I don't like actually like running all that much. I get bored with it. 

I try to challenge myself with speed, distance, terrain. 

Then I ask myself, why?

And answer, to be healthier. To be able to run and play and laugh and compete all at once and better than I can now. 

The answer has only the most minor effect on my mindset.

Add to this the chorus of friends I haven't seen since I've started running consistently, each verse sounding something like, "Wow! How much weight have you lost?" "You look great!" "You're so small!" and my mind wants to stop my body from ever running again ever.

Counterintuitive? Yes. I was happy with my body before. I'm happy with it now. I don't want anyone, ANYONE to think I run for weight loss or muscle tone, because I truthfully don't. I run for cardiovascular and respiratory health.

I know my body will fail in looks before it fails in ability. I'm trying to prolong the abilities I have, not the looks. 

I also know it's an uncommon thing to be concerned with this. Yet here am I, concerned with it. I haven't been on a run in almost two weeks. 

Tomorrow morning, I hope to conquer my concern. I hope my friends believe my reasons.


Flying Tongue

This post will be short.

Yes, that's possible.

I only want to say that I don't cuss often. For comedic effect only, usually.

But when I run, especially when I run with my 9-month-old dog, you should probably plug your ears.

Most of it is directed at the dog, and I'm glad she loves me anyway.

That's all.


Running (To and Fro)

I've been doing a lot of writing. Not for a book. Not for a blog. 
I've been writing to run toward and run away.

It's a strange thing to admit that I've been talking to God in an effort to avoid hearing something from Him. I don't think He's going to tell me what I fear He will, but I was (am) filling silences just in case. 

He told me something in August that is ambiguous. I like clarity and certainty, because I like being in control. So now I'm waiting for the time He said to wait for, and flying between peace and restlessness in the mean time. 

What's been grand about waiting this time around is how I am beginning to own my emotions and distinctly feel each one. 
What's been less-than-stellar about waiting this time around is the extremity of each of those emotions. The time I'm waiting for will be cause for revelry or collapse. Not in the extremest of those extremes, no, not in the sense that I will be made or destroyed, simply overwhelmed for a time with joy or heartache. 

And of course, since I am a woman living in the age of Disney and Darcy, I may be building this up a tad.

I am trying to not glamorize anything in my mind, and not produce my own film of the outcomes. Some days are better than others. 

I'm both running to and from all that.

This phase of my life finally feels temporary and hopeful. 

I'm trying to run to Washington, DC. I want to go to graduate school for business there, ideally. 

I'm trying to run at least 3 times a week even though I don't have a race looming in front of me. 

I can easily run a mile. That's nice. 



Last Thursday night at house church I was asked what I would like to be remembered for. Not when-I'm-dead remembered, but when-I'm-no-longer-in-a-person's-life remembered. Slight difference.

My answer: I would like to be remembered as a catalyst for growth.

I am absolutely enthralled by growth in Creation. Plants, animals, humans. Height, knowledge, behaviour. Positive change entrances me.

I have had the exquisite pleasure of being able to spend the last 4ish years of my life in situations that blatantly encourage and spur on growth. And I've had the even more poignant experience of seeing my best friends become better than best.

One of those dear friends is Christopher Hunt. My very first AP, the one who successfully suckered me into believing in myself as a capable teacher and leader. He's moving to Vermont in a matter of hours. And although I don't often see or speak with him, it's a bit disheartening to know he's not going to be just a couple hours away, just in case. But that's my selfishness. I know he will thrive in the Very northern Vermont because that's just what God does with Chris: catapults him into unexpected situations that allow creativity, leadership, hilarity, kindness, humility, and strength to freely flow. Good thing Jesus also gives Chris those needed things in abundance.

So anyway, there you go. Chris, I know this will be difficult but fantastic. And as much as I want to steal your life as my own right now, I also know that God's writing my story just as fantastically as yours. You'll have frozen tundra while I have frozen yogurt...trade?


Rantin' Rampage

I just want to get some frustrations out. You can call this complaining, arrogance, impatience, a little gossipy, and other various terrible things and you'd be right. 

But as of this moment, I don't care very much. Another terrible thing.

I worked 3 shifts today. I was in a very small store, the same store I'm in almost every day, from 10:30am-6pm, and again from 9pm-1:15am. That's a lot. The morning/afternoon shifts went by fine. I worked with mostly friends and we got mostly stuff done. Tonight though...ugh. 

It felt like a wake-up call about my own generation and it makes me glad I'm not in school anymore.

Practical Common Sense isn't so common anymore. One of my coworkers was having what seemed to be legitimate mental struggles in trying to figure out how and why we refill the syrup bottles every night. 
Why? So the morning shift has one less thing to worry about. And no, it's not unsanitary if you do it the right way (meaning: hey, the syrup comes out the bottom of the bottle, so refill it from the top and it naturally cycles through in an appropriate amount of time. she's been filling them from the bottom this whole time, turning the bottles upside down.)
How? In the top. But the syrup is so thick and has been refrigerated!! How do i get it from the can to the bottle? Hmm..this is difficult, I know...let's see. We work..where again? 3 Spoons? ohh...duh. Think, woman! 

The other coworker: hey, we're kinda busy. one of us is working the register, one is cutting fruit to replenish our rapidly diminishing supply of strawberries...i know! i should make waffle cone triangles, and forsake my responsibility to keep the toppings clean, yeah! because those are in high demand and are definitely NOT the distinct responsibility of the morning shift. (last sentence, sarcastic to me, a legitimate thought to him)

Maybe I was just tired and that made me frustrated. Maybe I just know that every time that one guy closes things get half-way done. Maybe I just know that the girl is like too many girls I knew at Liberty. Maybe tonight was a reminder of just how insanely broken I am.

Especially because I come home to a very excited puppy when I am not excited in the least. And she wants to play while I want to cry and curl up and either write-to-express-it or read-to-escape-it. And she greatly dislikes her crate, so she spends 20 minutes barking and whining at 2am before she tires herself out/realizes I'm not going to take her out, all while my roommate yells at her about 10 minutes into the barking session. This does the opposite of quiet the dog down; it gives her hope that someone is coming. It's called self-soothing for a reason. 

You can stop reading if you want, but I'm not going to stop writing just yet. Another couple paragraphs should do it, though. Persevere!

I think the real source of my inner-tantrum is my impatience with God. I feel like I've been waiting for a long time for something, anything to happen in my life. I've sought out opportunities. I've taken what opportunities have come my way. I have failed in righteousness and returned to grace. And still...I'm here, in the same place. 

Two part-time jobs. One of which is mind-numbing, and irksome. Tiny house which doesn't even feel like mine enough for real home-ness. Dog that I love but is being quite the brat lately. Emotions leaving me anxious and disappointed, again and again, despite my highest of hopes. Hopes that I really thought were based on reality this time. Not seeing my dearest of friends often enough to encourage the sharing of all such things. 

I want so badly to live a real life. This is not the life I want. I want to work with middle school students. I want to help men become men and women become women. I want to have enough room to dance. And yes, to be quite honest, I want the freedom to love a man and to be loved in return; I want to be someone's helper, someone's Eve. I want Jesus to tell me where to go, what to do next and now. 

But I'm still....freakin'....waiting....

It's supposed to be sunny tomorrow. That's good.


5 kilometers is 3.1 miles

I'm running a 5k on the very last day of March in Atlanta.
I've never run a 5k before. 
Here are 5 things that begin with k or k-like-sounds describing my training:

1. (k)ontinuous bad weather: Supposed to run today? Yeah? Well, here's some rain! and Wind! woo!
2. (k)ompetition: with the 295734 runners in the Clemson/Central area. I definitely live in a college town.
3. (k)omposure: because I run with my pup, who is only mostly leash-trained and afraid of real trains.
4. (k)ravings: I forgot about this part of exercising. Who knew burning calories made you hungry?
5. (k)ounting: Miles, minutes, muscles, and other (k)onvenient things that start with "m" I'm sure.

None of those words actually began with "K". 
January is a bad time to begin training if you do not have a gym membership and do not wish to invest in one. Noted.

On the bright side, I've discovered that I don't hate running as much as I used to. Running outside helps that. Also, running without music actually is better for me. It leaves me free to think instead of focusing on the music. I think it's because I normally listen to music while doing something else, so when I run with music my mind gets bored because I'm not writing or reading or painting or driving or anything-but-just-running.

On another and brighter side, I've realized that I'm running this 5k to have fun and train my body to perform better. I can't believe I'm about to say this, because it's never happened before, but I am satisfied with how I look. I am content and I know God has made me beautiful. 
I have come to love my particular "imperfections" and actually revel in them because I know that if a man ever calls me beautiful it'll be (mostly) aimed at those things that will not droop with age but rather grow stronger and more refined. 


A List. Of things I haven't been doing.

 1. Taking a Sabbath.
 2. Tithing.
 3. Caring about what I read in the Bible if the Spirit doesn't reveal something to me in the particular words of the day.
 4. Being still.
 5. Being patient.
 6. Reading books consistently. 
 7. Being open in spite of my fear.

The first two are related. I'm highly anxious about my finances, even when I know they are fine. I've not been very generous, and even when I've been scheduled for an entire day off, I tend to pick up an extra shift to make some more money. What days I have left completely off I have spent traveling and with friends/family. 

That's it. That's all I have to say. So long!