Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

“People won’t have time for you if you are always angry or complaining.” ~Stephen Hawking

I sit.  I stare at the screen.  I know what I want to write, but I don’t.  I know what I need to say, but the words don’t form.  So instead of making myself, instead of just writing anything at all I shut the laptop and reach for the remote and drown my thoughts in crappy TV.

Lately, it seems, all I feel is angry and bitter.  Towards my family.  Towards my friends.  Towards myself.  Even towards baby #3.   Almost everything makes me hostile.  I have been focusing so much on all the can’ts, and the won’ts, and the shouldn’ts and it’s really been eating me up inside.  I’m 38 weeks pregnant and even after today’s appointment, the baby isn’t ready to come.  I can’t run as fast or as much as I used to and yet all my friends are out there doing it and I feel so resentful toward them.  I shouldn’t be as mean and nasty as I’ve been to so many people around me and yet, I continue to do it every day.  I can’t get a good night sleep so I’m constantly tired and instead of going to bed earlier, I just blame the husband who can fall asleep at the drop of a hat.

Do you ever have those moments where it seems like you are outside your own body watching what’s going on?  That’s what this feels like.  Consciously, I know what I’m doing.  I’m literally screaming at myself to stop or shut up, to bite my tongue or walk away but I just don’t.  Afterward, not only do I feel terrible, but then the guilt sets in and it’s a downward spiral of shame and doubt and self-loathing until the next wave of anger sets in.

I have all these plans.  Big plans.  Colossal plans that I want to begin to see into fruition, but I can’t do anything about them until the baby comes. Everyone around me is moving forward, reaching goals, working towards whatever it is that they want to achieve, and here I am stuck.  I feel like I can’t do anything; make changes, move forward, anything, until this baby is born.

I’m sitting still and I hate sitting still.

I need to do something. The waiting place is a hard place to be.  But I don’t have to make it harder.



Yesterday was a good day.

“Running is like life, it’s a long journey, but well worth it.” ~Unknown

I needed yesterday. More than you know.

I woke up at 3:30 in the morning with the lovely pregnancy insomnia that has plagued me for weeks. It was also our first day without a delay or a day off in a week so the thought of working a full day was already tiring. When I couldn’t get back to sleep I decided just to get up and go for a run.

I hadn’t run in over a month and the entire month I felt off. February was rough. I had an extremely short temper with pretty much anyone that came in contact with me. I was angry, hostile, bitter. I felt like I hated the world. I felt like a terrible parent, a terrible wife, and a terrible friend. I blamed these feelings on the pregnancy and on the hormones, but really, what I think happened was that I just didn’t run.

Running has always been my therapy. As a kindergarten teacher and a mother, I don’t get much time to myself. Add pregnancy into the mix and most of the time that I had to myself had me being way too tired to do anything anyway.

I could tell you why I stopped for a month. I could tell you it was because the doctor recommended it (which she did, a least until 36 weeks), or because I was too busy, or because I was too tired. And for the most part all of these things are true. But the real reasons I stopped are far more shallow. I didn’t have a real goal to work towards to I slacked off. I got tired of seeing my mile times increase and increase some more. I got tired of seeing the scale go up incrementally.

So I stopped. I figured what’s the point. I would just sit around for the next few weeks and be lazy and grow a baby.

But what I’ve found is that I can’t stop. I need running. Like I need air. Like I need food. Like I need my family. I need it like my life depends on it. Because for all intents and purposes, it does.

So yesterday was important. Yes, I was more tired and sore than normal. But it didn’t matter. For the first time in a month I felt like me again. I felt positive. I felt ready. I felt alive.

So it’s time. It’s time to stop worrying about my time. It’s time to stopping thinking, period, and just run. Because you never know what amazing things lie on the horizon. And I know whatever they are, I can conquer them with my eyes wide open and my heart ready for anything.


Starting Over Yet Again

“Life is tough, but so are you.” ~Unknown

Looking through old items on my phone a few days ago reminded me of just how tough last February was.  I had just picked back up with my running and wasn’t impressed with my progress.  It was very snowy and the kids and I were going stir crazy.  I was an overly emotional wreck, which I chalked up to nothing and everything all at once.

Flash forward to this February…which hasn’t been much better.  It’s been a month since I’ve run because I’m finding it close to impossible to run in the late stages of pregnancy.  The weather hasn’t been that great and while I am enjoying my extra time off, I’m not enjoying my car continually needing work and the below zero temperatures that have kept us all indoors.  And once again I have been an overall emotionally wreck, which, I wish I could chalk up to being super pregnant, but unfortunately I know that’s not the whole reason.

But now it’s a new month.  With March comes the promise of sunnier days, *slightly* warmer weather, baby delivery, and simply a time of rejuvenation and starting over yet again.

I constantly feel like I’m starting over could be considered both a blessing and a curse.  I have to keep starting over because in reality I keep failing.  Promises and goals not kept, excuses constantly given, deals made and broken are all keeping me right where I deserve to be.  I feel like I’m in a whole and I can can totally figure out how to get myself out of it, but I just don’t do it.  I know it’s going to take work and discipline and self-sacrifice, but I am never consistent with any of these things.

On top of it all I really haven’t been able to run and it’s killing me.  I use running as a form of therapy.  It’s time for me to work out the problems in my head.  It’s time for me to be alone (which is close to impossible when you are a Kindergarten teacher with a stay at home husband and two small children).  It’s just a time for me to be completely and utterly myself and I haven’t had that in a while.

I understand, though, that the ability to start over is a blessing.  Each new day gives me a chance to try my hand at my goals one more time.  And each day I wake up thinking this is the day I’m going to make it work.

I need to stop making excuses.  I need to readjust my goals until this baby comes.  I need to readjust my goals period.

What do I want to accomplish?  Who do I want to be?  What do I want to do?

I need to process.  I need time to think.  I need to run.