Day 58: Happy No New Years Resolution Day!

I've been thinking long and hard about the upcoming new year. Will I make a new year's resolution? I'm thinking not. Here's why:
1. I've never kept one. Ever. And I don't know many people who have. It's the most wonderful time of the year where people set unrealistic goals for themselves and become couch ridden with depression come mid February when they haven't lost 5 of those 20 pounds and their skinny jeans are still hanging in the same spot in the closet. Where they've been for 7 years.
2. There is no "new" you. There is only a better you. I hear people say "I've always felt like a skinny girl in a fat girl's body." I don't understand this notion. I've always felt like a moderately overweight girl in a moderately overweight girl's body who was out of shape, angry, and unhappy. The wrapping will always match the package.
3. I started this journey back in October so come January, I wouldn't have to fool with this crap.
What I do need is a "rededication". (No offense to the southern baptists.) During the last two weeks I haven't completely gone off the wagon, (or is it on the wagon?) I never went longer than 5 days without a run. But I've completely abandoned my program. And abandoned any resemblance of a healthy eating standard. Yes it was the holidays but still, no excuses; Which is my new motto by the by. Last night I ran for three miles. But it was a tough 3, which it should not have been, obviously. My breathing was hard, I could never find my rhythm, and oh, I PUKED. Which I'm kind of proud of but I felt like it was my body saying make up your ever loving mind: either be a healthy person and eat right and run or don't be and every time you do run it's going to suck donkey balls.
I woke up yesterday morning needing some mega motivation. I had cupcakes and beer the night before, both in less than moderation. I needed forgiveness and motivation. I was in front of the computer. I typed in inspiration for runners. I came across a website "bendoeslife.com". If you have time, then do it. This guy lost 120 pounds in one year, all from running. It was awesome. He has a blog and does web videos. (I think there's a cooler name for those but I'm still not tech savvy enough to know.) His motto is: if you want to do something, then do it. Simple I know, but isn't this really the "secret" that we're all looking for? As I was browsing/crying thru his journal, I came across another blog: jonathandoeslife. Lo and behold, this guy is from Starkville, has the same birthday as I do (not important but serendipitous things tickle me) and just ran his first marathon. Needless to say I found all the motivation I needed to clear my head of the excuses, the thoughts of failure and pessimism, and the ability to forgive myself for the pecan pies and cupcakes over the last 2 weeks and move forward.
So here we are 4 days before the new year. My goals are still in tact. My half-marathon is 9 weeks away. But my ultimate goal here is not the half-marathon. It's not to lose 20 more pounds (which...all right it is).
But it's ultimately to become the healthy, happy, "better" version of myself that I know would enjoy life so much more. The version of me that will be a better mother and wife. The version of me that doesn't open the closet door and hear the demonic voice taunting me from the corner where I keep the skinny clothes. Why don't I throw those out? They really have been there 7 years.
Quote of the Day: "Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any one thing." - Abraham Lincoln
Songs of the Day: We Drank A Toast to Innocence - Dan Fogelberg (Best New Years Song hands down) AND Life - Our Lady Peace

Day 50: The Christmas Wish according to a Slacker

Hello friends. Long time no see. Yes I'm still here. No I haven't given up the good fight. Thank you for your inquiries. I've just been slacking. And at Disney World for a week. And fighting a house full of stomach viruses. And Christmas shopping and decorating. You know, the usual good excuses. But that's what they are at the end of the day...excuses.
The day after the Jingle Bell Jog we left for our week long Christmas trip to Disney. I was on my runner's high from the race. It felt good. It felt real good. I knew I would feel better on this trip than in year's past because I had been exercising, lost a little bit of weight and had been super productive for the last month and a half. I was also looking forward to being one of those people that I've always made fun of who go on vacation and go jogging in the morning. I mean, at Disney world you're walking at least 5 miles a day thru the parks. Why jog before you start that journey? This always perplexed me. And made me laugh. But this trip, I was actually looking forward to doing that; to running in the place where my big moment in February will take place.
And guess what? I didn't do it once. The day would come and go. I would think "I walked at least 5 or 6 miles today. I've got kids who are either asleep or dirty and need to be asleep. I have no time or need for jogging." So I didn't. And while at the time those excuses seemed completely valid and reasonable, it was still an excuse. We returned home on the 14th. Today is the 20th. I've jogged twice. Twice.
Over the last 3 days I've noted out loud the list of things that had to be accomplished for the day: Christmas presents, filling cupcake orders, baths, and a run. And the run just never comes. But I always have a good excuse. But it's still an excuse. And why is it that we can always make an excuse in the face of doing something that we know will make us feel good?
I've been obsessing over this thought for the last week. I just got to watch the season finale of Biggest Loser last night at 2 in the morning as I baked blueberry muffins for work parties. Best show on TV hands down. Year after year, it's the same story, yet I never tire of it. These people, while all under different circumstances, make the same poor choice to completely let themselves go. Every time I watch the show I think "I would never allow that to happen to me." But you know what? Those people said the same thing to themselves when they realized they were 50 pounds overweight. When they were 75 pounds overweight they said "Oh it's time for a change." When they reached 100 pounds overweight, they tried again to make a better choice. But couldn't. They always had an excuse. Whether valid ones or not, they're all still just excuses. And at some point, every person on that show has been at the same point that I'm currently at: 25 pounds overweight and trying to turn over a new leaf. And quite honestly, that scares the shat out of me. Why is it, that something I know will make me feel better, look better, and effect my entire family in a positive manner, takes a back row seat to everything else? Why is it so hard to make that a priority? Why is it so hard to eat oatmeal in the morning instead of doughnuts? Why is it that I'll exert more effort squeezing into the "dress up" girdle instead of just spending an extra 20 minutes exercising? Why is it that an hour of running is at the bottom of my to do list for the day? If I knew the answer to these questions and how to overcome it, I'd be rich, svelte, and  I would hold the key to the universal weight loss problem.
I said in one of my recent posts that I was enjoying running. I knew it felt funny when I wrote it but I just thought it was because it was still new to me. But as I read blogs and magazines and facebook updates about running, I realize that I don't love it. Not like these people do that run 7-10 miles a day. But my new found friend (and kindred spirit) Beth helped me to realize that I, in fact, don't enjoy running. But I really really like how it makes me feel afterwards; how I feel after I've completed a race or a weekend long run and when I've realized that I've met a milestone or goal or improved my time. These are the things that I enjoy, not the act of running itself. I'm wondering if that will come with time or is it all about the end effect?
Either way, I know I have to do it in order to A)succeed at my goal of completing a half marathon in February, and B)to lose weight, which I need to continue to do in order to complete task A and be happy with myself.
My philosophy has always been to take everything one day at a time; whether it's running, eating right, taking care of kids, or on the road to recovery. You start each day a new, with new goals, and a new mindset and don't worry about what happened yesterday. We can only change and be responsible for the present.
So my Christmas Wish this year, other than health, happiness, and world domination err peace, is to figure out why the hell we sabotage ourselves from reaching our fitness and weight loss goals. Or is it just me that does this? And my goal today is to put the run back at the top of my daily to do list. And I'm in a wicked meditative mood today so I'm throwing some extra quotes out there to ensure my personal success today.
Here's wishing you all a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and everything in between.
P.S. Do atheists celebrate Christmas? Just wondering
Quotes of the Day:
1. One day at a time - this is enough.  Do not look back and grieve over the past, for it is gone: and do not be troubled about the future, for it has not yet come.  Live in the present, and make it so beautiful that it will be worth remembering. - Ida Scott Taylor
2. Nothing is impossible; there are ways that lead to everything, and if we had sufficient will we should always have sufficient means. It is often merely for an excuse that we say things are impossible. - Francois De La Rochefoucauld
3. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. - My mother, and I'm sure every other southern baptist christian woman
Song of the Day: Wave on Wave - by Pat green

Day 36: Here Comes the Sun

 It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood today friend and I've got nothing but good things to report. No cussing, no complaining, no referencing porn stars or gross things. It's finally cold out, non-stop Christmas music is on the radio and I leave for the happiest place on earth in 3 days. So things are good in the hood today.
I want to thank everyone for last week's overwhelming show of support in the face of my debacle that was the Thanksgiving 5k err 10k run. I also want to say a huge Thank you to the members of the Tupelo Running Club. You were very patient and extremely kind and gracious to me and I continue to have nothing but the utmost respect and highest praise for you all.
So this week I received my first Christmas present of the year. A Garmin Forerunner watch. This thing keeps up with everything; distance, pace, course, heart rate. I'm pretty sure it will tell me when I need to pee if I could only figure out which button it was. I love it! I put that big sucker on my wrist and I felt like Magnum P.I. Up until this point, I've been relying on the Cardiotrainer program on my phone to record my distances and pace. While sometimes I've questioned the validity of the information it was recording, I've never really wanted to know because if it was off, it was always off to my advantage. Remember that 11 minute mile? Well, I decided Thursday evening to workout with both the watch and the phone so I could compare the results. After my first mile, I looked at my phone: 1 mile in 10.5 minutes. The Garmin watch: .75 miles in 10 minutes. Ugh. So there's that.
I continued my workout. I started to run while I planned out in my head the juicy email that I was going to send to the Cardiotrainer people. I mean, a quarter of a mile error range is pretty freaking, I mean, pretty stinking big! Especially when I know that come race day, if I can't stay below a 15 minute mile, that Mickey Mouse golf cart is going to come and "sweep" me off the course and I will not receive my Tiara medal and I will be piiissse...........sad. I will be sad. No cussing Lisa, no cussing.
I carried on, running/walking through the night. I stopped off at my parents house for a water break. My dad asks: "So Lisa, how far are you running non-stop?" I said a mile. He says "didn't you say the same thing when I asked you that 2 weeks ago?" I said yes.
I went back out on the road. Time is 10:02 at night. I tried again. To run. To run further than a mile and not feel like I'm going to have a heart attack. It's not my legs. My legs are good. It's the breathing. I'm completely out of breath at the end of a mile. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? I began to cry. Not the ugly face cry. Just the sad, defeated cry. I began to think back to all of those articles I read by Jim Galloway. You know when you want to start something and you spend a month "researching" that thing so you'll have all the information you need to be successful and then you realize that you're really just using that as an excuse to put off that said thing you want to start and you realized you've procrastinated long enough that you don't even want to begin? I almost did that with the running. But I was thinking back to an article I read about building endurance. Jim Galloway said "If you can't hold a conversation when you're running, then you are going too fast."
My first instinct was, seriously Lisa, yeah YOU are going too fast. But then I decided to slow down. Slow way down. And you know what, I realized that this whole time, for the last six weeks, I've been  sprinting. bleeping sprinting. I am such. a. dope.
But guess what? I jogged for the next 3 miles.....without stopping. Me. Pretty face cry ensues. I could hear the Chariots of Fire music in my head. It then turned into the most awesome african-american gospel choir's version of "Oh Happy Day." I didn't get in until after 11 that night. I slept well. I had finally figured out how to run.
What made this revelation oh so sweeter was the fact that Saturday morning was the day of the Jingle bell Jog 5k. It preceded the Tupelo Christmas Parade so it was a big deal for me. I knew that there would be lots of people there on the race and parade route. My friends and family would see me and it would be the first actual race I've participated in since I began my journey as a runner. Before Thursday nights eureka moment, I was not looking forward to it. In fact, I had already begun my excuse building method. After the turkey trot fiasco, I just did not want to be embarrassed again. But now, armed with my realization that I can indeed run for a lengthy (for me) amount of time, I was excited.
Saturday morning I donned my Christmas socks and Santa Minnie hat and I jogged my first race. I jogged for 3 miles. I didn't come in last. I also didn't come in 1-50 to get my free ornament but I digress. I heard people cheer my name. My husband was there with his trusty movie camera. And my boys told everyone else there that "Momma won the race." I did indeed.
While I celebrate my mild achievement, I've also kept perspective this week. I had friends that completed the St. Jude marathon this weekend. Congratulations to all of you and thank you for being my inspiration and my heroes.
Quote of the Day: "Motivation is what gets you started. Habit is what keeps you going." - Jim Ryun who once held the world record for the fastest mile at 3:51.1
Song of the Day: Here Comes the Sun - the Beatles

Day 28: Thankful...and then some

Happy Thanksgiving to you! This week has been one full of ups and downs, stresses and reliefs, and a revisit to that high school moment of wanting to be in a club. You remember don't you? That one club you wanted to be in, but weren't sure if you "qualified" or would fit in or would be accepted. I was always under the impression that "club" meant that you had to meet a certain criteria to join. Sure there were clubs like the anchor club where you had to have a certain grade point average to get in (right? because I really don't know what it was I just know that I didn't have it). But in actuality, the definition of club itself simply states "a group of people with a common purpose."
Well Thursday morning, I wanted to be a part of a club. The Tupelo Running Club to be exact. They were meeting at 7am Thanksgiving morning for a run. A short, three mile run. I thought "hey, surely I can keep up for three miles." Plus, we decided to make this our registration date because the Princess Half is filling up quick, as compared to waiting until the run in December. So my goal for the last few weeks has been to do this run, (my first run in front of other people that I'm not in fact related to) and once I triumphed and saw how much progress I had made, that we would come home, sign up for the race, make our reservations, and bask in the glow of making another countdown to Disney calendar.
Thursday morning rolls around, we load the boys in the car and make our way downtown. As we get closer, I start noticing people running. Everywhere. From all directions. And they were running; running in sports bras, and the shorty shorts that make me nervous when I see men running in them. They were hardcore. I mean hard to the mother freaking core. And everywhere I looked, that's what I saw. Runners. Glorious hard bodied runners. And then I looked at myself in the mirror.... and my layers of clothes I had on to hide my jiggle spots. And I began to panic. And then we pulled up to the meeting spot. And then I really began to panic. Like, hard to the mother freaking core panic. Seriously, my husband has it on tape. I may or may not show it to you. I soon realized I was waaaay out of my league. This wasn't the "run 1 mile walk 1 mile" club, this wasn't the "Oh I want to lose a little bit of weight so I think I'll start jogging" club, this was THE TUPELO RUNNING CLUB biatch. These people were the people I aspired to be. But standing in the midst of them, I realized I was simply not one of them. Far from it. And I began to cry. Like, ugly face cry. I absolutely didn't want to get out of the car. Just like when I was 6 and my dad made me take swimming lessons and I sucked at it. I would scream and cry and hold on to the handle of the truck until he made me get out. I felt just like that little girl. I looked around at all the cool people and doubt not only crept in, it parked it's fat ass on my face and didn't budge. I tried to calm down and think about "what's the worst that can happen today? I can be the slowest and people will have to wait on me and I 'll be embarrassed and they'll be pissed, but it will come to an end and everyone will go home and eat their tofu turkey and I can go home to Mammie's pecan pie......LET'S DO THIS!"
I got out of the car and immediately found my shining light for the day, my dear friend Chuck. I had just read about him completing his first marathon using the Marathon Makeover program. I was so proud of him and even prouder to see him there. We had time to catch up before we started our run. I thought "ok, I can keep up with these people for three miles. Three miles I can do."
We started the run, and I hear Chuck say, "We're running the same course that we run for Gumtree."..................................................................................................
........................................................................................... The Gumtree that is a 10k
..................................................................................................................................
Cussity cuss cuss. Cuss. My shins begin to hurt. I began to feel like I smoked three packs a day and weighed 200 pounds. I looked down at my watch .75 miles. Oh. my. god. I'm about to be a quitter. That big fat quitter that starts something and doesn't finish it. That quitter that blames everything on someone else. That quitter that can't look at herself in the mirror for weeks after she quits. It's not that I can't go six miles, but I had prepped my brain and body for just getting through three with these people. There was a huge difference in my mind. I wanted so bad to call the hubby to come get me. Especially when I turned on to the mile and a half stretch of McCollough Blvd. and saw that not only was I way behind everyone else, but there were cops.........holding up traffic..............waiting for me. Are you kidding me right now? The taxpayers of Tupelo would not be happy to learn about this execution of their funds. I watched as a man in a pair of those shorty short shorts who looked like he was a founding father of the running club have a convo with one of those said policemen. The convo probably went like this:
Policeman: We really need to open up this stretch of road. She's walking on the grass, do you think she'll be alright?
Running Club shorty shorts man: Yeah, I'll wait here for her. Thanks for keeping us safe. You really should go now and attend to the important business of being a police officer.
How I imagined that convo at the time:
Policeman: WTF, I thought this was the running club. I'm just going to go and arrest her for wasting my time and yours and for just being a dumbass in general.
Running club shorty shorts man: yeah, do it.
As I watched the police officers drive pass me (and not return my wave by the by) and I saw that the shorty shorts man was waiting for me at the top of the hill, I realized that indeed, the worst case scenario was going to happen today, and there wasn't a darn thing I could do about it. It was there I decided to just go. One foot in front of another. Oh there was no running. Nooo maam. The mental block I placed on my body before I ever got out of the car that day jinxed me from any type of program I had been doing for the last 6 weeks. I was a walker. And I walked the next 5 miles. Much to the chagrin of the Running Club men.
I'll spare you the mile 2-5 details other than my hubby and my boys were waiting for me at mile four and I surprisingly fought the urge to jump in and hightail it to a safe haven. As I reached the last mile, I had stopped crying, stopped moping, and was trying desperately to regain the focus I've had for the last month. And there he was. My knight in a sweaty green tee, my friend Chuck. He had finished, and came back to find me. He walked that last mile with me. And it was one of the best miles I've walked yet. He shared his stories with me, we talked about why we wanted to run, how it felt to achieve the goals we had set out to do. And he helped me to remember how far I've come, and why I started this in the first place. Thank you so much Chuck. You'll never know how much that meant to me.
We finished that 10k Turkey trot. And the real runners of Tupelo went home to their tofu turkeys. I went home to my butterball. And we registered for that Princess Half-Marathon. We made reservations for our Disney hotel. And  I was once again happy and hopeful and focused. And while I realized I don't quite have the grade point average to be a member of the Tupelo Running Club just yet, I've come suuuuch a long way. And maybe one day, by completing my goal of running a half-marathon, I can possibly join that club and actually keep up. And maybe even run in just a sports bra! (I know that's pushing it, but here's to hoping!)
Song of the Day: So You Had A Bad Day - Daniel Powter
Quote of the Day: "If you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain." - Dolly Parton

Day 19: Stats and Other Gross Things

Disclaimer: If you're a man, you are not going to want to read this. Just skip this entry and next week I promise to reference Bill Simmons or Cam Newton. If you're a man and you have my same last name....I'm sorry, and I told you not to. If, by chance, you are a woman and would like to stay classy san diego and colorful language and taboo topics are not your cup of tea, then you might want to read The Ladies Home Journal instead and join us next week for our regular scheduled programming.
I'm actually going to talk about running today. When I started this blog November 1, I really intended to talk about training to become a runner.Yet every time I sat down to write, there were other emotions and ideas that surged out of my consciousness. But all of them were brought about by getting physically active again. It's been great. Not only does my body feel good but I feel stable emotionally and spiritually and I am once again at peace with myself and the universe. *Namaste* And while I've been experiencing a rebirth with my spiritual self, it is now time to talk about my physical journey. (Remember when I said at times, it would be ugly? That time is now.)
The good stuff:
Weight: I've lost 12 pounds! And yes I'm gonna put it out there. I started at 163. And at 151, I feel healthy, vibrant, and chinless. I can button my pants easier, I'm wearing the good day girdle again, and I've been able to say hello to my hipbones (I've missed you too!)
Time: With each long run I'm getting better. I'm now averaging 11 minutes a mile. I started at 14 so I've made extreme progress if you ask me. And my friend Sadie was right, if I can make it past mile 3 then I'm good to go...but mile 3 still sucks pie.
The bad:
Endurance: It's just not getting any easier! That time thing? It's only 11 minutes WHEN I'M SPEED WALKING. What does this even mean? That I'm so bad at running that I'm faster when I walk? Should I then just choose to speed walk? Confused....
The boob thing: Every single time that I begin to run, even if I don't want it to, my mind begins to daydream of inventing a little helicopter that could fly above me when I run and have a netting (like when you see them carrying something over the ocean); netting that could hold my boobs up for me, away from my body. And the thought of it actually makes me feel lighter for a moment and I smile. Ohhh that would be heaven. But alas, I'm brought back into reality when I feel the chafing begin to occur when my two bras are rubbing up and down on my rib cage like a washboard. I spoke of this nuisance one day to someone who is a frequent runner and they said "Oh you need bodyglide." Now, what the frickity frick? I want to run in a race not take a cheap second honeymoon at the Motel 6.......confused again.
The "other" thing:
Look, this isn't pleasant so I'm just gonna say it. Someone needs to explain to the muscles of my bladder that me running is not code for let's all go on a cigarette break. I mean, it's bad. And it's not getting better. I'm having to reroute back to my house halfway through the run just to change pants. Is this normal? Is this because I was so out of shape? Is it from having two babies? Do I need to wear depends? Do they even make depends in a middle-aged athletic woman size? Do I need to do those stupid keggle exercises? I mean, who does those without feeling like you need to go to church afterwards? And who the heck even knows how to do them anyway besides Jenna Jameson?
 I read these blogs about making sure you know where the porta pottys are on race day, and making sure you have gels....gels? For what? My feet? My mouth? My hair? And what are "throw aways"? These are the things I need answers to.
While I'm still having difficulties and beginning to stress about these details, I am thoroughly enjoying seeing what progress I have made. I finally made it to that point that people would say running is addictive; that it's exhilarating. Someone even compared it to sex, but now the way I see it, sex and running only have two things in common: I want to wear something that makes me look skinny and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna want a sandwich afterwards.
The reason I've chosen to be forthcoming about these things is because I need help. I need to know if it's going to get better, worse, or what else I need to be worried about. Take for instance when I was pregnant for the first time. I read every book available and knew that I should be worried about what I ate, what vitamins I took, and what my uterus was doing each month. Then I heard the urban myth legend. You know the one. The poop one. That a doctor goes in to deliver a baby, he takes his seat at the foot of the bed, tells her to push and BOOM! Mud pie all over his face and the delivery room. From that day forward, that's what I worried about. I was so scared of that happening that the night before I was scheduled, the rest of my family devoured a spread of mexican food while I ate a banana in hopes of cutting my chances of any delivery room mudpie slinging to a minimum. But what no one told me was as part of your admittance to the hospital, guess what, you get an enema! While that may not sound like a pleasant experience, I've never been more relieved, in more ways than one! (What, too much?)
Anyway, the point is this: women have these experiences. I feel like it's our duty as women to help other women who are struggling. When we have advice, we should give it. When we have a suggestion, we should share it. When we have stories, we should tell them. Especially if it helps them achieve or experience something that they're fearful of.
So please feel free to share with me this week. I need to know how long it took you to build endurance and better your time. I need to know what to expect on race day. And I really need to know if anyone else had trouble controlling their bladder during runs. Share it! (Or just message me) And share it proudly! We're all women! And we all pee...somewhere!
Quote of the Day: "If I have to pull on my big girl panties one more time, the elastic is going to break and then I'm really gonna have to show my ass!" - a refrigerator magnet at the flea market (also probably not in the Ladies Home Journal)
Song of the Day: Let It Be - The Beatles

Day 14: Why you wanna bring me down Boo?

Today: 6 miles in 1:18. Look, I know it's not great, but it's great for me. My first 10k I finished in 1:34. There I said it. But the point is, it's good for me. Training is going great. I've never felt so good physically, minus when I was pregnant. ( I was one of those women that pregnancy had the opposite effect on: I lost weight, my skin was flawless and I felt completely sane, go figure.) I know I've still got a long way to go but I'm following my program and this is my third week in (which should be noted that this is the longest I've followed any program...ever.) SO now that my confessions are out there for the week, let's talk. I want to start off by saying thank you to the plethora of emails and messages I've received over the last few weeks from friends, old and new, encouraging me on my journey. I can't begin to describe how much it has meant to know that people care about me reaching this goal. I've heard from friends that I haven't heard from in over a decade, and even made new ones along the way. It absolutely helps me to stay motivated, but more importantly, I feel loved.
So when I accidentally overheard some negative comments about me, at first, I took it with a grain of salt. My oh so wise mentor guru person always says "other people cannot make you FEEL anything....you control how you react to other's actions and words....you are in complete control of your emotions." Now this has by far been the hardest lesson I've had to learn. I'm still not totally convinced it's entirely doable, but oh how wonderful it would be if I could practice this philosophy. Now as I discussed before, I laid much blame on others for poor choices I made during a decade of my life that I would just as soon forget than revisit. So this theory has been a hard one for me to swallow. I had to accept blame for every choice, every action I put forth during that time. Needless to say, I'm still coming to terms with this idea. So when I was faced with how to react to this negativity, I had a hard time controlling how I felt about it. I tried not to allow my feelings to be hurt. I tried real hard. And I just couldn't do it. Have you ever actually HEARD someone say something negative about you? It sucks. It sucks Real hard. And while I wanted so badly to not allow it to affect me, I ended up laying in bed the other morning daydreaming about doughnuts and dying/cutting my hair to look like Winona's in Girl Interrupted. And no matter how hard I tried to reflect upon all that I had accomplished in the last two weeks and all the uplifting things that were said to me, I just felt defeated; by simple words that were trivial and held no meaning. It's like in the movie Pretty Woman... Edward: You are a very bright, very special woman. Vivian: The hard stuff is easier to believe. Have you ever noticed that?? This is completely true when all knowledge and reason says it shouldn't be. But it is. And here in lies the problem with my guru's theory. No matter how hard you try, sometimes you can't control how you feel.
Fast Forward to ESPN's 30 on 30 series with Kyle Maynard. Kyle Maynard is an accomplished high school wrestler with dreams of becoming an MMA fighter. Oh, AND HE WAS BORN WITH NO ARMS AND LEGS BELOW THE ELBOWS OR KNEES! Now this man's aspirations alone are worthy of a Hollywood movie and book deal. But this guy is seriously trying to enter a sport that requires full on contact with all four of your limbs AND requires you to be in as good a shape as some Olympic athletes. Now this guy has not only faced adversity physically, but it took him a few years before he could even convince anyone to let him fight. Everywhere he turned, people told him to his face that what he was doing was impossible and even ridiculous. He was laughed at, mocked, and told repeatedly, "YOU CAN'T DO THIS". But you know what...the guy was in better shape than Usain Bolt in Beijing and he fought that first MMA fight that resulted in a decision. He triumphed...greatly, to say the very least. Now....let that soak in a minute......do you think HE has to have an internal conversation with himself when he hears someone say something bad about him????? I'm ridiculous.

Send some good juju to your friends, family, and strangers this week. And think twice before you say something bad about someone.

Quote of the Day: "The turning point in the process of growing up is when you discover the core of strength within you that survives all hurt." - Max Lerner
Song of the Day: Carry on Wayward Son - Kansas

Day10: The Disney Effect

Why the Princess Half-Marathon at Disney you say? Because I wouldn't have tried it otherwise. Anyone that knows me knows that we are Disney fanatics. We go at least twice a year every year, and have so since I could remember. I've lived there four different times. My brother, sister and I did college program internships there. It's the only place we've ever vacationed. I've never seen the grand canyon, D.C. or Mexico, but by golley I can show you where every bathroom is on Disney property. Now people ask me all the time, "why Disney? Do you not tire of it? Does it not get boring?" And here's where people miss the point. I could go to Disneyworld and not ride a single ride and be happy. We don't go there for the attractions. We definitely don't go because it's a cheap vacation. We go there because that's where mostly all of my family's memories have been created. If someone put together a video diary of my life, 90% of the pictures and video would be from Disney and the Beatles "In My Life" would be playing in the background. We celebrate everything there; birthdays, honeymoons, anniversaries; anything worth commemorating we go there to celebrate it. My son Jack went for the first time when he was a month and a half. I'm pretty sure he has been 10 times in his four short years on this earth. But more importantly, it's been our therapy. We also go there to recover. With any tragedy, big or small in our family, we went to Disneyworld. It was kind of our unspoken way of talking through our grief. My brother Chris, lost his wife three years ago to cancer. As soon as he was ready, we were at Disneyworld. Last May, before my Jack was diagnosed with autism, he received a (mis)diagnosis of a degenerative disorder that would cut his life short. My parents took us to Disneyworld that next week. My brother's son Cole was also diagnosed with cancer a year after he lost his mom. We couldn't go to Disneyworld for a year during his treatment. But everyday Cole knew as soon as he got that last treatment, he would be on a Disney cruise. He had a countdown poster in the kitchen, like we do with every trip. He would tell the nurses,"I've got three more months of chemo then we get to go to Disneyworld!" We had never been so excited for a trip, because we knew then Cole would hopefully be through with treatment. It would signal a new beginning for him, his dad, and for all of us.
Whether it was something positive or negative that brought us there, we always knew we would be leaving with a sense of renewal. It just made us happy. It's like Christmas everyday at Disneyworld. Everyone is on their best behavior and everyone is a little nicer to each other and on top of everything else, you get to have dinner with Mickey and watch fireworks every night. How could you not love that?
So when I first started this journey, I knew that the only place I could accomplish such a fete for myself was if I could do it at Disneyworld. They have characters at each of the drink stops, they have Disney marching bands along the course to keep you motivated and entertained. But most importantly, at every corner I'll be reminded of a memory that was made at some point in my life. Ones that include friends from my past and present, my family during good times as well as the bad ones, and times that I spent by myself when I lived there, trying to "find myself " and figure out what the heck I was doing with my life. I absolutely couldn't think of a better environment than Disney to challenge myself to do something great.
P.S. Our countdown calender on the wall is currently at 24 days.
Quote of the Day: "Around here...we don't look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things...and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths."-Walt Disney
Song of the Day: (Get ready for it, it's as corny and as beautiful as it gets but so appropriate) "You'll Be In My Heart"- Disney's Tarzan

Day 8: Celebrate the Small Stuff

This is Day 8 of our half-marathon challenge. Last week I logged about 15 hours of walking/ jogging/ panting/ slowing down hoping someone I knew was driving thru the neighborhood and could pick me up time. The farthest I went at any given time was 3 miles. Now you're probably saying "Lisa, you're training for over 13 miles and you can't go further than that?" And I would say, "mind you're own @@#*?? business!" And then I would say "IT'S 3 MILES IN ONE DAY!!!!!" That's good stuff for me! Everyday I walked or jogged somewhere when I didn't have to is an accomplishment worthy of a party. That's one of the upsides to having a child with autism. All expectations go out the door and even the smallest of goals met is worthy of a party.

Last night Jack had his first haircut... His first in four years! Now granted his hair doesn't grow that much and is thin, but we're definitely one of those pairs that when we walk through the grocery store we get the "does she even brush his hair?" looks. And that's because haircuts for an autistic child are one of those things that fall into the category of "may or may not happen because it is not worth the trauma that it causes" category. Along with clipping nails, the dentists, the potty, restaurants, family portraits, bicycles, etc. Now we're super blessed in that Jack is alot more tolerable of these things than many other kids I know with the same problems. He's making tremendous strides in his progress. But a haircut and potty training are the last two big things left for us to accomplish. The only way he got a hair trimming in the past was when he was asleep and that was at the hands of his mother. So the poor fella was usually walking around looking like he had the mange. So last night, his best friend and cousin Cole got a haircut from Mammie. We made Jack watch. And then we braced ourselves for a meltdown when we told him it was his turn. He started out terrified, and then wouldn't you know it, that boy sat there for a haircut. And then you had a room full of grown people doing the "2, 4, 6, 8" cheer and acting like he had just won the lottery, for them. It was great. We cried, took pictures, and I was so excited I just told mom to cut it as short as possible while we had him there, so my little man looks like he's going into the army.

But last night, there was reason to celebrate...celebrate big. If  I would have known it was going to occur, I would have baked a cake and hung streamers. But that is a gift that comes along with having a special needs child. On a daily basis, we are moved to tears by pride in something that Jack has learned to do. He has just now begun to interact with other kids on the playground. For the last 2 years, going to the playground was a chore, one that neither of us looked forward to. And now, it's one of our favorite things to do. He actually seeks out other children to play with and that is something I never thought he would do. The first time he chased someone, I jumped for joy and scooped him up crying saying "I'm SO proud of you for chasing that little boy!!!" Talk about getting some looks...but I could have cared less that day. And everyday since, he does something worthy of the celebratory cheer and dance. Whether it's following a two-step command or saying good morning to his brother, everything he does in this house is a big deal. And it brings me much joy to celebrate the small stuff. I wish everyone was forced to do that.
So we try to apply this philosophy to everything in our lives. Do away with all expectation. If we don't succeed at something or if we don't expect anything of others, then we're not that disappointed if it doesn't happen or if they let us down. But when we do succeed, or when someone does something praise worthy, it is indeed praised and a party ensues. It makes everything so much sweeter.
My only objective is to walk and or run every day. So when I've traveled 3 miles in a day, I've met and exceeded my goal by 2.99 miles. And when I get home, I celebrate with streamers and cake. (I'm just kidding about the streamers part)
Quote of the Day: "The more you praise and celebrate your life, the more there is in life to celebrate."- Oprah
Song of the Day: Overjoyed- Stevie Wonder

Day 3: Change your thoughts, Change your life

Tao Te Ching: Cultivate Virtue in your self, And Virtue will be real.

My husband is a firm believer in the power of positive thinking. Before he graced my life with his presence, I had never met anyone who held or practiced this philosophy. Example #1: When we first met, there were certain events in my life that had caused me grief, just like everyone else. I could trace my mistakes back to particular decisions, back to certain people that I allowed to have a certain degree of control in my life and they misused it. Others had led me astray. Others had led me into the valley of the shadow of wrong decisions. I had a few people that I laid much blame on for my current state of affairs, which at the time wasn't good. When I began to voice my displeasure of these certain people, he became perplexed. He told me to focus on understanding myself instead of blaming others. Really? You're saying it's my problem? Yeah. That's what he was saying. Jonathan: "Don't let other people rent space in your head for free."

It took me at least four or five days to figure out what the hell he was talking about. It took me a few more days to figure out he was right.

Example #2: Whenever I want to complain, or say something negative about someone, he allows me to do so, but only if I follow up with saying something nice, or positive. For the first year of our marriage, I hated it. I felt like Thumper in Bambie when his mother says "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all." Over the next few years of our marriage, I began to embrace his idea of attempting to be more positive. And soon enough, my complaining was kept at a bare minimum, and oddly enough, I began to think twice before I made negative comments.

The moral of the story is this: you can change the way you think; about yourself and other people. You just have to train your mind to do so.

Example #3: Jon loves lists. Sometimes he uses them to be more productive at work or more proficient at home, other times he just does it for the fun of it. It's one of those quirky endearing qualities that he has that I'll surprisingly miss if God forbid he is taken from me. ALL of his lists are goals, disguised as ideas, errands, or simple daily tasks. Over the past year, Jon would often make lists of dreams we had for ourselves. Sometimes they would be lists of personal businesses we would own if given the opportunity or time. Mine would always result in an idea for a cupcake shop. I LOVE cupcakes. It is and forever will be my one weakness. But I never took the thought seriously. I just felt like there was no time, no opportunity, and quite frankly, that I would be motivated enough to do it. Fast forward a year from that first list he made and wouldn't you know it, I run a cupcake business. Now I'm not buying a Ferrari anytime soon, but I earn enough to cover my wal-mart trips each week and I provide a service to a few people that I can be really proud of.
And what I've now come to the realization of is this: my husband didn't want me to get a job, he wanted me to get a life. One that existed outside of him and our boys because he knew it would give me an identity. And along with that would come pride, self-worth, and an opportunity to be a productive member of the community.
All of this is a product of Jon's ability to help me change the way I think about myself. But it's tough. There are still mornings that I have to stand in front of the mirror and pull a Stuart Smalley. "I'm smart, I'm good looking, and gosh darnit, people like me." You'll laugh and you'll feel silly, but I promise you you'll believe that for a portion of the day. And as long as that feeling lasts, you'll be happy and more productive than you would have been otherwise. Reprogramming the way you think can take a little bit of time but will soon become habit and a natural way of being.
So whatever your goal may be, you must know in your mind that you can do it, or you won't. And you tell yourself that you can, until it becomes your own personal truth.

Quote of the Day: "Cultivate virtue in yourself, and virtue will be real."- Tao
Song of the Day: Dancing Nancies- Dave Matthews

Day 2- Born to Run

Hello friend. So we've made it. 2 days of blogging, 3 days of running. Every day I succeed at those two things will be cause for celebration.
So do you remember that show "The Swan?" They found the homeliest of women and a team of plastic surgeons remade every inch of the poor woman's body until she came out, not looking so much like a swan but more like a completely fabricated barbie doll with no resemblance of her former self. What I found so fascinating and profound on that show is when they did the follow ups. Because they never gave them an emotional makeover, their physical makeover, while still apparent, had not been maintained. They didn't provide these women a gym membership to upkeep their newly stapled tummy or gift certificates to the hair dressor to maintain their 500 dollar haircut and color. They didn't give them any new clothes minus the pageant gown for the televised premier. They just let let them go back home. And these women, like the viewers, quickly realized that the change that was supposed to change their lives had only changed a few physical attributes. But on the inside, they were still the same. Now when I watched this show it was pre-baby, pre-breastfeeding days when I still shopped at Victorias Secret, spent 100 bucks to get my hair done every 6-8 weeks and showered every day. I used to think "how do these women let themselves go like that...their poor husbands!" Fast forward to the present and guess what....I'm now hoping for the renewal of that show and that the FOX producers are going to have an open casting call at the Mall at Barnes Crossing and I'm gonna camp out for 3 days in the hopes of becoming "Tupelo Barbie." Now that I'm more "mature" in my outlook on women in their thirties and motherhood, I've come to realize two things: 1)women don't just let themselves go. We don't choose to become overweight and wear maternity clothes on our child's second birthday. We don't purposefully wear 6 inches of black roots on the top of our heads in hopes of bringing the Sarah Jessica Parker look to fashion in Tupelo. What happens is, we become responsible for other beings in the world and all of a sudden making sure those other beings thrive, stay clean, eat, sleep and get educated kind of takes precedence over whether or not my nails are manicured. And before you know it, I'm looking in the mirror trying to remember when my last shower was and trying to come up with a new snazzier way to wear a ponytail. The second thing I've realized is this: WE NEED HELP. Single moms, I don't know how you do it. You deserve your own blog as well as free passes to the spa, the mall and to Wal-Mart. The majority of those "Swan" women didn't have a support system at home. I myself, am the luckiest girl in the world. I have the strongest support system in the free world and I still struggle. But I know you can't do it alone. You need help from some source, whether it's emotionally, physically, or financially, it's damn near impossible to go it alone. Let's all (both of you) stop and think of our family, friends and loved ones who shape our lives. If you have someone who motivates you, who encourages you, then make them your constant companion. Let them know how you rely on their help. Let them know how much their encouragement affects your daily life. And if you don't, then find one. For years my dad said, "You can't soar like an eagle when you're hanging with turkeys." And guess what, he was right....again....damnit. And for so many years, I didn't soar. I didn't even get my arse off the ground. It was Thanksgiving for me for about 8 years of my life. I didn't accomplish anything except debt and scenery. But the minute I made wiser decisions about who I surrounded myself with, I myself started to make better decisions. While I know it's easier said than done, it can be done. Life is too short to be around people who bring you down. It really can make all the difference. Thank you Jon. Thank you Sarah and Chris, Francis, Kelly, Allana and Garyon, and Emily. I'm a better person because I know you.

Quote of the Day: The reason most people never reach their goals is that they don't define them, or ever seriously consider them as believable or achievable. Winners can tell you where they are going, what they plan to do along the way, and WHO WILL BE SHARING THE ADVENTURE WITH THEM.-Dennis Watley
Song of the Day: Halo- Beyonce

Eleanor Roosevelt: "You must do the thing you think you cannot do."

The mission set forth should I choose to accept it: Participate in the Walt Disney World Princess Half-Marathon, February 27, 2011.
About me: I'm a stay at home mom to George who just turned one and to Jack who is four. Jack is autistic and just said his first words 2 months ago. I'm married to my own Prince Charming, Jonathan, whom without I would accomplish nothing. Jon has always seen only the best in me and has the gift of bringing it out of me like no one else on earth ever has. He motivates me to be the best version of me possible and everyday, because of him, I'm happy, thankful, and inspired to make the most out of each and every day we are given.

For the last two and a half years the focus of the family has been on Jack; on his diagnosis, his treatment, and our reinvention of what our family life was going to be. Our journey over this time has definitely been a struggle, but one that has resulted in a very honest, loving, sensitive home and a family that thrives on unconditional love and one that I wouldn't change a thing about.

What it's also resulted in is a mother who has done nothing over the last four years that didn't involve childbirth, therapy or poopy diapers. While my greatest accomplishment in life will always be my role as a wife and mother, the time has come that I put on my big girl panties and venture into society again.

First point of interest: my self awareness and self confidence. Apparently, these things are pretty important if you want to be a functioning member of society. And if you don't work at it, guess what, they go on hiatus. Here's where my real honesty begins. I don't like going out in public. It's been so long since I've been social with adults because I feel awkward, self conscious, and quite frankly, have nothing to talk about besides my kids. And guess what? No one really wants to hear about it. No one cares that the Roots were on Yo Gabba Gabba, or that I could carry on a legitimate Spanish conversation thanks to the numerous hours of Dora and Diego that I've logged. Yet these are the topics of conversations that I offer to other adults who have the pleasure of my company. Yeah...I know.
Second topic of interest: my self image. And to be fair, it's not all mental. My issues fully originate from an actual number I see on the scale and an actual number I see in the back of my pants. These aren't issues that need to be worked out with Dr. Phil, they need to be worked out with Bob and Jillian, or the P90X nazis.
I'm realistic about my goals. I'm never going to be a size 2. I'm never going to be approached to be the next Athleta catalog model. But the time has come that I do want to feel good about how I look. I want to feel good about going in public and being social. I want to be able to say I've done something to increase the value and quality of my life, and something that I could be proud of because I wanted to do it and not because I had to do it.Which leads us to the mission at hand. I, along with my loving and beautiful sister Sarah, have decided to enter the Princess Half Marathon at Walt Disney World in February, 2011. The reasons are two-fold: To lose weight and get in shape, and to accomplish something for ourselves that is so out of character for us that even our dad laughed at the thought. And he had every reason to. Reason #1: I am not a runner. Let me repeat, NOT a runner. I've been in one race in my life, a 10k. Yes I pushed a double stroller, but I came in next to last. And I'm pretty sure the "last" was a 70 year old woman celebrating her recovery from breast cancer. But proud I was. I cried. I finished. But I thought for sure that the ambulance was going to have to cart me off during that last mile. It was not easy for me. But I did it. And in my mind, I triumphed. Reason #2: I don't have many of those triumphs to report. Like I said, my greatest accomplishments are being a wife and mother. But past that, my list is short.
So here's the plan. To train to become a runner. On December the 4th, there is a local 10k. That's my first goal. If I succeed, then we make our reservations for Disney on that day. I will keep this blog as a journal. I promise to be as brutally honest as possible. (that's more of an apology beforehand to the two of you that will be reading this) I won't sugarcoat or exaggerate anything that happens, or does not happen for that matter. But I also won't edit myself for that very reason. There will be many a reference to the boob problem I have, (I'll have to wear 2 sports bras if I want to do anything that resembles running or I run the risk of black eyes and or lift off from the propeller action that happens under my shirt without them.) There will also be references to the emotional turbulence that working out causes in my persona; sometimes it's pretty, other times there is cussing involved. It will be traumatic, inspiring and beautiful and ugly, but will happen nonetheless. So here we go...on this journey together. See you tomorrow.