It is often said that endings are disguised as new beginnings. The only problem with all of those beautiful reminders … Continue reading Life After…This.
Ok, so can we talk about training for a minute? This morning, as I was #swimbikerun training, sheer panic set … Continue reading Fear Not, Dear Child…
On Sunday, August 7th, 2016, I officially became a triathlete! I cannot believe it has taken me this long to … Continue reading Iron Girl Syracuse: Swim, Bike, Runnn!
Focus…one’s eyes fixed to the path ahead. Speed. Acceleration. Wind whipping through your hair. Well.. not exactly through your hair, … Continue reading Break the Cycle…Embrace the Grit
“Remember that deciding is not doing, and wanting is not choosing. Transformation will take place not because of what you … Continue reading Holy Hills ‘Merica!
So I have this reoccurring issue with signing up for things before I am physically ready. It is my way … Continue reading Do the Du: Ready or Not?
Run like a girl…yes, just like a girl. Like a girl without limits. Like a girl with bravery and confidence. … Continue reading When “Like a Girl” Means Win the Race
said Buddha…and I had become my worst version. Looking in the mirror, I no longer recognized the woman staring back at me.The battle with the demons in my head were winning, again and again. It is not a pretty story…the fall of oneself. The endless moments on the bathroom floor, wondering if I would ever rise again. So consumed with the darkness of the past, I couldn’t see a way out. “Who are you?” I yelled in my mind. WHO are you?? I didn’t have a clue. However…sometimes, if I laid there long enough, quiet enough, still enough, I could hear her. The young girl, the courageous young girl who survived her childhood. The brave adolescent girl on the stage. I could hear her…whispering, “Get up Jenny…you are love. You are light. Get up…” And I would. One more time. But how long could I continue this way? I couldn’t. I had a responsibility to my children, my job, my family. There were people who loved me that were depending on me, whether I believed I deserved it or not. I looked long and hard at myself in the mirror that day. The woman who was emotionally and spiritually bankrupted staring back at me. I gazed back at her in silence for a long time. Silence is a funny thing, the more silent you are, the more you can hear. And the harder and longer I silently gazed into the mirror, the stronger the voice within became. I was not going to succumb to my worst nightmare. The fighter, the survivor, the little girl whispering, “Get up Jenny” was in the pit of my being, locked up tight…and she was fighting to get the hell out.
She sat, staring at a blank piece of paper. The late 30-something year old woman. Fear. Fear is at the center of everything dark. So she wrote…wrote every single thing she was afraid of. She gave each Fear a name. Everything she couldn’t control, she couldn’t do, she couldn’t remedy, everything “she couldn’t” was Fear. Fear told her she wasn’t smart enough, pretty enough, thin enough, happy enough, liked enough, strong enough. Take a seat, Fear instructed. Lies…the lies that speak through fear. You’re too emotional. Too much to handle. Too sensitive. You laugh too loud. You’ll never make it on your own. Fear fought hard in her mind and seeped into her soul. Sit down, Fear said. The brave little girl, deep inside, decided to fight. Fight back, finally. It was time…
… for a new pair of shoes. Running shoes. The irony of this decision was overwhelming. People in my life actually laughed at the idea. And they were right…at the time. A runner I was not. I had “run” a few 5K’s here and there. And by run, I mean jog…jog slowly…walk. I mean I basically walked them. People were walking faster than I ran. I signed up for those events basically to hang out with my friends.
What you think, you become. I was defeated before I even began…I wasn’t a runner. The girl in middle school and high school who had to walk the mile in PE class, that was me. A dancer, yes. A runner, not even close. And at this point in my life, I wasn’t even a dancer anymore. The vicious lies the demons spoke through me challenged my self-worth, my self-respect, my “greatness.” You are nothing but weak, they would taunt. You don’t have what it takes, they would chide. Why bother, you won’t reach victory, they would persuade.
What you think, you become. Continue reading “What You Think, You Become…”