.
But doing so would be in poor taste and would cause more harm than good and in the end would do nothing more than make me feel better for a few minutes and then I’d go back to being miserable because venting about something helps, but it doesn’t make the problem go away.
So thank goodness for sisterly bonds and LDRs and people who get it and don’t judge. All my love to you, babe.
Sometimes, you just need to focus on the good like grad school applications and having completed my education and being thankful that I have a career AND a great ass & I’m not stuck at some dead-end job with no diploma.
Sometimes, you just have to channel your frustrations and let them be your motivation to do better, try harder, go stronger. You have to take that next step that will get you where you want to be. Be it running a half marathon or finally getting a master’s degree or simply learning to let go of old demons.
Man. October? I guess I didn’t keep up with this thing after all.
The year is almost over and honestly, thank goodness for that. I’m ready to put it behind us and start fresh. A friend recently told me that 2016 was reportedly going to be bad all around, and I can say that’s pretty accurate.
I won’t recap everything because a lot happened since I last posted, but here’s a few tidbits.
Caleb turned 13. I now have two teenagers in my house. What the?!
We lost an epic woman. A woman with a beautiful soul, a contagious smile, an infectious laughter, and an incredible energy. My babies are blessed to be a part of her legacy and Elliah’s hair, smile, and laughter will forever remind me of her.
It’s sad that it sometimes takes occasions like this one to reunite family members, but I’m thankful that we got to spend so much time with our El Paso family. The kids had a blast playing with their cousins and I love seeing my husband spend time with his brothers. Distance sucks, but it makes times like this weekend that much more memorable.
We miss them already and are looking forward to our trip up there in a few weeks!
Everyone in my house is sick right now. Monika has a cough that won’t quit. Ellexa has a horrible ear infection. My husband managed to catch that too. Elliah has really bad allergies. Caleb and I see to be the only normal ones right now, but living with four sick people and not getting sick yourself is nearly impossible. I feel my ears tingly and my throat scratchy, I’ve been drinking emergen-c and taking vitamins like crazy. Drinking a ton of water. And yet.
I have my first half marathon to run on Sunday. I.cannot.get.sick. Fk. I hate this.
And then to top all this shit off, I went for a short, easy run yesterday and now my left knee hurts all the way up to my thigh. @(*&*^%&#(%$^)*@&
I’ve been eating like crap because I’m so busy all the damn time so I’m too tired to cook so takeout always seems like the easiest option, but it makes me feel so gross and sick.
I need a reset. I need a vacation. I need a getaway.