Category Archives: running

All You Klingons In Your Grandma’s House

I dipped out of school this afternoon to go to the gym. Because when you’re this tired and focusing just isn’t going to happen, sometimes you just have to run ’til you feel relaxed again.

The last time I got a good 8 hours of sleep was June 4th. And that’s why my blogs have been crazytown lately. Well, at least that’s what Mary said. But I believe her.

And I’ve been totally mindfucked all day. I opened my birthday card from Nonnie last night because I couldn’t wait ’til my actual birthday (whatever, it’s close enough). And this card was different.

First of all, there was no bible verse written in it. WTF! For the last 25 years (I’m not kidding), that’s been a constant. She’s actually written a bible verse in every single one of my birthday and Christmas cards. It’s just what she does because she’s Nonnie and I’m not religious but when something like that has always been there, you miss it when it’s not.

Second of all, instead of the usual combo of bible verse + regular encouraging note, there was THIS encouraging note:

Do you love medicine? You still have time, intelligence, drive, etc. to be a doctor! ūüôā We love and pray for you each day.

Oh my goodness, she reads minds. Nonnie is like the Spock of grandmothers. I swear to God she mindmelded me from 800 miles away. And yes, contrary to popular belief, you can mindmeld without physical touch.

Spock and the Horta… hello?

So, anyway… it was just SO RANDOM. Like for real, how the hell does she know these things? Unless Mary is leaking all my secrets to everyone in the family (you better not be, bitch) this is absolutely bizarre.

And even though I know I can’t actually be a doctor, this makes the temptation so so so much worse.

It also makes nursing school more difficult. Because before, I was 100% nursing. And then sometime since January, I’ve become 90% nursing and 10% toying with the idea of being a doctor. Now I’m like 25% doctor/75% nurse and this has to STOP because it’s self-sabotage and will only continue to breed unhappiness.

The fact that I even slightly consider Austin and med school as viable options shows that I’ve lost complete control of my life.

I’m like stuck in the riptide of “you could be an orthopedic surgeon if you wanted to be…” and it sucks.

That one morning in the operating room THREW OFF MY GROOVE.

I wanna wear green scrubs and replace hips. Or I’m just making myself think that because I’m afraid of actually being committed to something.


If Liz Lemon Was An Olympian

Lolo Jones is my new favorite person. Her tweets are hilarious.

Also hilarious:

Unlike another famous virgin athlete, Tim Tebow, who has the personality of a lukewarm cooler of Gatorade, Lolo is funny, charming, humble, and wry. Instead of a brash obnoxious professional athlete, she’s like your funniest single BFF whose career comes before dating, and is able to joke about it.

I hope she gets a gold medal.

Speaking of the Olympics… I’M SO PUMPED. Especially because they’re the summer Olympics. I’m one of those really lame people who really really really loves the Olympics. I thought this would pass when I got older. But I think it’s just getting worse.

But I don’t have cable so that means I can only watch NBC and not everything that’s on all the NBC affiliated channels that have more frequent coverage and a variety of events. I want 24/7 Olympics. So I might just suck it up and get cable.

My other options:
1) Go to the bar to watch the Olympics every night and become an alcoholic as a result
2) Invite myself to other people’s houses so often that I lose all my friends and become depressed
3) Watch the events at the gym but 5+ hours of running on the treadmill each night will force me to drop below a healthy BMI

In other non-related news: HOME IN 2 DAYS. This week has been hell. Because it’s the last week of this rotation. And it will continue to be hell until Friday morning when I leave the Gulf Coast and return to Pittsburgh for the first time in exactly 5 months minus 1 day. Provided I don’t miss my flight. It’s going to be close. And I’m STRESSED about this. And everything else. Really… EVERYTHING else. I’m having those bridesmaid nightmares that Mary said I would get too. And I have irrational thoughts like “what if my hair stylist sneezes when cutting my bangs tomorrow and accidentally cuts all of them off?” School stress is spreading to life stress. My brain chemistry is off.

I’ve already had an exam and a simulation in the lab (which is stressful because it’s a simulated chaos situation) this week. Then there was clinical today and another near all-nighter from clinical paperwork tonight then clinical tomorrow and a debate to prepare. And then on Friday, starting at 7:30AM (I couldn’t even make this stuff up), a medical math exam and a clinical skills final. Then fly home, do wedding stuff all weekend, hopefully not be too hungover on Sunday (but who are we kidding?) and then fly back Sunday night and take a comprehensive clinical theory final on Monday morning. Yes, we have school on Memorial Day.

My BFF is getting married and I hardly have enough time to feel happy feelings. I know this will change once I land and forget school for 2 days. But for now, I feel like deferring enrollment for 6 months would have been a better idea.

What’re Yinz Playin’? Rundown?

The new Pittsburgh Dad episode references one of the greatest games of all time: Rundown a.k.a. Hot Box a.k.a. Pickle a.k.a Stolen Bases (I’m sure there are other names, too).

I really think we played it at least once a day in the summer. The best times were after dinner when my dad would play with us. Sometimes Rascal (RIP, puppy) would run off with the ball if you didn’t catch it. Sometimes he would get in the way if you were running and cause you to get out.

– baseball, softball, wiffle ball, any ball, something to throw
– sometimes baseball or softball gloves depending on the type of ball you use
– 2 things to use as bases (cones, clothes, pizza boxes, etc.)

– min: 3
– max: 500
– ages: 1 – 92

– Runners run between bases, try not to get out, and count the number of times they safely reach a base
– Throwers throw and try to get the runners out

It really is like Great Depression era fun. Simple and economical. Kinda like stick ball. Actually, easier than stick ball because it requires less players and no stick.

Later this week I’ll post more simple/easy/hella fun/inexpensive games like Spud which is perhaps the greatest game to be played with a kickball other than kickball itself. You forgot about it until now, didn’t you? You’re welcome.

I actually missed my true calling as a summer camp athletic director and need to get this out of my system. Expect a flood of old school competitive activities to come your way. The benefits are that you all can maximize your summertime fun. Relive the glory days and whatnot.

Being a summer camp athletic director really is an art. Whoever invented the game of “Dodgeball in the Racquetball Room” is actually a freaking genius and they deserve the utmost respect, admiration, and gratitude because it’s the greatest game I’ve ever played and I sincerely mean that. Also… Hoopla: the most inspired Quidditch interpretation I’ve ever come across.

If I was a summer camp athletic director, I would owe so much of my ingenuity to those who came before me. I wish I had taken a short life detour and spent a few years of my twenties actually doing this. Oh well. No going back now.

I guess I could still invent new games for you all but there would be no way to test or tweak them. So, I’ll just post the old ones. The timeless ones.

Also, today when I was exhausted from nursing school and thinking about how I should have done anything but this, I thought about what my dream job would be. My first thought was “I want to get paid to run.”

Any kind of running would be fine. On a treadmill, on a track, on a trail, through the woods with no path, up and down stairs, through the snow or mud or sand or swamps… whatever. Obviously, since running offers no service or product to society, this could never be a real job. Unless you’re like a pro-athlete runner. But there is NO WAY I could start that so late in life and with my average level of athleticism.

So anyway… my next thought was that I could coach running. But with no real experience or expertise, the closest I could get to that would be teaching P.E. Not my cup of tea. Full-time teaching was never something I considered as a fitting career option for me. Although, I would love to have a whistle. And be able to blow it for the purposes of controlling large groups. Whistling really loud and yelling “Bring it in, people!” on a daily basis is kind of a dream of mine. More sadistically, I’d like to have a whistle to blow while controlling ruthless running drills like suicides. That makes me sound like some kind of Hunger Games dictator.

Anyway, since running or coaching running wasn’t gonna happen I decided to see what would happen if I Googled nursing and running together since nurses do everything. For real. If you have a nursing degree or are on your way to one, think of your dream job (or way you want to make money, no matter how ridiculous it is) then Google it with nursing and I guarantee there will be a job for you. Case in point: astronauts and nursing.

Well, after a brief internet search of ¬†the “running + nursing” combo, this is what I found: Certified Fitness Nurse


I definitely wanna work in a hospital for awhile and gets lots of experience working in different units and all of that. But when I’m ready to settle down a bit and stabilize my life and work a more regular schedule, certified fitness nursing is where you’ll find me. It can easily fit into my overall public health goals.

I have a passion for the cause of decreasing rates of diseases like hypertension and Type-2 diabetes which are basically preventable and/or more manageable in the vast majority of cases and the saddest part is that they’re unfortunately correlated with a poorer quality of life and shortened life span. Conditions like these are a huge burden to the healthcare system as well because they’re associated with so many health complications. They also¬†disproportionately affect people with lower socioeconomic status the most (for various reasons).

Prevention is where it’s at. And the best way to prevent stuff like this is through good diet and exercise. That’s where my role as certified fitness nurse will come into play!

Then after I get the hang of that, I’m going to start a non-profit to promote good diets (with access to affordable healthy food) and increased levels of exercise (with access to fun an inexpensive places to play and work out) for all kinds of people everywhere. I’ll petition professional athletes (and other rich people who like sports) for financial support and endorsements. Once this thing is up and running, I’ll become head athletic director and invent new games so that people can continue to enjoy exercise forever and these games will be spread throughout the non-profit’s facilities nationwide. I’ll have a team of unpaid interns to assist me because innovation is best performed in groups. I get to have a whistle during trial/pilot sessions.

I think that’s a good plan. It was quite spontaneous. Literally just created as I typed it up. Michelle Obama is my inspiration.

Speaking of internships, lil brudder applied for a summer internship with the Pirates. If he gets it, that’s badass and I’m going to be 500 kinds of jealous. I don’t know how many people apply for these things but I think he should get the position. I’m pretty sure he’s the only Pirates fan who’s still 100% loyal/optimistic. I try to be, but I have my off days. He never has an off day. This is a recent Facebook status of his:

Pirates runs scored=18 (worst in MLB by 10 runs )
Pirates runs allowed=25 (2nd fewest in MLB by 1 run, Fewest in division by 9)
bats just need to get going!

He’s also the richest self-made 21-year-old I’ve never met. He’s been getting zero financial assistance from my parents since he was 18. This was his choice also. They would help him through college if he wanted it. But he doesn’t need it because he’s so freakin’ rich because he’s a hard worker and smart with money. He bought himself PSU football season tickets last year (and they weren’t the cheap seats, either) and still had tons of money left in his bank account. Way more than I’ve ever had in my life. Resourceful and responsible are good adjectives to describe him, I guess. Since he started this road to wealth at a pizza shop, he knows how to do bitch work and will gladly do it. He also has mad people skills (everyone adores him) and knows the ins and outs of communication stuff since that’s his major. Basically a PR guru in the making. He’s also an incredibly talented amateur sports photojournalist and he’s really experienced with other types of media stuff (like video editing and whatnot). Super athletic and loves sports too.¬†No matter what internship task was presented to him, he’d excel. Obviously, if it were my call, he’d be hired. And not just because he’s my brother.

To finish off a lengthy stream of consciousness post, here’s a little something for your pre-bedtime entertainment: Steelers vs. Ravens

I’m About To Go Cytotoxic On This Test

That’s accelerated nursing program speak for “I’m about to tear this shit up,” and a quote from the kid who sits behind me. He made that statement right before the Patho exam bomb dropped. But I’m pretty sure that as soon as we actually saw the exam, we all wanted to physically tear that shit up. Like rip it up for real. And then maybe set it on fire. And accidentally burn down the classroom so we’d never have to go back.

Things we had to know everything about for a one hour exam:
– cellular physiology/pathology (middle school easy)
– inflammation
– immunopathology
– neoplasia
– genetic /developmental disorder
– alterations of the nervous system
– fluid disorders
– acid-base balance (A&P easy)
– alterations of the renal system

I got an A again. And was way more prepared for this than the Pharm exam. So I guess I’m getting back into the swing of things. But dammit, I feel like after this is all over, my I’m going to die at 50 years old instead of the predicted 90 years old. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be 90 years old anyway. That’s bananas. I look at Nonnie, who’s 80+, and I have no idea how she acts and looks so young. 24 year old Liz cannot fathom what it will be like to be great-grandmother Liz. I can’t even wrap my brain around what it’s like to be so old that your grandkids have kids. Basically, your kids have grandkids. No matter which way you look at it, that’s pretty mindblowing.

Anyway, there’s another exam tomorrow. And three next week. And projects/papers in between. I seriously keep having to give my body a pep talk. At lunch, it was like “Hey, cells. Here’s some coffee and sugar and a whole wheat bagel. You just gotta survive ’til 4. Go team.”

Now I have to give them another pep talk before we start studying all over again. Can I please get more than three hours of sleep tonight? I feel like I’m in some kind of twisted existential microcosm.


If you want to have a broken heart about life forever, you should watch that movie. If you don’t, stay far far away.

Probably the only thing that’s going to get us through this year is humor which is why I’m in love with all the boys who sit behind me.

Real utterances from two of them after our professor passed around fun size M&Ms…

– She’s trying to give us diabetes.
– Where’s the oxycontin?

Oh, nursing school. Where your professor is still the devil even when she gives you candy. And when you’d much rather have opiates to take away the pain.

I got cream cheese in my hair today. The direct cause was exhaustion.

Plus, my abs hurt like a bitch. And until I sat down at my desk when I got home, I had no idea why. Basically, as soon as my rolling chair rolled off to the side (due to a slight slope in my old hardwood floors) and I used my legs/knees/feet to subconsciously readjust, my abs burned like none other. Mystery solved. It’s a pilates-type movement. I was doing pilates in front of my desk for hours yesterday. I’m not trying to become a titanium muscle monster here because I’m a girl and I love love love being a girl and having awesome curves. People say you can do pilates religiously and still maintain your feminine figure. I’m not so sure. Have you seen Madonna? Isn’t pilates what she does? Pilates and yoga, I think. If there’s a risk that I end up looking like her after doing a lot of pilates and yoga, I’m just gonna stick to my casual runs of a few miles a day and partake in no other form of muscle-strengthening exercise.

Even the running alone already kinda makes it an issue. The last guy I made out with was like, “You’re crushing me with your thighs.” And that’s when I decided that A) we were never going to hang out again and B) I can only date guys who are at least 6’0″ and used to be swimmers, soccer players, or football players. Preferably soccer players. Their lean abs of steel make me melt. Swimmers have lean abs of steel but their triangle bodies kinda weird me out sometimes.

Ok, done blithering. Almost. All I want for dinner is shakshuka but I’m all out of eggs. I kind of want a man slave. Because then I could be like “Man slave, fetch me some eggs,” and he’d be like “As you wish.” Why can’t my dream world be a reality?

Various and Sunday

Sunday is the best day of the week. I’m a productivity monster. Avett Brothers (and similar things) all afternoon.

Although, I’m kind of wishing I’d just gone to nursing school in Pittsburgh because going to nursing school while living in Mobile basically requires every ounce of self-discipline I have. Thank goodness I was a ballerina for so long. Otherwise, this wouldn’t be possible. It’s summer all the time here.

I went to brunch with a super cute guy and then he was going fishing afterwards and he invited me and I couldn’t go because I have an exam tomorrow and need to study all day. And saying no to that¬†was THE MOST DIFFICULT THING I’VE EVER DONE. Brunch then fishing. Sounds like the best damn Sunday ever.

Every morning, I wake up and natural sunshine light is flooding my bedroom because I have super high ceilings and tons of huge windows and I just want to lay there happily ever after instead of getting up to go sit in a classroom for 7 hours.

And I know that this is exactly what I want and what I’ve worked toward for the last 1.5 years, so I know I just have to suck it up and get it done. But damn. When the alternatives to studying are kayaking and fishing and running on amazing cross-country trails and biking and hanging out on the pier and chilling on a boat and napping outside on the patio (in January?!) and going to New Orleans and going to Mississippi and eating crab cakes and digging up lily pads for your friend’s pond, your body goes into like “no studying ever” shock.

It’s the simplest and most relaxing existence ever. I should have moved to Alabama six years ago. I probably would have failed college though. The only reason I’m not failing nursing school is because I don’t have all those other college distractions (like excessive drinking, co-ed mingling, sporting events, volunteer activities, etc.) on top of the Gulf Coast distractions.

Another issue with studying is that my apartment has 10 billion places to fall asleep. I have a 7 foot couch, a 6 foot couch, a love seat, a huge comfy chair, a papasan chair, and patio furniture. They’re all amazing places to study but also have incredible potential to knock you out. And my office is the sunshiniest part of the apartment so of course I never get anything done in there. I’ve decided against getting a hammock. It would cripple my work ethic.

This like being in love with with someone for the first time (which I think I mentioned at some point a few days ago). I’m smiley and distracted and fluttery and all of that all at once every day. I’m so in love with life that I can’t get anything done most of the time.

11 more months. Then I’ll be living in New Orleans and working 12 hour shifts just 3-4 days a week and every single second that I’m not working will be spent on all the activities I have to skip right now.

Here’s a rundown of happy Sunday songs and videos. You’ll smile and laugh, I promise.

Long Time Gone by Tim O’Brien and Darrell Scott
Prison Bones by Matt the Electrician
(Turn Out The Lights And) Love Me Tonight by The Tennessee Boltsmokers

Civil Disservice from the Daily Show a few days ago

Happily Ever After

I still don’t have internet. This is just a brief post because I’m overflowing with joy. It’s not organized in any sense. And there are no paragraphs. I had a lot of coffee so I can power through some studying. But I’m blogging instead. Someone give me a crash course in efficient time management. I will forever be a procrastinator. But a procrastinator who gets straight As. So I guess it doesn’t matter how I get it done as long as I do it.

Mobile and the surrounding area is sunshiny adventure vacationland.

Class is a 30 minute drive from my apartment and it’s sheer happiness the whole way. I will never get sick of driving over the bay. And the sunsets are incredible. I’ve made my first real friend. We carpool to class and she’s awesome. She’s originally from Mobile. She loves the Avett Brothers. She’s a totally outdoorsy person (but seriously, almost everyone down here is). Her parents live on a river. Her dad took us out to lunch yesterday. We ate the most amazing BBQ in this dive-y place where they gave you soda in a canning jar. We listen to Railroad Earth on the way to school. I never had heard anything by them before this but now I’m in love. She and her husband drove to upstate New York once to see them live. Even though they play around here all the time. That’s how good the music is. I saw an armadillo cross the road. I learned that alligators are afraid of people so if you see one while you’re kayaking, they usually just swim away. Mating season in the spring can be a little dicey though. Apparently they’re all over then and kinda aggressive. And fences are put up on the causeway to keep them from getting on the road. I think I might be more afraid of alligators than hurricanes but I can’t wait ’til I see one. If we get out of class early enough, we see trucks and SUVs parked all along the road and there’s a ton of fishing guys sitting on coolers and out in their boats. Main campus has amazing cross country running trails and ponds with lily pads that apparently bloom like crazy in the spring ¬†(which I can’t wait for because it’s obviously gonna be gorgeous). I’m definitely going back¬†up there on Saturday. Cross country running is my #1 true love. There’s a sign near the trail that says “Beware of alligators and snakes” and there are spiders on trees that are as big as your hand. I might die (from animals or happiness). I feel like I’m in the jungle or a very very foreign land. Everything is flat so I can easily bike a ton of miles each day and there’s no struggle with hills. Main campus also has a super disc golf course. My classes are awesome and intense. I’m going to love being a nurse. But 3 grad level classes over the course of 5 weeks is difficult. Health Assessment is easy. Pathophysiology and Pharmacology require a ton of studying. My pharm book is 1700 pages. All that stuff has to be read/learned/memorized by whenever the class ends in February. Rachel (my new carpooling BFF) said that her husband just applied for a job at an outdoor/fishing equipment store where one of the requirements was that you have to know how to tie flies. The fact that a job with such requirements exists is amazingly awesome to me. There are also weirdly a lot of guys around here who know how to fly planes, whether it’s as a result of regular flight school or from being in the Air Force (I don’t care too much for military guys because I kind of disagree with American foreign policy in general, but Air Force men are hot/badass). I’m going to be outside all the time with a million new outdoorsy friends and hot/badass¬†gentlemanly¬†men and maybe never actually go back to Pittsburgh. Some stupid stuff went down right before I left anyway. Which I guess I’ll go into detail about at some point when I’m feeling less happy.

Although, I do wish I was at Belve’s tonight. I want the things I love about Pittsburgh and the things I love about Mobile to be in the same place. Starbucks is playing this song right now: Age of Consent. One of my favorite 80s night staples for sure.

Hmm, Control.

Hiatus: done.

The Penn State thing just about did me in. I refuse to comment on it in depth at this point but I will say that it honestly does feel like I lost my religion. Nothing is as it was and nothing will ever be the same again. Everything I believed in has been absolutely undermined. I went to the Nebraska game. It was like going to a funeral.

Then that devastation was soon followed by my ex-boyfriend doing absolutely one of the worst things that you can do to a person and rebreaking my heart all over again (as soon as I had solid closure) and without remorse. Needless to say, the combo of those two things made me feel absolutely dead inside for a good 5 weeks and I needed a break from everything. I kind of withdrew from 98% of all types of communication but I’m back now to share some holiday cheer!

You can’t help but feel hopeful during Christmas. Get this album. No more sadness. I dare you to hate Christmas music now, bitches. We all have a light inside of us and there are things, like Sufjan Stevens Christmas songs, that unbury it from whatever wreckage it’s under.

I don’t love Christmas for the presents. I love Christmas for the love. And the lights. And the fireplaces. And the family. And the friends. And the food. And the alcohol. If I never got another gift as long as I lived, those would be enough to keep me happy forever.

It’s also a reflective time. With the end of the year quickly approaching and a big move in 4 days, I can’t help but evaluate the last 12 months and assess the lessons I’ve learned as I pack my life away into bins and boxes.

My general thought right now is that I would benefit from something like this.

Hmm. Control, control. You must learn control.
– Yoda

Relevant (from PostSecret, obv):

I think that right there is more or less is the relationship I do have with some people. ¬†I’m a young Padawan. I appreciate all the Yodas in my life who really need me to get my shit together. I’ve been a disaster lately. Thanks, guys. I love you.

Some activities/habits/interests enhance personal growth and make you a better person. Everything I know about hard work and self-discipline, I learned from growing up as a ballerina. Aside from being incredible exercise, the things you learn because of what it requires spill over into all other aspects of your life.

Running is another one of those activities. And it just taught me one¬†of the most important lessons of my life. I think I had the clarity to¬†acknowledge/analyze about 50 significant life mistakes all in one¬†moment. Patience and self-control are now two characteristics I can¬†say that I’ve partially conquered, I think.

Basically, I was running so much and so hard that I was hardcore¬†overdoing it but I refused to stop because it was the only thing that¬†made me feel better about anything. I went running three times in one¬†day which is an absolutely terrible thing to do. Marco, running¬†expert/coach, told me I was going to hurt myself but I refused to¬†listen because I’m a stubborn asshole. Lo and behold, I hurt myself.¬†It started as a slight strain which I kept pushing and not stretching¬†which eventually built up so much that I could hardly walk because it¬†hurt so bad. Only then did I decide to chill the fuck out. And the¬†injury weirdly became maybe one of the best things to ever happen to¬†me.

An important thing to know about my previous running habits was that I¬†never ever stretched. My inherent impatience means that I like instant¬†gratification and zero to sixty situations. My inherent attitude about¬†life makes me feel like I can do anything and don’t have to listen to¬†anybody. Essentially, I feel invincible/unhurtable most of the time.¬†And honestly, I’ve been running for years and not stretching has never¬†been a problem. However, I’ve never been running this much or this¬†hard or for such long distances.

Basic running policy is that you do an easy warm up like walking or¬†slow jogging to get your muscles ready then you stretch for 5-10¬†minutes. I skipped all of that. I’d walk down the front steps of my¬†porch or get out of my car if I was running a trail or different city loop then take off like itwas nobody’s business because I loved that feeling of just being able¬†to go and how instantly everything felt better. Being impatient means¬†that I hate waiting and also hate the slow/steady work that goes into¬†things.

So the whole no stretching thing probably started the injury then my refusal
to quit or acknowledge pain made it worse and everything came crashing¬†down when it hurt too much to walk and I realized I’d ruined myself. I pushed it too hard on Saturday¬†night of Halloween weekend and woke up pretty sore then decided it was¬†a good idea to go running that Sunday. Worst decision ever. By Monday, I¬†was nearly¬†immobile¬†and realized I wouldn’t be able to run for many
many days. Basically, because of my own stupidity and refusal to quit, I wrecked my ability to do the only thing that was making me happy.

Reasons why this actually ended up being ok:
1) I realized that I can be happy and deal with my anger/hostility¬†issues without running. Plus, they’ve subsided anyway. I think that’s emotional progress. Real people feel sadness. Monsters feel anger.
2) I had one of the biggest paradigm shifts of my life. My attitude about everything was so wrong and destructive. I’m now face to face with this and I feel like I’ve finally cracked the code as to why everything was broken in every way. Perhaps you kind of have to destroy yourself in certain ways before you can get anywhere. Especially when you’ve wrecked everything else first. Sometimes things are just unsalvageable.

When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.
– Stars, Your Ex Lover is Dead

Obviously, there were little glimmers of constructive and positive thoughts/emotions in there. But overall, somewhere along the road, I turned into this dark and broken person and I was too blind to understand where it was coming from or why it was there.

Then sometime in November, I went on a rehab run that changed everything. My attitude had ruined my body and that ruined my habit so then I had to acknowledge the whole thing and start over ¬†which was kind of the most liberating thing I’ve ever felt because now I understand the consequences and appreciate the fact that a little patience and calm go a long way. I don’t really wanna make a “slow and steady wins the race” analogy here because it’s a slightly imperfect analogy but I do kind of feel like the¬†tortoise¬†instead of the hare now. Had I been patient and not crazy, I wouldn’t have missed 10ish days of running. If I had stretched, I wouldn’t have pulled anything. If I had taken it easy when I pulled something, I would have been out for one or two days instead of 10. I would have been able to walk without pain. I wouldn’t have to rebuild so slowly and carefully.

Now that I’ve made the mistakes and started over, I’m a better runner with a healthier attitude about it and life. I took a step back to heal and recover slowly instead of pushing it because I was destroying myself. I think that kind of applies to everything I’ve done in the last year. A lot of self-destruction and impatience and refusal to appropriately deal with things. Some of that has been stress related and the basic fact that sometimes you just need to get shit done. I was on hyperdrive all summer while working full-time and taking 2 semesters of A&P in 12 weeks. You can’t do that unless you force yourself to shut down and enter sheer survival mode. Then I guess there was the breakup stuff right after that and then the breakup aftermath stuff and I never really came down from all of it until the beginning of this month when I had closure (then of course he fucked me up again but it’s cool because I’ll soon be an untouchable 800 miles away). Anyway, I guess I’ve just realized that you can’t just always push through things. We’re not physical, mental, or emotional¬†superheroes.

I’m not unbreakable. That was a really difficult thing for me to acknowledge because in my head, I’m fierce and I can do anything and there are no limits. Physically, mentally, or emotionally. I thought I could run forever and learn anything and not have to feel heartbreak feelings and just move on instead. But I kind of feel happier now that I’m forced to recognize that I’m human just like everyone else. I feel more connected and less dead. We’re all in this together.

And running isn’t some kind of sick vice to me now. That sounds kind of crazy. Like how can exercise be bad for you? It was. Trust me. Now, running is what it used to be to me… my love and my passion and what I do when I’m happy instead of too pissed off to live.

I still have a lot to learn about control and discipline and patience and stability but the mistakes help me become better. All my pseudo-Yodas and life experience have played a significant role in my 2011 growth as a person. We all grow a little or a lot each year.

Just like I had to start slowly and stretch infinitely and relearn everything I knew about running, it was a good and necessary thing and now I’m 110% better off than I was before. Had I not destroyed myself, I wouldn’t have acquired this important and life-altering perspective. Destroying yourself sucks, but it happens and if you can rise out of the ashes, then it becomes one of the most positive things you can experience.

I destroyed a lot of myself in a ton of ways in a million aspects of my life this year. I’m finally beginning to start over and take it slow and get my shit together and be patient with myself and others and look at the long-term things instead of just the immediate ones.

The old Liz was impulsive and cracked under pressure and the reality of life. The new Liz is learning control and to chill out and do things the right way.

Luke conquers that shit becomes one of the greatest Jedi heroes of all time. I’m optimistic that I can achieve equally great things with time and practice.

Also, endorphins are damn addicting.