I am a Runner.

Up until 2009 I hated running. I didn't think it was fun and I did not understand all those crazy people who loved it.

My freshman year of high school I was on my school's field hockey team. Our first practice of the year we went out and had to run 3 miles... in the mountains. I am pretty sure I almost died. Everyday of the week we would start our practice with at least a 2 mile run. Then we would be running all during practice. While I loved playing field hockey (even though I wasn't very good at it) I seriously hated all the running. I hated it so much that after one season of it I quit.

Then I was on the swim team. I loved every minute of it. I loved being in the water and somehow the practices where we were just swimming lap after lap after lap, I could endure. I came to discover that I had pretty good endurance.

In college, I took exercise classes. I liked working hard and I liked sweating up a storm. I also would occasionally go do some laps at the pool.

I had this roommate. She was gorgeous, funny, and just an amazing human being. We became best friends really fast and most of the time she wasn't at work and I wasn't at school or work, we were together. The only problem... she ran. So, I would go with her, but I would ride my bike along side her. It actually worked out really well because I could carry her water and snacks. The only problem is biking next to someone running isn't much of a workout. Boo.

This continued and despite my hate for running I am pretty sure every time she went for a run she would ask if I wanted to join her. Every time I would laugh and say I hated running. Until one day she asked, I laughed, and she asked again, she might have even begged. Not in a way that was in any way humiliating for her but in a way that made me feel like I really didn't know what I was missing.

So I agreed.

We went down to the beach and headed out on a 3 mile run. I told her I would run with her but when I couldn't anymore I was going to stop and just chill by the water until she was done. Every step I took I thought I was only steps away from my last one. I knew that if I went with her, gave it a try and still hated it she would see for herself that running wasn't more me.

Every few minutes she would ask me how I was doing, if I needed to slow down or walk, and to my surprise every time she asked my response was, "no, I'm ok." Around 30 minutes later we were done and I had just ran 3 miles. She asked me what I thought and I am pretty sure my response was something like, "It was fine."

The next time she went running, she got ready and started heading out the door. Now since I had given it a try and didn't say much about it I think she figured I still was not a fan so this time she didn't ask me. When I saw her leaving I told her to wait, I wanted to go. As soon as those words left my lips two things happened. Her face lit up, and all I could think was what did I just say??

So, I went again. And the next time I went again, until we started planning runs together.

One day I realized I was a runner. Running was no longer this thing that other people did that I didn't understand. Running defined me.

And so my relationship with running developed. At first it was short distances, 3 to 5 miles. My friend tried to get me to do a marathon and I laughed at her. I could NEVER do that. There is no way. Well, she went on to train for it and I started training with her, until she got to the really long runs. Her and her dad ran a marathon and when she came back, I was jealous.

So, I decided maybe I can't do a marathon but I could probably do a half marathon. I trained for a few months and I did it. I ran a half marathon, I couldn't walk after, but the entire time I was running it I felt so empowered and free.

Time went by and I thought maybe I could run a marathon. So I started training with my friend. Training was going great, about a month or two before the race the training program had me at a 16 mile run. I did it and although I got a pretty nasty blood blister I finished it and felt amazing. At that point I KNEW I could run a marathon.

Sadly, the next day at work I was playing with one of the kids, running around, and I fell and twisted my ankle. As soon as I went down and heard a pop I knew it was bad. It hurt so bad, I wanted to cry. Not only because of the pain but because I knew right then I would not be running this marathon. So, I called out to another teacher and they helped me into the office. I went in to workers comp which was a horrible experience. In a nutshell, they did an x-ray, it wasn't broken. They told me it was just a sprain, but I knew it wasn't. After too long not being able to put any weight on it and then when I could not being able to walk right I went to physical therapy, still it wasn't right.

After 5 months they finally sent me to a specialist. One minute, that is all he needed to tell it wasn't just a sprain, so he sent me in for an MRI to see how bad it was. The results: I had torn not one but two ligaments in my ankle... that was the pop I had heard. Great. They had me fitted for a specialized brace and a week later I went back in for it. Luckily, after wearing that for awhile I was back to running. I had to wear the brace, which almost made it look like I had a prosthetic foot but I could run.

Since I hadn't been able to run for about 7 months I decided to start slow, I started training for another half marathon that was two month away.

The half came and I did it. I finished and just a few minutes slower than my first one. So I thought I can run a marathon! And started looking for on to run. Then I got pregnant. Which was great, until the morning sickness kicked in and I literally could not eat or drink anything without throwing up. I decided since I wasn't taking in any food I probably should run until it got better. I lost 12 pounds before it got better. I was sick for almost 4 months and decided at that point it probably wasn't a good idea to start running again until after the pregnancy.

Fast forward to 6 weeks postpartum. I was cleared to run! YAY! So, jogging stroller in tow I set out to run. I thought I would start small with a slow mile. Well no one tells you how freaking hard it is to get back into running after pregnancy. It was the slowest mile of my life and I could barely breathe the whole time!

I was annoyed. When I first started running I went out and ran 3 miles. After 7 months of not running from my injury I just ran 3 miles. Six weeks after I push a baby our of me in 20 minutes I couldn't even run a mile?!?! Not cool.

I tried again a few times and the results were the same. It was hard and I couldn't breathe at all. Then my baby was hospitalized, that resolved, and then we moved.

I went from living at seas level to living at an elevation of 4500 feet. I tried running and if I thought my post baby body couldn't breathe before.. man I really couldn't breathe. I felt defeated. I was sad and just wanted to be able to go out and run 3 miles, 7 miles, 11 miles. There was a time a year ago that I could do that and the fact I can't... well it sucks.

So I gave up for a few weeks. Then one day I was having really bad anxiety and so I thought, I NEED to go for a run. So, I grabbed the baby put her in the stroller and set out for a run. I decided before I started that I would run/walk whatever I could, it didn't matter. I needed to get back into running and I had to start somewhere.

This run was different. I could breathe. I was running and I didn't need to stop. I had a good pace and everything was going great until it wasn't. I was running slightly downhill and the stroller was pulling me a little faster than I wanted to be going and somewhere I tripped and rolled my ankle... the bad one.

I almost blacked out. I wanted to cry. This time I thought well I will definitely need surgery this time. I called John, he stopped studying and came to rescue me. I couldn't put any weight on it so we tried having me sit in the stroller, but that didn't work. He tried giving me a piggy back ride but pushing a stroller uphill with your wife on your back is not the easiest thing in the world. So I decided to try and walk.

It hurt, but I could do it. It wasn't as bad as I thought.

This was about two weeks ago. My ankle is still VERY weak. I may start running again in the next week once I get a new tire for my running stroller. This time I will wear my prosthetic looking brace for sure.

Through all the ups and downs of running. Through the times I have had to stop for one reason or another it has become something that defines me. While it functions as exercise that is really not why I run.

My husband knows this. He knew how much I loved running before we started dating so he decided he was going to impress me. At that time the most he was running was maybe a mile. He ran 6.and while it definitely impressed me he hasn't been able to run since. A knee injury from a bike accident on his mission didn't like randomly running 6 miles. But he ran because he knew how much it meant to me. If anyone ever wonders why I love him this is one of many reasons.

I run because an amazing friend convinced me to do it and I found power and freedom in it. Over the past few years it has produced a lot of things for me. It has been hard, there have been days I hated it all over again, but those long runs and the short runs that I ran fast have made me feel so accomplished. Running has been my therapy. It is my safe place, despite injuries, and the one place I know even if I am having a slow day that I can succeed.

Years ago a good friend basically tricked me into running with her. She got upgraded to a running buddy and no matter how far away from each other we live that is what she will always be.

I am a runner. I may get injured, but running no matter where it is will always give me peace, it will always challenge me and it always empower me.

"There's something so universal about that sensation, the way running unites our two most primal impulses: fear and pleasure. We run when we're scared, we run when we're ecstatic, we run away from our problems and run around for a good time." -Born to Run

Thought Process

There are times when I feel like I should write a blog post but I either have NO idea what to write or simply have nothing to write about.

Usually when that happens I just don't write anything. BUT for some reason I have felt like I needed to write something all day so I am just going to see where this takes me.

Lately, I have had a lot on my mind. John has been trying to figure out what exactly he wants to do as far as post law school. While he does have three years to decide really he doesn't. The internships he does is the summers kind of determine where we will be and what he will be doing. While he can change his mind it does help a lot to have experience in the area you want to practice and have the connections with people and firms in that area. So we are trying to figure out where we want to live and what he wants to do.

While what he wants to do is probably the hardest part, and I can't really help much with that, where we want to end up... it is stressful to think about. While our family is in California, and a lot of his in Utah as well. We really don't see ourselves ending up in California and we definitely don't want to end up in Utah (it is beautiful and fun, but just not for us). Since we won't be in California we want to be somewhere close enough that we aren't super far from family, but we don't want to end up in the dessert (it's just too hot!). So most of Nevada and Arizona, New Mexico are out. John has talked a lot about Texas, the job market there is good and cost of living is low. But dude is gets HOT in the summer (or so we hear). Oregon and Washington are appealing to me, the west half at least, but I don't think that will happen.

Really we are at a loss, but within the next 6 months John will get an internship somewhere and that will probably decide our fate. We both really like the idea of being on the east coast for a few years right after law school and then moving back west. It works for me because my parents go out there usually at least once a year, sometimes twice, but I don't think we would ever see John's family unless we went back to California for the holidays.

Trying to figure out what we want, the type of place we could handle, and take into consideration seeing both our families is hard. But I guess we will end up where we need to be and will work out the logistics of family when the time comes.

On another note, I've been looking for some stay at home work. While it would be ideal for me to find something so we don't completely deplete our savings there is also a lot to consider. As of now Olivia won't take a bottle, the girl is stubborn, and that's ok. I want to be home with her, especially while she is a baby. I considered babysitting another child, that way I could have her with me, but I did a test run that was suppose to be a week long and it lasted one day. I got super anxious, I started stressing out, Olivia wouldn't eat or sleep, and when I left I had an anxiety attack. So that was bad. I've looked at work from home jobs but the ones that aren't a scam generally want a specific schedule and I really can't do that. Olivia is very needy and she definitely doesn't have a set schedule as far as napping goes. Again she is very stubborn, she definitely is going to be a very strong willed person, which I am so happy about but it makes it impossible to have a job where I sit down during a specific time each day and just work. So, although I generally look for something everyday we've accepted that this year we probably won't have that to rely on.

But next year when Olivia is older and is either no longer breastfeeding or at least not relying on it as her only food I do want to do something. I have figured out that being a stay at home mom is super hard. Besides the whole trying to take care of the baby, keep the house clean, and make dinner, and take a shower. It is hard to just be here, with just a baby and not feel like I am being productive. All through college I worked and went to school, I was busy. I always had something to do and I was around other people. Now I am alone most of the day, and now that I really think about it besides all the things that probably set my anxiety off (Olivia being in the hospital, moving, John in law school...) being at home and not feeling productive definitely add to it. Also, I want her to be around other kids her age, to help with her social development and so she gets used to being with other people besides me and John. So what could be better than for her to have that for a few hours during the day and me to have a job or something to give me more purpose while she is there.

But that is about a year away.

Back to me trying to have things to do during the day so I am not bored and to keep my anxiety to a minimum. At this point I go to the store a lot. So our grocery bill this month... ridiculous. I need something else. I was getting back into running but then I sprained my bad ankle really bad on a run, and then when I went to go run the other day, the tire on my jogging stroller is flat and I have to get a new one because it immediately deflates if I (meaning John) pump it up. I tried going to Target to get a replacement but they don't carry the right size. Boo. It seems like there is always something keeping me from running, it is getting annoying.

I wish I could volunteer for a non profit, I really love being apart of organizations with a cause but I can't seem to find one that would be ok with me volunteering with baby in tow. (Lame right?!?)

So for now John and I will keep discussing and try to figure out where we will end up, I'll keep searching for things to do, and I will keep trying to make running work! I think once I can get back into running for real things will be a lot better :)


P.S. I love John Elliott Sellers SO much! My anxiety gives me really bad, sometimes scary dreams, but he just loves me and laughs it off. Seriously I do not know what I would do without him.

Food

As many of you know, I haven't been able to eat dairy for awhile. When Olivia was first born she was very "colicky" if she wasn't eating or sleeping she was screaming, and half the time while she was eating should would scream and wiggle.

So many just pass it off as her being colicky, but I knew there had to be a reason. She wasn't just screaming for no reason. There was something she needed, something causing her discomfort. So I researched, a lot, and I found a lot of articles saying that many babies who are labeled colicky actually have gas, painful gas that they can't release on their own. As I read this I was like YES! Since she was born John had to pump her legs and push them into her stomach to help her relieve gas, she couldn't do it on her own. I read more and I found a common cause of this is an aversion to dairy. So, I decided to test it out. Since I breastfeed this means I had to eliminate dairy from my diet. And I did. Olivia started doing SO much better. The few times I have slipped and had dairy, she is not a happy camper. So, no dairy for me!

Not cooking with dairy is a whole new task. If you really think about it, so much food that we eat, and a lot of food John and I would cook had dairy of some sort. Milk, cheese, cream of whatever soups, cheese....and then there are desserts.

Seriously everything has dairy in it!!

So we had to cook without it. It had been going ok. Going out to eat, unless it's Thai, is usually hard because like I said everything has dairy! Down to things being cooked in butter. Luckily we don't go out that often. Then there is being invited over to people's house for dinner. I don't know why but I feel rude telling people I can't have anything with dairy and I just hope that what they were planning on didn't need much alteration.

Now I have been on a cooking adventure the past few weeks. Not only do I not use dairy in my cooking, but we eat very little meat now because it is too expensive and meat just doesn't settle well with us for some reason, especially with John.

So I have been trying to making new things and things that even without dairy or without meat it is still delicious and filling.

It has been fun and there have been a few things that I won't be making again, but overall I think it has been a good experience and has made me more confident in the kitchen.

I used to have break downs a lot because I would try to make something delicious and it would turn out so gross. I would think about how great a cook my mom is and how that gene must have skipped me. But now I see that it takes time, practice, and testing things out. Cooking is an adventure, it is fun and I love having John walk in the door at the end of the day and smell dinner cooking and excited to eat.

So if anyone has any yummy recipes that are completely dairy free, meat optional PLEASE share them with me!

Happy

So I was doing the 100 happy days challenge. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's a challenge to take and post a picture each day for 100 days of something that made you happy. But today after a few weeks of doing it I decided to stop.

I really like the concept of it, to find something each day that makes you happy, appreciate the little things and celebrate the big things.

And while there are many things that make me happy each day it was causing me issues.

Nobody besides John knows this, partially because I hoped it would just go away and also because I have friends going through things that I think are a lot harder but it doesn't seem to be going anywhere and it seems to be getting worse so here goes. Since having Olivia I've had quite a bit of anxiety. I've actually had a few panic/anxiety attacks (which I had never had before). As far as I understand it's not the same as postpartum depression but it affects me a lot. I think it has to do with the fact that Olivia was very colicky at first and nursing was a huge struggle because of it, then all the hospital stuff and tests she had to have, and then the big move and not really having anyone else here. Being home alone all the time just me and her is hard, especially because she is a very needy baby.  (I love her just to clarify)

I know a lot of people have worse circumstances and some people if in the exact same situation would handle it all easily. I thought I would be able to but for some reason it's super hard on me and it causes really bad anxiety. Which makes it worse because I get super frustrated at myself a lot.

This anxiety affects me in a lot of different ways that at times consume all my thoughts and feelings, some of those being that a lot of the time I feel like a horrible mother and wife, which I know is probably irrational but I can't control it. But doing the 100 days of happy was making it worse. If I was having a particularly difficult day as far as anxiety goes it would only be made worse when I would think I have to find something to post a picture of. My mind would start freaking out.

Here's what would go through my mind:
what if I can't find anything to be happy about my day? Olivia is a baby, she's cute, she should make me happy, but she won't take a nap, I just need a second. I wish she could just be OK for more than 5 minutes without me. Am I a bad mom? Probably. No you're fine. Just go run, running makes you happy. But I have to take the stroller, I just want to run by myself. I could go running by myself when John gets home. What time is it? John won't be home for like 5 hours. Plus when he's home I just want to spend time with him. What should I do? I need to do something.

And on and on. Usually I end up going on a walk with Olivia. Or cleaning while I try to keep her happy.

Anyway there are many things that make me happy everyday but having to have something was making the anxiety worse, making me feel like a bad mom/wife, and making me feel like my days were mediocre. So I can't do it anymore.

I don't really know what to do about the anxiety (and honestly a lot of it comes from nursing but that's one thing I don't want to change) but I know if something causes it that I can eliminate I'm going to. So no more days of happy challenge for me. Which is fine because I'm trying not to be on my phone all the time except in the morning before Olivia wakes up or if I need to look something up really quick.

It's the little things.

"It's the little things that count"

We have all heard that saying, probably countless times, but does it mean anything to us? When you really think about it, it is true. The little things are everything. 

I was reading this story today and this is how it ended....

"We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware- beautifully wrapped in what others might consider a small one." 

For some reason this quote really hit me.

When we first meet someone what are the stories we tell? The "great" ones. Or rather the ones we think they will see as great.

John and I are in a new place, meeting lots of new people. The stories we tend to tell a lot are how we met, started dating, and our wedding day, my horrific pregnancy, Olivia being born, and her being in the hospital.

Those are our "great" moments. But are they really?

While I love the story of how we started dating, how John proposed, our wedding, and when Olivia was born, and while my horrible sick pregnancy and her being in the hospital are big moments, they are just the beginning, they kicked things off, but those things are not why I love John or what makes me a mother.

When I think about when John and I started dating I think about Disneyland of course, that's kind of where it all really started. But what then comes to mind is walking into a halloween party after a night class and him pulling me down the hall to kiss me because he was so excited to see me. I think of him trying to surprise me and running into my room and doing a flip onto my bed only to kick my window out. I think of him throwing cards at me while playing California speed.

When I think about getting engaged, of course I think about the amazing way he proposed and how I was completely caught off guard because he made me think he didn't even had a ring. But then what comes to mind is the fact he had purchased the ring the day before I went to visit him for Christmas, months early. I think about coming back and telling my best friend and her running the short distance from her apartment down the street to where I was so excited. I think about our engagement photo session and all the fun we had just playing.

When I think about our wedding day, of course I think about the temple, about our ring ceremony, walking down the aisle with my mom, the food, and the first dance. But what really comes to mind is the fact the three months before John was on the other side of the country and I finally got to be with him. I think about setting up for the reception with my husband and all the help we got from a friend. I think about how amazed I was that not only could my mom sew an amazing dress, which I knew, but that should could arrange some pretty amazing bouquets.

When I think about Olivia being born I remember how awful pregnancy was for me and the moment she was born when they laid her on me. But I also remember only hours earlier walking up and down the stairs to the parking structure at the hospital, because I didn't feel like going in yet, and John making me laugh hysterically every time I had a contraction. I think of how excited John was when he held her for the first time. I remember looking over at them both sleeping and just being so happy. I remember the morning after our first night home with her and how exhausted and relieved we were that we made it. I think of how hard everything was and wondering if it would get easier. I remember when she finally slept on her own without having to lay on John or I.

When I think about her being in the hospital, of course I think about how scared we were. But I also think about how John's sister helped us pack while we were at the hospital. I think about once she was doing better watching John make funny noises and her smiling really big at him.

When I think about moving to Utah, yes I think about the fact there is no beach, that I am far away from family, and that I don't really have friends here yet. People ask so I think about how I am adjusting to Utah. But really, what I think about, is that this is our home for the next 3 or 4 years. I think about all the fun things Olivia is going to be able to do here. I think about growing as a family in the place we are now.

The big moments in our life are important, weddings, births, crisis', moves... but what really is important are all the moments in between. The small moments that bring joy and love, excitement, understanding, and accomplishment. Moments that probably mean nothing to anyone else but turn out to be your most prized possessions because those are the things that you will take with you throughout life no matter what changes or what hurdles there are to overcome.