500 Miles

I have always had a love/hate relationship with running.  Even back in elementary school, I wanted to win the mile run every field day, but I never really looked forward to the actual running part of it. I just wanted to beat Brooks Bernard. I don't think I ever beat Brooks, but I was always the winner for the girls. The summer before 6th grade I got a Walkman and a Walkman  case as my "5th grade promotion" gift. I strapped that bad boy on, put in Appetite for Destruction and off I went. Even then, I knew I wasn't running for exercise. I didn't love the feeling of leg exhaustion, sweat in my eyes, or retracing the steps of the mile run through my now, "old" elementary school fields. I just wanted to RUN. I was always running away, even though I would end up back home every single time.

Fast forward to high school and it turned out, running was a sport! I joined the team of runners and again, it wasn't because I wanted to run. It was because I could stay after school and run away without having to leave my family. My past and current traumas were catching up to me in those high school years of mine. That is going to be my excuse for running most of my, "cross country" runs to the half way point, taking a lighter and a wet and bent smoke out of my sports bra, hot-boxing it, and continuing on back to the high school to end my run. Who does that?

I don't remember running in college. Could it have been that it wasn't safe where we lived....maybe, but I think, it had more to do with the fact that I didn't feel the need to run away then. My mom was safe and finally with the love of her life, my sister was a quick hour away in Easton, and I had the best friends living in that dilapidated house with me!

Dan got me back into running when we became a couple. He taught me how to regulate my breathing, he showed me how to keep going when I'd met my peak heart rate and thought I would die. With his coaching, I not only got that runners' high but I started to see a positive change in my physic as well. It would make me push even harder when he ran behind me and would say things like, "I see your KFC shaking!". I am laughing right now just thinking about it. We ran the trails with Gunner and sprinted up hills so steep, that it felt like mountain climbing at times. There was never a run in those years that I was, "escaping", ever. I was running toward love. I was running into a better Tiffin. I was running toward the life I didn't have much confidence I deserved.

By now, if you've followed this road, you know that Dan and I were in the process of training for our very first half marathon when he died on the treadmill. Running for me, changed again.

I still can't believe that I ran that half marathon in Nashville only 4 months after he died. I ran that race with no music. I ran that race crying the whole time. My sole purpose of running that race was to prove to myself that I was still alive. I was, and I am.

Lots of races, many half marathons later, highlights of my life, and more unimaginable tragedies, I am still running.

December has a way of reminding me that even the things we hold to be the most precious, can be taken in an instant. Of course I think about Dan, and December is also the month we had to say goodbye to Levi's twin. December is a month filled with family gatherings in which I can't see my mother's face. However, December is also the month that fill my children's faces with so much joy and magic, that my heart feels like it might explode at any moment.

This year, with the great idea of my very inspirational Jill, I have tracked my runs. And, this December, I will hit 500 miles. 500 miles of running away from temper tantrums, 500 miles of thinking about how I can be a better wife, 500 miles of praying for patience, 500 miles of praying that I don't *F-up my kids in an irreversible way, 500 miles of  realizing I can't reach every kid, 500 miles of a pat on the back for the kids I did reach, 500 miles of being thankful for second chances and new beginnings, 500 miles of, "talking out loud", 500 miles of "I shouldn't have had that doughnut", and

500 miles of running toward, NOT away. 

Yes, mortality is real and scary. Yes, December brings that forefront in my mind. But damned if I can't push that aside with each mile and be so happy for the moments that I (and all whom I love) are breathing in and out...

Always Winding

I could be a daily Blogger because I always have thoughts bouncing around about this wild and colorful  life I've had (have). However, if I have the opportunity to be in front of a computer it's to respond to a parent, buy something from Teachers Pay Teachers, or I'm pulling up ABC Mouse for my kids while one (or both) of them are hanging on a leg. Today I had a derm appointment, and am now enjoying the beautiful weather and sharing some thoughts for those that choose to follow. 

About 10 months ago, anxieties and fears never properly dealt with and one big health issue plagued our family. My last blog was about the other shoe, and it fell hard. It shook our marriage, it shook our world, and it just about capsized our boat. But it didn't. 

God (and our family and friends) carried us through last summer. As Fall rolled through, another "new life's" path lay before us. Our family walked it, hand in hand. Winter brought a newness that was prettier than the first sticking flakes. Spring blew in, and with it, those same anxieties that always weighed me down. Anxieties that I perfected at hiding. But not this time. I had new tools and a renewed faith. Not that my faith in God ever wavered, but I needed a reminder that He is in control, not I. I needed a reminder that I can't control what others do, and living in fear isn't really living. Now I try my best to live a different FEAR everyday. Face Everything And Rise. Is it working perfectly? Of course not. 

I have lost a husband, so the fact that I am kinda psycho if Nick goes radio silent on me, makes sense. I lost my mom, so when I walk into a Walgreens or CVS in May and can't stop crying, it makes sense.  I lost an unborn child and almost lost Levi, so when I panic a little over a high fever, it makes sense. Someone who has lived through the trauma that I have, will always let that sneaky little, "what if" set off a heart palpitation or two. What makes the most sense, however, is that I know I am not driving. When I can really put my hands up and say, "Lord, just show me where to go", is when I have the most peace. 

Instead of looking at the trials and tribulations of this past year or so as place of ruins,  I see the shaking of our proverbial world as a force that cracked and tore down walls that needed to go worse than Berlin's. We were blessed with a new foundation to rebuild, and the tools we needed to do it. Brick by painful and joyful brick, we have been rebuilding and repaving our (always winding) road.

Tomorrow would be mine and Dan's TEN year wedding anniversary. If someone had told me before I walked down the aisle where I would be and what I would have to endure in the next 10 years, I might have kissed him one last time and gotten on a plane to BFE, never to be seen again. 

"Celebrating" ten years at the cemetery is never in the, "plan". However, I will talk (out loud) to Dan about my life now and ALL the beauty that it holds. It might sound to some that I am not being humble when saying this, but I am really proud of myself. I've worked very hard to be my best self for me, and more so to be the best example for my children. I am not ashamed to say that I have put in MANY therapy hours to be here. And in light of learning about Kate Spade and all of those who suffer in silence, all of those who self medicate in unhealthy ways, please talk to someone. 

Finally, I am going to give my husband an enormous internet hug in saying that the work he has put in for our family these past 10 months is unsurpassed. And since sports (oh, and us) are your life, I am going to say that we are the best team out there! WE CAN'T BE BEAT...wait, ALL CAPS are for something else, right? ;-) 

Spread kindness not poison, everyone. XO