The Castle

Two years ago today, I was depressed, unhappy, miserable, not as efficient as I should be at work, a financial mess, lonely, 20 pounds heavier, and unfilfilled in just about all of my life's desires.

Although I no longer recognize that person, I remember that person. Most of all, I remember how I became that person.

The truth is, the main reason of my unhappiness (with some contributing factors), was that I chose to live my life with a bad person.

I made that decision. Today I can fully accept that decision, and the faulty reasoning that went with it. I had good intentions in making the decision, and with sticking with it for so long, but in all my good intentions, I forgot to look out for number one (me).

In making the decision in who you choose to accept in your life, you are looking out for yourself. You are protecting yourself and your life. You are loving yourself, something I've only recently learned how to fully do.

By letting good people into your life, you transform your own destiny. Today, I've drastically changed who I let into my life. I've found it's amazing what you can change in just two years with a couple of big decisions.

With good people in your life, you find that you don't have to worry about whether they truly care about you. They will fight for you. They will be there for you. They won't talk bad behind your back. They won't throw you under the bus. They won't lie, cheat, deceive, or hurt you, physically or emotionally. They won't make selfish decisions with no regard for you. You don't have to lose sleep at night, or double-check their whereabouts.

You don't have to worry they will lose another job and put your house into foreclosure by sleeping all day instead of looking for a new job, punching a family member while incredibly drunk, or crashing into a car with no insurance and no license, putting you into thousands of dollars of insurance debt (obviously NOT random examples).

Today, all of that is in the past. I am happy, fulfilled, joyful, grateful, in love, successful at work, financially secure, fit and healthy, and surrounded by friends and people who truly care about me. I have an amazing husband who has accepted my past and helped me to climb out of all the mess that was my life.

God is so good! It's taken me a lot of money, lawyers and time, but I am finally away from the bad influence of the past. I'm so grateful for the wisdom God gave me the past two years.

I will never go back to who I was then, and I have put plenty of safeguards in place to ensure that, the main safeguard of being careful who I accept into my life, and of carefully controlling my reactions to others' actions.

It can be harder than you think. Especially when you are one of those people that cares about ALL other people, regardless of who they are and what they've done. You have to make a logical (not emotional) conscious fact-check in your head. You have to constantly re-evaluate your choices in your acquaintances. You have to be careful.

Or, as my former therapist said: "Help your students. Help people at work. You shouldn't have to help your husband. He should help you. He should be someone you can look up to and respect, not someone that needs your help."

Think about your life as a castle with a moat that surrounds it. An impenetrable stone wall blocks invaders - a wall that only you can open and let people in.

You must protect the castle of your life.

Who will you let in your life, and who will you block?

Who is in your life right now that may be causing you problems - whether intentional or unintentional?

Did you ever think that maybe if you open the gate and let someone in that you've misjudged, that they can become a poison to your entire community, slowly morphing your surroundings until it's a scary place you no longer recognized?

I don't mean just significant others, either.

Friends can do this. Family can do this. Those most unassuming individuals who look like a pretty package outside can actually be very ugly and rotten inside.

Those people who keep coming back, even after you've evicted them. Because you let them.

See, if your life falls to ruins, you can't entirely blame another individual. You are an individual. You have choice about how you live your life, regardless of how others treat you. You have decisions. You have the ability to change and grow, regardless of others' influences.

In fact, there are signs that you can watch for, if you think your problems may be from another individual's influence. I wish someone had shown me these signs and made me evaluate my former ugly person. Maybe I'd changed things if I'd known what a huge mistake I was making.

Or maybe not. Maybe I needed to hit rock bottom to see clearly.

All I know is that now I know this: It's okay to judge people. It's okay to deny people. You can love them at a distance. You can have empathy for them. You can forgive them.

Just don't let them into your castle.

You have to take accountability for the role you played in who you let into your life. That was hard for me, because I had good intentions. But look where they got me.

I know now that I control my life. I control who is in it as well.  Learning to take control of my life and taking a poisonous person out of my life had huge positive implications in nearly every aspect of my life.

I'll never forget going to a new church not long after I'd started dating my now husband, and the sermon focusing on the "people you partner your life with." There was a list similar to the one below, and I remember looking at him from the side of my eye and thinking, "He is none of these horrible things. I've done it. I've found someone who will make my life better, not worse. I've found someone I can respect and trust."

And I married him.

Below, here are some traits that you need to watch out for. Of course, everyone makes mistakes. Repetition of these things is what is dangerous.

Evaluate the people in your life. Fire them if necessary. Just don't let them poison the community. It's never to late to kick them out.

Liars (not little white lies, repeated lies about important things)
Deception (hiding who they are, their actions, living two lives, etc.)
Abusers (physical and emotional)
Drug users
Felons
Angry people who act out in their anger
People who don't care about their personal growth
People who don't care about other people or their families
People you don't respect
People who don't make good decisions in general (financial, moral, impulsive, etc.)

Happy Birthday to Me :)

Today is my birthday, in case you didn't figure that out from the title. I was going through some old journals at work, and I found a hastily scribbled poem that I wrote last summer, I think sometime in June. Anyway, I really like it, and thought it would be fitting to post here on my birthday.

Today

Just for today
I'll climb that mountain
and come down the other side
I'll leave behind that part of me that almost died

Today I'll keep going
at that steady pace
without fearing the tiger at my back
It's no longer a race

I won't run to you
or away
I won't hope secretly
that you'll ask me to stay

I'll hold myself
with my own two arms
I'll tilt my head towards God
when my heart sounds it's intruder alarm

For today,
you'll see the girl I once was,
a thousand years before
I swear, today, you'll be able to see so much more

Summer of Firsts Part III - My first triathlon

I want to start off saying I really can’t describe myself as "athletic."

Yes - as an adult - I’m fit and active, and I usually work out 5/6 days out of the week, but as a youngster not so much.

I was more what you might call “artistic.” I spent my days reading and writing poetry. I gotta give it to my parents, because they sure tried. I signed up for soccer, summer swimming, basketball, and gymnastics …  hated them all with a passion, and quit them after a year, which was the minimum commitment my parents made me endure. I enjoyed biking and rode my bike everywhere as a kid, but it was leisurely - definitely not racing.


Softball was the only competitive sport I played consistently, and although I did get pretty good at it, I stopped playing after eighth grade, and based on a recent trip to the batting cages (15 years later), the magic is definitely gone.


So, to decide to do a triathlon at 30 years old was actually a big feat for me to embark upon. I'm a little more motivated as an adult. I had to learn how to properly swim, be able to run more than a mile (which really didn’t happen until about six months ago – I got up to 3 miles right before the Sunburst Races) and bike competitively for almost seven miles.

Then, I had to be able to put all of those things together and not die while doing it.


I spent about a year training just to be comfortable with it and know that I could do it. I had heard the Eagle Lake Short Sprint Triathlon on August 6th was good for beginners and smaller since it was only the 2nd annual, so I decided to do that one first to help prepare me for the Niles Super Sprint Triathlon, which Kyle and I will do together in September.


I started the day optimistic. I wasn’t nervous, just energized. We showed up way early so that I could get my station set up without feeling rushed. I also had to pick up my electronic chip, and wait in line to get the numbers written on my body. There was quite a bit of time where, as I wistfully watched the first few waves push off, I was just standing there with my swim cap on, itching to get in the water and GO.


I was doing the short sprint (200 meter swim, 6.9 mile bike and 1.4 mile run – this is a small triathlon) and the long-sprinters had to go first, so that accounts for the waiting. But that morning I thought I would be incredibly nervous, and I just wasn’t. I had prepared so much that I knew it was game time. I was ready. Mentally and physically, I felt great, and eager to get my first triathlon under my belt. I wasn’t expecting to beat anyone or make any kind of crazy time, but just feeling excited to finally do it.


Despite my eagerness (is that a word?) I made one big mistake right in the beginning that put me behind: I underestimated my swimming potential.


I had spent lunch hours at the Notre Dame Rolfs pool (which was roped lengthwise at 50 meters, or twice the length of a normal pool) doing laps over and over, in addition to swimming on the weekends at Kyle’s gym. I had made huge strides in my swimming and I was completely ready for that 200 meter swim. Yet, after hearing horror stories from others of getting pushed in the water or kicked in the face, my low swimming confidence got the best of me. I had never swum in close proximity with so many people – I don’t even like sharing my lane at the gym pool! So because of this fear, I decided to count to about 8, waiting for everyone in my wave to go first before I jumped in after them.


Big mistake.


Apparently, there were people doing the triathlon that had not prepared much for the swim. People in front of me were on their backs paddling while I was stuck behind them, not at all able to use my hard-won swimming skills. I spent so much time wading there with my head up, looking for a place that I could squeeze in and get past them, but there was none. Every time I stroked twice, I had to stop and wait for the people in front of me for a few seconds so I didn’t run into their kicking feet. Once, I tried to do a quick maneuver right to go around a lady and someone from a boat yelled at me to get back inside the buoy. (I was hardly outside it, just along the line for a second).


 Here I was, stuck behind this line of slower swimmers, and there was no way out. I watched so many people get out of the water running ahead of me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Finally, right towards the end, after I had already rounded and come back towards the beach, I was able to get around someone as the line spread out more. The swim was almost finished and I was really not even tired yet! So I got around her, and what do you know, the swim is over. I must have got maybe six or seven good consecutive strokes in during the entire swim.


I am really not a competitive person, but I had earned at least a chance at that swim. I was so incredibly pissed at myself! Here I had worked so hard all year to prepare and I couldn’t even swim. I was so much faster than the people I was stuck behind. I limited myself with my mind and I set myself up for failure. I’ll never do that again. I will start at the front - at least that way I’ve given myself a chance.


The bike was a different story. It surprised me with its level of difficulty. I expected that to be the easy-breezy part of the race. What I didn’t expect were the hills. They weren’t huge hills, but anyone who rides knows that even slight (but long) hills can seriously put a damper on your endurance. I was pushing it and passing all kinds of people, but still my legs were burning and I was short of breath. I had done 7 -13 miles with Kyle before, and we had pushed it a little, but it was more leisurely, and it usually wasn’t directly after a swim. Our rides and my time on the spin bikes at the gym really didn’t prepare me for the bike portion. Those 6.9 miles felt much longer than they were! I rounded so many cornfields and corners where I was like “Really? This isn’t done yet?” I was so glad to finally get off my bike when I got back to the transition station.


I really was excited for the run – 1.4 miles is like half of what I normally run, and it was the final leg (no pun intended) of the race. I thought it would be no problem and that my breath would settle down a little by the time I started running.


It didn’t.


This was probably because of the excess physical activity all at once. Normally my exercise-induced asthma doesn’t kick in for anything except running. This time, however, I was gasping for air by the end of the bike, so by the time I got to the run I was already out of breath, which threw me for a loop. I puffed my inhaler and took off anyway, only to find after a block I had to stop and walk for a minute to get my breathing regular. I still didn’t feel like I was breathing well enough, but counted to ten and vowed to run the rest of the way at 10.


 And I did.


Something kicked in, and even though my lungs hurt like crazy, I just kept going at a steady pace, passing quite a few people walking or running/walking.


When I saw that finish line, I kicked it in and ran as fast as I could. The announcer said on the microphone “Here comes number 264 … And she’s happy!” I was smiling big for Kyle’s camera when I hit the finish line. People were clapping and giving me high-fives. I came in at about 51 minutes, which was actually better than I expected. The third-place female in my age group did it in 42 minutes. I had estimated that I’d finish in an hour or more. So I exceeded my expectations, and with the below changes, I know I’ll do even better in my second triathlon, which I’m doing in about three weeks. I know exactly what I need to do now that I’ve been through it.


A few things I will change:


1. Quit being such a girl in the transition. You don’t need to take Advil, wash your feet, and fix your ponytail. Run in, bike out …. Look crazy, whatever. Oh, and don’t be in so much of a hurry that you put your helmet on backwards and have to stop and fix it, eating up like two minutes. Oops.


2. Swim in the front of the pack. They are short-sprinters as well and many of them first-timers. Your swimming ability is better than many of them – just watch where people are kicking.


3. Train for the bike better. Do several 10-mile jaunts with some hills where you really push it. Then 7 miles will feel easy.


4. Do more bike-->runs (outdoors, on a real bike). In my training I had done a few swim-->bikes and one swim-->bike-->Run, but not enough practice with bike-->runs. I need to figure out how to regulate my breathing for the long haul, and it may just be an endurance/practice issue.


5. To prepare for Eagle Lake, I ran through all the triathlon distances once at the gym. I did it in 45 minutes – which just goes to show how unlike real running and biking is compared to gym biking and treadmill running. The week before Niles, I will run through all the triathlon distances outdoors, so it’s more like the real thing.


And a tip for others if you are considering your first triathlon: Anyone can do this.


There were 14-year old kids doing the short sprint with their parents! Triathlon people are this amazing group of great people who come together to do something fun and healthy for a good cause. They will welcome you. I know I complained about slow swimmers, but it wasn’t their fault. It was my mistake for waiting and underestimating myself. I passed one swimmer that was on her back and panting and she still found time to say “good job” to me as I passed her. I thought it was weird, until it happened again … Another struggling biker that I passed said “great job, keep it up.”


I am going to pass on that warmth and say those kind words to others next time. This is an amazing group of people, and I was so glad to be part of that group. Plus, triathlons give you a reason for your workouts. Working out with no end goal in mind gets really boring. Having something to work towards makes it all worth it!


Kyle is already trying to get me to do the regular-length triathlon. It’s not going to happen next year, but it’s definitely in my future!

 

The death of graciousness

Lately I've been annoyed at the ungrateful behavior of some people around me, and I've noticed a common thread: the general decline of the niceties of cheerful, polite behavior - especially at work.

People don't say thank you anymore. Some have even taken thank you completely out of their vocabulary - or never put it in the first place.

For example, a reporter came into my community relations class last week for a Q and A, talking about how she has a colleague that hates it when people thank him for his stories.

Whaaaat? You mean you write a good piece of work, get it published, impress those involved, and you find it rude when those people thank you?

Well excuse me, but I'm sure they are just being polite. If you helped them gain publicity for something while at the same time writing a great story that people needed to know about, it is a win-win. You have helped them whether or not that was your intention. If you think that them saying "thank you" means you've done them a favor, then you are looking into this polite phrase way too much in depth. It is not rude to say thank you, and to take it personally in that way is narcissistic, at the least.

I used to be a newspaper reporter, and all the negative comments from the public got under my skin after a while. If I got a "thank you" or other positive comment from the public, I held onto it like a life-line, a rare golden nugget discovered buried in the treacherous fields of journalism. It was something that kept me going for weeks.

Did your parents teach you to say please and thank you?

Mine did. Yet my students, not so much. We have something called the "Four D's: Dreams, Decency, Dignity, and Diligence." We have to teach our students the meanings of these words in their lives because usually no one has. This year I did dignity, and I talked a lot about common niceties such as saying thank you when someone holds a door open for you or goes out of their way for you in some way.

Yes, we had to teach them that. It's a sad world we live in.

Yesterday, I was talking to a colleague that I had never met who had been assigned to coordinate a current events/government seminar with me for students at a university. After some lengthy rambling, he did put forth a couple of good ideas and agreed to do the power point for the beginning of the session. Since he was a government teacher and had more knowledge than I do on the basics of government, this took a lot of pressure off of me. All I had to do was coordinate the roundtable discussions following the power point.

So, before getting off the phone with him, I said "Thanks for your help, I appreciate it."

To which he replied, "Well, I didn't do anything, but ok."

Huh???

Well I respectfully disagree. Yes, you did do something: You director assigned you to help coordinate an event you knew nothing about with a person from a different city that you had never met. You spent time working with her and coming up with ideas and then agreed to put in the work for a large part of the presentation.

Yes, you did something. And yes, you deserved to be thanked.

And if you can't accept being thanked than keep it to yourself. You are not my subordinate and I do not have the power to boss you around, therefore you are acting upon your own will to make this task much easier on me, whether you intended to or not.

And frankly, I find it most ungracious that you refuse to accept my thanks and I will remember that every time I see you.

You want to know what I think? I think people who don't say thank you, are unappreciative and ungrateful. I think they have issues. Not saying thank you is very close to being entitled. And entitlement is an even nastier thing.

So I'm going to say thank you to people whether they like it or not.


I think people who can't accept thank you from others have some sort of superiority complex.

Do you know someone who never says thank you?

Have you ever been mad at someone for saying thank you?


And that's my rant for the day.


Thank you for reading. :)

Summer of Firsts - My First 5K Race

Five years ago, if you would have told me I’d run a 5K, I would have laughed at you. Okay, maybe not to your face, but I'd definitely be laughing inside.

 Not because I wasn’t active - I’ve always loved to bike, swim, hike, etc.- but mostly because running is just one of those things I was never able to do very well.


I’ll never forget the annual impromptu mile run they would make us do in elementary school gym class. There was no training or practice, whatsoever.

It was like; “Hi kids, you’re here, now go run a mile. And don't think about stopping or we will yell at you and blow our whistles on our comfy little bench here.”


I was that kid hyperventilating in a bag and sick to my stomach the rest of the day (there were actually several of us). I just couldn’t breathe when I ran.

The thought of running thereafter tended to conjure up painful and even kind of embarrassing images for me.


As I got older and started living more actively and working out, running was still not amongst my usual workout activities. Sometimes I’d attempt to run on the treadmill for a while. I remember being so excited to do just 15 minutes on a treadmill. That was a big accomplishment.


Regardless of how much I pushed myself, eventually I always began to choke on my own breath. I would be panting for air - my lungs on fire and my chest compressed. I knew it could not be normal. My legs and body were not at all tired, but I just couldn’t get past this wall I would hit with my breathing.


You know how they tell you that when you are working out, you have a safe heart rate when you can still talk to the person next to you? Well, the breathlessness I experienced when I ran prevented me from saying so much as one word. Sometimes my face would be bright red or my fingers would get tingly. I simply felt like I wasn’t getting enough oxygen. Sometimes I would cough a lot when I was done and my nose would run.


Last spring, when I was recently divorced and living at my parent’s house, I was determined to pick up some new healthier habits. I got a second wind.


I thought, well I have more time on my hands, why not give it my all and see if I can finally overcome this breath thing and become a runner? I read articles about different techniques and I talked to runners.


I had always thought it would be amazing to run regularly: The changing landscape, the wind in your hair,  enjoying a sunrise or the smell of spring or fall, all while getting a great workout.

I wanted to be a runner so bad I could taste it.

I had already gained confidence by getting up to a mile on the treadmill, but I was bored staring at my parents’ basement walls. So, I thought I was prepared to take on outdoor running.


I thought wrong. I got around one block and had to stop. I also tried running around a small lake on campus where I work and could only get like a third of the way while students breezed past me with ease. I remember seeing them pass me twice and they were still not breathing hard, and there I was, a third of the way, wheezing like a dying person.


I thought; what is going on here?


I was disheartened, to say the least. I sulked back to my treadmill.


Later when spring turned into summer, I was telling my little sister about my experiences and she mentioned how she had the same problem and her doctor diagnosed her with “exercise-induced asthma” and gave her an inhaler.


I thought: why had I never heard of this? It sounded exactly like what was going on with me! I just thought it was my own endurance issue and never thought to get checked out at the doctor. Duh.


Fast forward a year later and I have my own Proventil inhaler that I puff before running. It definitely has helped. It doesn’t take it completely away, but it makes running bearable. I still struggle with my breath when running -- I have good and bad days. However, I’ve greatly improved from where I was a year ago.

I had a great time running on the beach in Florida in October, something I never would have been able to do before.


Now I'm to the point where I don't even bother with treadmills unless I absolutely have to for some reason, because to me it is nothing like real running. I work on a university campus and in the winter I use the tracks at the gyms here.


Most of this year I ran two miles several times a week, but I just recently got up to three miles...the week before the race, which is 3.1 miles! I guess I needed that push.

So let’s get to the event in question.

It was a humid morning in the beginning of June when Kyle and I went out to run the Sunburst 5K in South Bend. He was awesome for running slow with me for moral support - if he tried he could probably win that race.

And here’s the kicker: I forgot my inhaler. How dumb is that? The one thing I really needed to remember and I forgot it.


I was determined to complete it regardless, and I did.

My main goal was to keep a steady pace and not try and run fast and burn myself out. Inhaler or not, if I try to run really fast my breath goes haywire. I started at the 9-minute mile marker and was excited when I noticed I was passing people. Then halfway through, when we hit a hill, people all around me were stopping to walk (OK, some of them were kids, but still!)

I am not the fastest runner - especially without the inhaler - but when I saw that, I knew my training had paid off.


Kyle and I were just fine, high-fiving each other up the hill.

I could tell that many of the participants had not trained or prepared to run a 5K. I knew that all those mornings I got up early to run had finally paid off.
Even passing so many people, in the results I still ended up at a pretty slow pace of 35 minutes. Maybe I would have pushed more if I'd had my inhaler, I don't know. But I learned a lot from that experience.

I remember in the spring when I was breathless at two miles, and worried I’d never be able to get to three miles and finish the race. Now that I know I can do it, I’ll be running three miles at the minimum unless I’m having a bad day or short on time. Three miles doesn’t seem like a lot to marathoners, but coming from where I was a year ago - 15 minutes on a treadmill and breathless!? - It’s a huge accomplishment for me.


Now, I know finishing is no problem. Even without the medicine. 


Give it another year or five – who knows what I’ll be able to do?


A friend said she was running the Sunburst on her Facebook page, and a younger relative commented; “What’s a Sunburst?” You can tell she’s young.

South Bend residents tend to know what the Sunburst is since it’s been closing roads and stopping traffic since 1984. More than 7,000 people participate in its ten events which include a marathon, half-marathon, family walk, and, of course a 5 and 10K run. It was really cool to be a part of the event and I’ll definitely be going back every year.


Someday, I’ll be running the 10K :)


On a side note, have you seen this snarky Q&A page on the Sunburst website? Having directed a race myself before (a fundraiser for my job), I find it absolutely hilarious. The dog thing especially cracks me up.


How can you not laugh at that?

Summer of Firsts: My First Triathlon, will be the final part in this series. It will post the second week of August. Hopefully I can finish in two hours (without drowning, haha), since I'm taking students to see Beauty and the Beast on Broadway in Chicago that same day! Wish me luck :)