Postpartum Depression

Much like my weighthate post, I’ve gone back and forth on publishing this. I don’t always feel like I’m eloquent enough to talk about such serious topics. I also don’t want people to think less of me. But even more than that, I don’t want people to question my relationship with my daughter. Because I love her very, very much. I hurt when she hurts, I laugh when she laughs, I love with her love.

But it didn’t always feel that way. It hurts to think that, to know that, to type that.

Lillie was not a surprise. We wanted her. We tried for 5 months. I cried every month (usually to Emilie) when that stick said ‘not pregnant’ and despised any and every one who happened to get pregnant within that time slot. Certainly I deserved a baby more than them – I had been married for 5 years, graduated with my bachelor’s, had a great job and a wonderful man who was just as excited about becoming a parent as I was. I did things right. I was responsible. I was fun. I was going to be a great parent.I guess you could say my pregnancy was pretty textbook. I had no major issues (other than swelling like a damn beached whale in the last two months). Alfred and I talked about what type of parents we wanted to be. We decorated the nursery. I was surrounded by amazing friends & family who honored Lillie in multiple baby showers. I was excited, nervous sure, but I had no doubts that when Lillie was placed in my arms the heavens would open, angels would sing on high and a love deeper than I knew possible would roll over me.

I mean, after all, that’s what everyone tells you will happen. We see it on television that way. Why would I be any different?

My labor and delivery was about the same as my pregnancy – pretty straightforward. My water broke about 7am, the husband took me to the hospital, I was dilated to a 5 before I got that glorious, glorious epidural, at 5pm I was ready to push and at 5:30pm I heard Lillie’s first cries and they placed her in my arms.

But no, the heavens did not open. The angels did not sing. And I did not feel a love deeper than I had ever known.

I felt relief that the pregnancy was over and that she was healthy. Mostly though, I felt just this crushing weight of responsibility on my shoulders. I was in charge of a life. A human life. What if I fucked it up? What if I accidentally killed her? How do I breastfeed? Why does this fucking hurt so bad? Is that blood? Is poop supposed to look like that? Where the hell is a training manual for this shit?

Like most things in my life, I didn’t ask for help. I smiled for the camera. I went through the motions of a new mother, but I didn’t care. I had a responsibility and I handled it in a way I thought was healthy – I distanced myself from my emotions. If I felt something, then it would hurt more if it was taken away. So don’t bother feeling. Don’t get me wrong, when she was hungry, I fed her. She needed to be changed, I changed her. She needed to go to the doctor, I took her.

You know how you watch the news and you see parents who drown their children or suffocate them? I understand that feeling. I hate that I understand that feeling. That feeling of hopelessness, of sadness, of indifference. That absolutely does not make it right, in any way shape or form. I never hurt Lillie. I’m grateful that I was at the very least self-aware enough to walk away when the crying wouldn’t stop. Whether it was hers, or mine.

I remember one instance when a neighbor came over to check on me and see Lillie, she offered to watch her for a little bit while I went to the grocery store. Lillie was perhaps 3 weeks old. I didn’t stay gone long –an hour tops, not because I didn’t want too but because I didn’t want to put my neighbor out. When I returned she asked, “Didn’t you just miss her so much?!” I smiled as I took her and said “Of course I did!”

But, I didn’t. I just said that because I couldn’t let anyone know how I felt. Obviously there was something wrong with me, I didn’t feel the way I was supposed to feel. People couldn’t know I was struggling. I had to be a good mom, what would people think if they knew I was having a hard time being a mother? I saw my friends posts on facebook where they talked about how much they loved their baby and couldn’t wait to get home to them. How their life was perfect because they finally had this child they wanted. Here I was with the child I prayed for and yet, I felt nothing like they way they talked.

I was jealous. I judged myself based on others [one of the many negative side effects I find in social media] I was unhappy and didn’t want to realize it. I lashed out at my husband, at friends, even at myself.

After 8 weeks of maternity leave, I was beyond ecstatic to go back to work. Finally, I could be a part of something I was familiar with. Something I understood. I looked forward to 8am Monday through Friday. It gave me the time away that I so desperately needed but didn’t want to admit too. I started getting into a real routine, I was able to focus some of my attention on other things than the fact that I was what society would deem ‘a lousy mother’.

It helped. I began feeling more like my ‘before’ self and that made a huge difference in my perception. That I could still be Tamara the Person while also being Tamara the Mom. Things started changing, feelings started to change and then one day, I had a huge argument with my husband.

What it started about I couldn’t tell you, I just don’t remember because it’s not what it started about that was important – it was how it ended. With a hug. With feeling like we were a team. I had unknowingly put this expectation on myself that I could do it all. I didn’t need his help [even though he wanted to give it] and I didn’t express to him any of these feelings. I shut him out, just like I shut out those emotions I wanted for Lillie.

That argument turned it around for me. He reminded me that I wasn’t alone. That we’d been together for 9 years of ups and downs and the  person I was hurting the most was myself. When I was able to be honest with that, with myself, with everything I had been keeping in for the past year – I felt relief. I wasn’t alone. I never had been.

And you know what? That love I talked about earlier? Where the angels sing on high?

It poured from me.

I was never medically diagnosed with PPD. In fact, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say I imagine most women who suffer from this aren’t. They’re just like I was – struggling to make it through the day without flipping shit for no reason. And they can’t tell anyone because heaven forbid they don’t feel the way society tells them to feel. Not enough people talk about this. As mothers, that hurts us but more importantly, that hurts our children.

So, here I am. Telling you that it’s okay. It’s okay if you don’t feel those emotions the first time you hold your child, because you will. It may not seem that way right now, but it will come – with time. With reflection. With understanding that you are capable. You are beautiful. You are amazing. You are a good mother. You may not feel those things now, and that’s fine. Because this period of time in your life is minimal compared to the future of the love you’ll be able to share with your child. She’s not going to remember that at 3am you let her cry for 10 minutes while you walked outside and cried in your milk-soaked pajamas. She’s going to remember you cheering her on at her first t-ball game. She’s going to remember you making her French toast for the first time. She’s going to remember every hug & every kiss you ever bestowed upon her because you do love her. You do. You just haven’t found it yet. And that’s okay because when you do, your heart will soar beyond the highest heavens and you’ll love so deeply sometimes it feels as if your heart is beating outside your chest. So, take a deep breath. Give it time. But most importantly – know you’re not alone.

You are not alone.

If you suffer from PPD or think you might http://www.postpartum.net is a great resource.

And of course, I’m always here.

You can email me at Tamara0827 [at] gmail [dot] com. I’m here to listen, not judge. I can’t. Because I’ve been there and I survived. So will you.

Miracle Match 5k

This was my 4th year to participate in this particular 5k. My first time was back in 2010 with 3 of my co-workers and I think the only reason I signed up for it was to see if I could. I mean, 3.1 miles – that’s FOR.EV.ER. I was about 30 lbs thinner then than I am now, so even though I didn’t realize it – I was fast [compared to me now]. My time in 2010 was 34:14. My times in 2012 were never lower than 40 minutes. Sigh.

I had really planned on pushing myself to get into the 30 minute time range and I felt like I did. However, my official race time does not reflect how I felt and what my Garmin watch told me.

Official time: 40:30.

And I can’t really dispute it because instead of shutting off my fancy watch when I crossed the finish line, I forgot about it. So, this happened…But you can see my miles were in the 12 minute range [hello resolution!] What what! I’m lucky to be pushing 13 most of the time, so I’m thrilled with this even if my official time doesn’t feel right. I’m not really certain what happened, but it did. So, no point in crying over minutes lost.

This race wasn’t initially meant to be about time for me anyhow. My Emilie was going to use this race as her platform into running [she’s been training] but then last week the doctor told her “NO NO NO RUNNING” [Something about her meniscus and cartilage gone and she needs knee surgery, sounds like a lot of excuses to me] But walking was fine.

I had planned on running with her, at her pace and just enjoying the fact that I’m slowly wearing My Emilie down into wanting to run. Muwahaha. But when the doc gave her the no-go she gave me the thumbs up to run my large & in charge ass off.  So, the new plan was for me to run, while her and Lauren walked it out and follow-up with a girls day. You know, pawning our adorable kids off with their dads while we shopped & drank margaritas.

Me, Lauren & My Emilie staying chilly before the start.

Are you curious as to why I’m wearing camo? Oh, it’s simple. It’s because I’m a… Back in December, I asked for your help on what I should change my bib name too [an option this race gives you to you, which I think is pretty awesome]– there was a tie between this & Tamzilla. I broke it with my personal preference.

I thought it was a cute little outfit. I felt like a badass at least. You know, except that my skirt kept riding up so it looked like I was showing my lady bits to every tom, dick & hairy I came across on the route. What can I say - I like to keep it interesting.

Also, I added a new tab at the top #RunTamRun that lists all my previous & upcoming races. If you see something you’re interested in running and want an opinion on it or if you’re just needing an excuse to drink with me (although, to be fair, I’ll probably throw back a glass with you even if we don’t run) let me know!

Holiday Swap Reveal

Last year [oh, it seems so far away already!] one of my favorite gal pals, Lin, hosted a Holiday Swap that I so eagerly participated in. This all happened around the time I was in Vegas running my first half. When the swap posts were to be shared I missed out on doing this post because 1. I’m a procrastinator and 2. I took a blogging hiatus over the holidays.

[But mostly because I’m a procrastinator]

So, you get a post that’s well over a month due. Try to contain your excitement.

I was paired with Sara from Welcome to Sara’s Organized Chaos. I immediately sent her an email to try and get a better feel for “her”. When she replied, I wanted to have her baby immediately. And still a month later, my loins constantly yearn for her awesome sarcasm and wit. I highly recommend you go check out her blog. She has a great way of writing with such honesty that you’re like, “This bitch knows what the fuck is up.” I love that in a blogger.

But on to the goodies.

Lillie was immediately intrigued at this box that just appeared on our porch. We weren’t inside for more than 2.5 seconds before Lillie was already screaming ‘Oh-pen, mama. OH-PEN'.’ I cannot deny her, so open we did. Sara did a fantastic job with all her gifts she sent. Lillie was especially excited for the Santa night light. I don’t think she knew what it was when we opened it, I think she just liked that it was shiny. She is her mother’s child. I was particularly pumped about one thing. That beautiful blue box of angelic godsend cookies. Lillie wasn’t so sure at first, but after one bite – I think I’ve found my match in Oreo loving. And while Lillie was entranced with her cookie. Enjoying each little bite as I’m sure the Oreo gods intended. Me? I was devouring them with the speed of a cracked out Ricky Bobby. I’m not ashamed to admit that after sharing a few cookies will Lillie I promptly hid them in the pantry away from prying toddler hands. Don’t judge me. I feel like Sara would have wanted it that way.

Overall, it was a great blog swap experience! Thanks Lin & Sara. You guys are the bombdiggity, yo.

This is for the hills…

I, obviously, am a glutton for punishment.
You see, I ran my first half on Dec 2 in Vegas. I followed that up about 6 weeks later by running another half in Houston on January 13th. And now, it looks like I’m running another one in about 8 weeks in Waco, Texas – the Bearathon.

I may or may not have an addiction.

For Vegas, I was just going to prove to myself I could run 13.1 miles and not die. I wanted to enjoy the rest of our time in Vegas so I feel like I was really conservative.

For Houston, I wanted to push myself harder since I already knew I was capable of running that distance. I knew it was a ‘flat’ race which made the thought of beating my Vegas time much more realistic.Even through the pouring rain and the chafing ass, I managed to PR [personal record].

For the Bearathon, that is not the case. This is hills. This is some motherfucking hills.

My plan is just to finish this one and say, “I fucking did it.” Last year, I ran the 5k portion of this race and remember thinking “Man, how cool would it be to say I ran the race that claims to be the toughest half-marathon in Texas?” You know, as I passed people puking and what not. At that time I never thought I would get to a point that I would think myself capable of doing it. But it’s amazing how time can change you.

After running part of these hills during my Zoo 10k last year, I know they are no  joke and instead of winging it with my training [which is kind of what I did for Houston] I’m attempting a training plan. I want to make sure I’m as prepared as I can be for this. I’ll officially start next week. For Mondays, I’m thinking my cross-training may be a spin class during lunch. Or who knows, maybe I’ll just jump on the trampoline. I’m wild, I tell you. Tuesday & Thursdays are just going to be me running at whatever is comfortable. I don’t want to injure myself over these next 8 weeks. But I do want to attempt to get faster. After reviewing my splits over Houston, I know I’m capable of being faster – I’m just not really good at pushing myself to be faster. I think dedicating one day a week to work on speed or running with hills will help prepare.

Wednesdays will be the days I curse Satan for allowing me to meet Moj. I love her dearly, but she makes me hurt. I can barely move my arms still today from our workout on Wednesday. She’s not a personal trainer, just a close friend whose always willing to help out a novice. Our workouts always vary. Stairs, burpees, squats, weights. She makes up the playlist and I just cry. 

So, here’s to another 8 weeks of training!

In the meantime, I have a 5k tomorrow morning – I’m hoping to drop some time on this, so fingers crossed.

Also, Sar from [life of love], me and a few other people are going to do a mud run on May 25th! If you’re in the Waco area, sign up! www.mudquestrun.com . We are doing the 9am heat for the 3.5 mile race. It’s going to wonderful, check out the site and let me know if you’re interested!  I ran it last year [2 miles] and had a blast – it’s a workout, but it’s fun. Promise.

That’s My Jam

 

I’m linking up today with two of my favorite people, Katie from State of Change and Shauna from theAwesomes, to talk…

Boy Bands

I was pumped when I saw the link-up for this. I love me some boy bands. It brings me back to a sweeter time in my childhood when all men danced in sync with each other, wore similar outfits and made me swoon with one little wink. Why can’t all men be this cool?

First up, of course, N’Sync. You were either Backstreet Boys 4 Life or N’Sync…I was more of an N’Sync girl myself. Not that I don’t appreciate the Backstreet gang, I just have this unrealistic expectation that J. Timberlake wants my lady bits.

Why yes, I will be your girlfriend.

Backstreet Boys – I love that they’re called Backstreet, like you’d totally see them in a gang on your way to buy dope or something and they’d deter you from buying with their smooth vocals and amazing dance moves. Backstreet saves lives, my friends.

Blink 182 – I don’t know if you could say they’re a “boy band” because they were a little more alternative than pop, but they’re all boys and I had a poster on my wall – so I’m going to count them.

And don’t you think I forgot about you Hanson. You mmmbopped your way into my heart and have never left. Like seriously, you’re always on my running playlists.

What was your favorite boy band? Or is? Or did you despise boy bandness with every fiber of your being?

Because if so, I’d like to know how – I mean, that shit is catchy. I don’t think I could say no to one of their tunes even if I tried.

Weight Hate: Chub Rub

After I wrote my first #weighthate post, I was kind of lost on how to continue. I felt like I really put it all out there and wasn’t sure how to come back from that. I mean, according to you people I was all inspiring and shit.

That’s just not natural. I’m the girl who falls up the stairs. I’m the drunkard who buys a 6 pack of wine because it’s 10% cheaper that way. I’m the mom who hides in the pantry to eat a fun size Twix bar so she doesn’t have to share with her 2 year old. [Kids know things, so I don’t get away with it very often.] I’m a girl who curses like a gawdamn sailor and loves every minute of it. I don’t feel inspiring. But I can be truthful.

But should I start with my relationship with food. [Food gives, I take happily] Or do I talk about gaining a shit-ton of weight when you’re pregnant? [It’s not as fun as it sounds.] Like I said in the first post, I have a lot to share - I’m just having a hard time figuring out how to do that in a way that won’t cause you to go - “Fuck, shut up already” or assume I’m looking for sympathy. Because I’m not. Everything I’ve gone through has allowed me to get to this point. The point of “Dudes, I gots this.” And I’m not ashamed of that.

Which leads me to tell you about something else I “gots”.

Chub. Rub.

Do you not know what this is? Well, let me enlighten you, my dear friends.

It’s when your fat rubs together and you get all rashy. Sexy, am I right?

I’ve heard people talk about it being the reason they don’t go workout and I’m here to say, that’s a load of shit. Oh, Tam, you’re so insensitive! But I’m not, because in addition to what you read above, I’m also the girl who could host a Bill Nye science experiment on friction. These thighs weren’t made for running. Or at least that’s what I thought a year ago.

Sometime after my dreadful 5k last year in January when I was walking/running on the track above the gym I decided that I needed to wear shorts. The cotton Wal-Mart capris were just hot. And filled with sweat. So, one day, I pulled out a pair of shorts to wear while I ran.

It did not go well.

I stopped after a few rounds because the ol’ thighs were acting like teenagers making out behind the bleachers – all over each other. I was embarrassed,this had never happened before. I felt discouraged. I mean, why bother working out if I can’t even wear shorts. This is Texas. We have two seasons – hot & hotter.

I’ve worn Capri's to work out in since then [although, not the cotton Wal-mart ones. I invested in a few pairs of nice ‘real workout’ ones]. And it’s not bothered me one bit. Instead of using chub rub as an excuse to not work-out, I punched it in it’s chubby face and found a way around it. Capri pants = perfect solution. [Also, there’s this thing called body glide. It’s like lube for your teenage love making thighs]

But then, not everything can be perfect forever.

Because this past Sunday came, you know, the one where I ran in the rain for 13 miles? You see, I’ve never ran in the rain. In the wind, sure. In the cold, absolutely. In the rain, fuck that. So, I wasn’t prepared for the aftermath.

The first thing I did when we got back to my aunt’s house was hop into the shower. I was so looking forward to it’s gloriousness. That is until water ran down my backside and I started jumping around like a cat with a firecracker attached to her tail. It had hit me. And it had hit me hard.

I didn’t just have chub rub. I had one helluva chapped ass.

The 3 hour ride home, not nearly as comfortable as it should have been. You know how I pulled out Desitin in my vlüg yesterday? Yeah, uh, that wasn’t just for my small child. That was for my large ass.

And you know what, it totally helped.

So, stop making excuses. Stop blaming everything else for why you’re not ‘getting out there’.

Because if I can chap my ass in the name of running, and still love it, surely you can too. 

Chevron Houston Half Marathon 2013

I slowly, carefully laced up my shoes. It was 5:30 a.m. and I was procrastinating. I knew we had to leave in the next few minutes to make it on time. We had to go out in the wind, the rain, the cold all because this wild hair invaded my thoughts nearly a year ago.  A year ago. Wow, what a difference that makes. I never would have even considered being up this early, for this reason 365 days ago. I would have scoffed and called this person I am now, crazy. Just flat-out crazy.

It’s pouring rain, 37 degrees and windy. Who are these people that choose to go out in weather like this?

Runners, that’s who. Runner’s of all types. Slow, fast, large, thin, old and young were at the same starting line I was on Sunday January 13, 2013 in Houston, Texas. Despite the weather, all these people had made a commitment and were sticking to it. It was amazing to see as I walked into the expo building to gather my thoughts & push away that little voice in my head that told me this was stupid. It was raining for crying out loud.

I knew it would be cold and had hoped it wouldn’t rain too hard. As I began making my way to the corral around 6:50 a.m. I thought I might have been granted my wish but then the starting shot went off at 7 a.m. and it was as if the clouds opened up in agony. Rain poured. I was soaked. Hair, shoes, socks, underwear. There was not a dry spot left on my body when I finally managed to reach the starting line at 7:15 a.m.

For the first 2 - 3 miles, I could barely see because of the rain. I hated that I didn’t wear a visor, a hat, something to keep the rain from falling down my face. People turned around and went back. They couldn’t do it and I can’t say I blame them. It was exhausting pushing sloshing forward. I ended up running a good portion of those miles with my eyes closed. I had never been more thankful for waterproof mascara.

Although it felt like it never went away completely, the rain seemed to subside after the first 5k of the race. I started finding my groove, I was jamming to my music, I was feeling strong. I was still cold and considered picking up other people’s clothes they had discarded and cursed myself for not wearing a thicker shirt. I could feel that voice trying to rise up and then I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was a man pushing his way through holding onto a blind man who was running this race.

Here I was – fully capable of going on and still doubting myself even though I knew I could succeed, hell I’d ran 13.1 miles before– and there he was. Literally running blind in the rain, faster than me. He was trusting his legs to push him forwards when all his other senses were probably telling him, No. Stop. Whoever he was, it inspired me to stop whining and just get on with it. The pain will come and it will go, but that feeling of accomplishment – that’s something you can’t take away.

So, I did. I jammed to my music, I watched other runners, I thought of how I was going to write this blog. And every time I tried to doubt myself, I thought of him. I thought of every other person out on that course who was doing it. Maybe they were 18 year veterans of this course, or this was their first [I’m referencing real people here who hung out with me at the starting line!] but they were out there for the same reason. That feeling of accomplishment. We were all reaching for it.

And then it was mile 7, the sun was starting to come out and I was actually beginning to dry off. I couldn’t believe how well I felt considering my longest run since Vegas had been 5 miles. I kept running. I thought I would pee myself around mile 10 but I didn’t want to stop. I couldn’t. I had come this far. I was so close.

[I’m in the red. I refused to let guys in purple tutu’s pass me.]

So, I didn’t. I didn’t stop. I ran the entire 13.1 miles. They were slow miles, but they were ran. Every single one of them. And they were ran faster than in Vegas where the conditions were beyond perfect. And mile 12 didn’t even kill me this time.

These are the splits from my Garmin.

My official race time for Houston was 3:00:27 and for Vegas was 3:04:27.

Four minutes faster exactly. For those of you who don’t run, I’m sure that doesn’t seem like much but I promise it is. Go out and run one mile. Then run two. Then run 3. And for each mile go 15 – 30 seconds faster than you did with the very first mile until you reach 13. Trust me, it’s not as easy as it sounds. Sure, I’m still slow but I’m getting faster and that’s one of my resolutions for this year. I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but with this one, I think I have too. You guys, I fucking rock.  

Also, a HUGE shout-out of love to my Aunt Shannon, Uncle Cliff, Maddie & Abi who let us crash with them (no hotel charges!). Thank you for letting us stay, eat your food and force you to drop me off at 6am in the middle of ridiculous Houston traffic and then coming to cheer me on in stupid cold temperatures. You guys are amazing.

Random Thursday: What’s in my purse?

I decided to be ballsy this week with the Random Thursday topic and actually put myself on video. [Meg did too!]

A vlog, if you will [or a vlüg – you’ll understand if you watch]

I had originally planned on having my hair & makeup suitable for public consumption but then I thought better of it. I mean, who wants to see another pretty girl in front of the camera when you can see a very average girl instead?

Totally better, right? right?!

Anywho, I’m pretty wordy & have a huge-ass purse, so watch at your own risk.

Oh, and sound off and let me know if you like the vlüg style and I may attempt at making it a regular thing!

Weight Hate

I have written & edited this post numerous times over the past couple of years but could never bring myself to publish it. Why? Because I was ashamed. I was embarrassed. I was unhappy with myself in a weigh way that made me feel alone. I covered it up with laughter, or poking fun of myself, or making every attempt to ignore what not only the scale was telling me, but what my health was telling me – I was getting worse. And then last year, something changed in me and I started running. I know it’s cliché, but it changed me. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. There’s so much I feel that I want to share, but dudes, you know how much I talk – we’ll be here all day. Ain’t nobody got time for that. So, I don’t know how this #weighthate series of posts will play out but I’m going to be as open & honest as I can with each one.

The other day I gave you my 2013 resolutions where I mentioned what I weigh. As I typed it out, then backspaced over it, I realized that I may be 190 lbs but ultimately, my weight does not define me – so I slowly, proudly typed it back out so I could talk about how I came to that realization.

This time last year [January 2012], I was absolutely unhappy with not only the way I looked, but the way I felt. I was slow, sluggish; hell, I could barely go up a flight of stairs without needing a respirator. I weighed 205 lbs.

It had been over a year since Lillie and I could no longer justify ‘baby weight’ in my head as the reason why I was not doing something about feeling so miserable all the time. It wasn’t only affecting me. It was affecting my marriage. Alfred could tell I wasn’t happy, but when I wouldn’t do anything for myself, what could he do? He was supportive when he needed to be, but I could tell he was over my constant complaining about losing weight. I mean, shit or get off the pot, am I right? #favoritesaying

So, with the new year and high hopes I went ahead and signed up for a local 5k I’ve done for the past few years. (I’m actually running it again in a few weeks!) I grossly overestimated my ability to run and it was miserable. I ran that race with a time [50 minutes] that was worse than when I ran it 2 months after giving birth to Lillie [around 40 minutes]. I was embarrassed by it (I actually didn’t even post my time on the post!), so that next week I went to the gym and ran just to see if I was really as bad as I was that race morning. I ran for 30 minutes straight. It was slow, and in circles on the track above the fitness room where no one goes because I was embarrassed to try and run on a treadmill in front of people, but I did it and I didn’t die. Which meant, I could do it again.

I decided to sign up for another 5k in March as motivation to get healthier and to lose weight. I had no training plan & no real clue on how to be a runner. All I had were a pair of shitty shoes, a couple pair of cotton capri pants that I bought at Wal-Mart on sale and this blog where I had mentioned I’d be running. You all helped hold me accountable and a few days a week I attempted to “train”. I would run & walk on that track during my lunch break. When the race came, I forced My Emilie and my friend, Lauren to do it with me. I ran it in 41 minutes and I felt great about it. To say I was proud – total understatement. After seeing such an decrease in my time, I got excited. I wanted to do more, I wanted to see what else I was capable of. I had caught the running bug. I started reading a lot of things about running, registering for races and joining forums. I felt motivated and I slowly started caring less about what I thought other people might think about me running [in public].

I braved the gym with the actual treadmills. I work at a University so our campus gym is filled with 20 something sorority girls & frat boys all the time but I didn’t care because I was competing with myself. My size 15 ass jiggled like a cup of Jell-O on a roller coaster but when I’d look around to see who noticed, I realized no one gave a shit. I’m sure people may have made a snide comment or two that I didn’t hear, but ultimately every one else was so wrapped up in themselves. Why would they care that 190 lb girl of pure awesomeness was running at a 15 minute pace right next to them?

I started getting braver and more adventurous with my fitness regime and less concerned with what the scale said. I focused on how I was feeling. I could literally breathe again. I was playing with Lillie more, I felt like a wife again, and I was fitting into clothes I hadn’t seen since before my pregnancy. I was learning to love what my body was capable of doing. My weight hit 190 around May and I decided I wanted to up my game. I stopped running for a month when I ordered Insanity and in two weeks I dropped 7 inches. People thought I had lost like 20 lbs. I hadn’t, but I felt like I had lost 20 lbs.

I quit Insanity after a month (it’s a 60 day program) to focus on a 5k I had signed up for, then for a 10k and eventually a half-marathon. During the latter part of the year, I stayed consistent with my weight. 190 lbs. 193 lbs. 191 lbs. My weight held me up during every single one of my runs. From 1 mile to 13.1 miles, I had stopped allowing it to hold me back.

You guys, I felt free. I felt healthy. I was learning to be happy and it was showing. Because of running, my weight stopped defining who I was as a person. I was enjoying life again.

And I am no longer ashamed of what the scale says. There are days when I question it. There are days when I catch myself comparing my body to others. Negativity finds me daily. Every day is a challenge to think positive, to remember I am capable. I can’t blame my problems on others. If I want to see change, I have to be the change.

I have to want to be the change.

And I do. I want that. So, I’ve been going for it. It’s amazing at how something as simple & mind-numbing as putting one foot in front of the other has helped me grow. Which is exactly why I get so excited when people express an interest in running. It changed me. It helped me. It continues to do so on a daily basis and I am beyond grateful.

2013 Resolutions

2012 was good to me. I was happy for the vagueness of my resolutions, because from those I learned how to appreciate what I bring to the table instead of feeling like I’m not doing enough, I’m not being enough. I think running has opened my eyes as to what I’m capable of, and I’d like to take that head on in 2013 by getting serious with some goals and throwing vagueness out of the window.

*splat*

Health

• Run faster. I really enjoy running and I’ve enjoyed my approach this past year – any mile is a mile. It may take me 13 minutes compared to your 6, but ultimately it’s still the same mile. I feel that thinking this way set me up for success in a very positive way and taught me that working out/running is something you can love if you give it a chance. I highly suggest for any of you that are thinking of running as a resolution that you try hard to use this mindset. Also, let me know when you are running and I will cheer you on. I love cheering for people. Okay, so with that said – I feel like I’m in a good place to work on running faster and competing more [with myself] while still loving this sport. Goal: 12 min/mile pace or better and PR in the 5k.
• Lose weight. This comes off of the above resolution. While I have learned this past year to be happy with what I weigh and how I look, I really feel that dropping some of my extra weight will help me achieve the above goal. I’m going to write more about my personal struggles with #weighthate this year because I want people to know that at 190 lbs you can run 13.1 miles and label yourself a runner. [Seriously freaking out about typing my weight out loud, but I’ll have more on that in a post later this week.] I also feel like it will help me stay accountable. Exercise is no longer an issue for me, I have a good routine. It’s food I lust for (my gawd, Oreos!) so I’ve joined Weight Watchers to help me with that. Goal: 30 lbs.

Financial

• Save money. After a nice, hefty discussion with the husband we have decided we really need to start investing in our future. I mean, he’s going to be 29 for a second time this year, it’s time we start thinking about these things, right? I won’t go into specifics, but we have a number we are hoping to have saved up by the year's end. The plan is to cut corners where we can without giving up our lifestyle entirely. For any of you out there that have any great budget ideas – please send them my way! Goal: $$ More money.

Personal

• Become closer to God. I probably won’t talk much about faith on my blog. I live along the guidelines that your beliefs don’t define who I am only mine do, so I place no judgments on whether you believe in the same God that I do or even in one at all. However, I am a Christian and I hope Lillie will be one day as well. I won’t force her into a religion, but I will show her all the amazing things I’ve learned through Him surrounding my life. Goal: Not sure how to rate this, so all you get is this little symbol -  ♥.
• Read more. I think I only read 4 or 5 books last year total. It’s a shame, really. But I’m going to up my numbers this year and in the spirit of not being vague my goal is 13 in 13. Goal: #13booksin13!

Bring it on, 2013!

2012: Resolution Results

For some people, resolutions just aren’t their thing. For others, completely die hard on it. For me? I think I’m somewhere in between [probably like most people] – I love the idea of them, but my follow through could probably use a lot tad bit of help. This past year though, I went with somewhat vague resolutions to help relieve the pressure of this must be done right now. But more importantly, I did so that I wouldn’t curl up in a ball crying that I’m a loser come January 1, 2013. [I didn’t. Score!]

2011 Resolutions
2011: Resolution Results
2012 Resolutions

If you want more background on what was going through my younger mind, just click on the fancy link titled 2012 Resolutions. And if you don’t, well, then, you’re a falafel.

Weigh Less Than I Do Now – Success!

I have decided that I’m going to share a little bit of my weight hate with you all in 2013. I went back and forth on this last year and I think it’s because I was still embarrassed, but I can absolutely say right now that I no longer feel that way. I am proud of what my body has done for me in this past year (considering I’m technically overweight) and I want people to know that if I can do what I did, then surely they can too. I’ll divulge more as I finish up a post I’m working on. But yep, I’m down about 15 lbs from this time last January. (It took everything I had not to write *only 15 lbs*. I’m working on thinking positive rather than reinforcing bad habits. 15 lbs less is 15 lbs less, right?)

Read More – Half of a Success!

I did read more books this year. Not as many as I wanted too, but to be fair, I decided to spend my free time in another way. Running. I did buy more books this year, but they’re still just getting dusty on my bookshelf. [Don’t tell the husband.]I’m taking suggestions for 2013 though!

Write More – Success!

In 2011 I wrote 51 blog posts, but this year I more than doubled that by having a whopping 114! I know there are some bloggers out there that post daily and I’ll probably never be one of them, but I’m happy with this. I had also hoped on writing more than blog posts but it’s been slow going and I’m okay with focusing on Lilllie & running for the time being.

Create More – More Success than not!

I like doing home-y things. I enjoy scrapbooking and making things. I really like to cook. Basically, I like all these things I just kind of suck at pulling myself away from the television to follow through with them. This year though, I feel good about what I did. I re-finished a bookcase for Lillie. I made Edible Fingerpaints and a Redneck Waterbed. I even attempted to wow you into liking Turkey Meatloaf and Stuffed Acorn Squash. I kind of slacked off in the latter part of the year, but I feel like I made up for it with the time I put into Lillie’s Two-Tu Cute party.

Overall, 2012 totally went down as a great year for me. I dedicated more time to myself and in the process became a better mother, wife & friend. I did things I never thought I would even want to do. I’m going to miss 2012, I really am. But I’m so excited to see what 2013 has in store for me. It’s going to be a fantastic one, my friends, I can feel it.

2012 in Review

I’ve seen this on a few blogs I read and think it’s a great idea to recap what happened over this past year. So here goes the link overload.

January

I can’t believe it’s just been a year since my baby took her first real steps, but she did and now there’s no stopping her. Ever. Seriously, she runs every where and if I wasn’t so proud of her, I’d say it was ridiculous. I was also ecstatic to share with the world that My Emilie was finally pregnant so I wrote this little letter for our future Tanner. And little did I know but January was the start of something great for me – it was the beginning of this love I found nestled inside my running shoes.

February

I talked about something that has been plaguing our nation for years and yet no one seems to notice. Probably because it only happens to those of us have had babies removed from our womb in some way. But it’s a serious situation and we should all be aware. I also got a little creative with a free bookcase my mother-in-law gave me.March

My daughter called me out for farting and then bravely followed the embarrassment up with a nice repeat of the word dildo. In order to get Lillie back though, I forced her to wear my size 11 clodhoppers.  Once I realized the trauma I was forcing my little girl to endure by wearing shoes that were bigger than her body, I made it up by making Edible Fingerpaints for her to enjoy. I followed the month up by going to the Houston Rodeo with two amazing ladies, Justin & Emilie and my new best friend, Reba McEntire.

April

I attempted to run outside in our back pasture which happened to go very smoothly until I got very itchy. Chiggers are little bitches, ‘nuff said. I also participated in a March of Dimes walk with Lillie, My Emilie, her mama and two nieces. We followed the day up with shopping and good Mexican food. No complaints on that day. My Lillie managed to get her hands on my camera and I talked about the dreaded baby fever that was consuming my loins. I also participated in my first Mud Run with my friends, Christine & Marcie! I’m hoping to do it again this May if anyone is interested :) And then to top the month off I ran in 5 inch stilettos. I know, sounds cray-cray but it was for a great cause and I had some bitching shoes to sport. Win-Win.

May

I got all Pinterest happy and decided to make a Redneck Waterbed for Lillie. But turns out I didn’t have to do all that since she’s just fine running through sprinklers with Daddy. I cried when Emilie called me to say she was having a boy. And we bought a boat that says Aquaholic on the side. [Classy, I know.] And totally took our kid on a tube ride in a lake infested with Justin’s.  I also really started working out with Moj who introduced me to Burpee’s (they are the devil incarnate) and I started the Insanity workouts (that I didn’t finish. Stopped after a month to train for my first 10k.) But I think what made this month most memorable was that I got into some pre-Lillie jeans – Buttoned, Bitches. June

I won a blogger award! I made Stuffed Acorn Squash! We went to Sea World! Noodling in Texas! I won a lottery!

July

I participated in a 15 Day Challenge where I probably shared too much information. Thanks to that challenge I actually had 20 posts (a record for me!) in one month. Lillie’s poop went rogue on us at My Emilie’s house. I ran the worst 5k ever (3.1 miles in Texas in July? I’m a moron.) I also created my first training plan ever for my first 10k ever.

August

I sucked it up and went to an actual store for runners to buy a new pair of shoes where they confirmed that I do, indeed, have man feet.  But then I started crying while running on the treadmill, so maybe they were soaked in babies instead of men. I celebrated my 27th birthday and my 7th anniversary.

September

I ran my very first 10k and didn’t die. I decided to be fancy and put a grocery sack in my very tall new boots. My Emilie guest posted for me because she’s the bombdizzle, yo.October

I became increasingly pissed off as my ankle swelled up to the size of a grapefruit which forced me to bring sexy back – boot style. I talked about fish and my favorite holiday – Halloween. And then I informed you fantastic people about how I was going to Vegas, not for vacation but for a #runcation!November

I dreamed about my upcoming second 10k. It involved zombies. Then I ran my second 10k through a zoo (no zombies, but there was a wombat) and a bunch of hills that made me want to punch kittens. Our Lillie turned the big T-W-O, I expressed my thanks & Black Friday went on without a hitch.

December

I ended this year in a way I never thought I would – I ran 13.1 miles in Las Vegas and loved every minute of it. #RunTamRun. Except for those minutes in mile 12. Those minutes can kiss my ass. After my runners high, I took a little break over the Christmas Holiday from blogging to be more in the present for my Lillie while I was off work (also, it sucks blogging over a phone) and asked you lovely people what I should put on my race bib for an upcoming 5k at the end of January. There was a tie, I broke it with my personal preference and will let y’all know when it comes race day!

Looking back on these posts written throughout this past year and seeing where I started and where I’ve gone and what I’ve done…I can’t wait to see what 2013 holds. Here’s to hoping for more running, less of my daughter’s bowel movements and as much laughter as possible.  Celebrating the beginning of 2013! (Yes, she actually stayed up the entire time!)

Random Thursday: Music I Never Get Tired Of…

I have a whole slew of posts coming y’alls way but I could not pass up this Random Thursday topic. I am a music whore. And it’s not that I like what people may call ‘good’ music, I like all genres but I think the 90s alternative circuit is what holds a special, dear place in my heart. That’s when I grew up, that’s when every emotion I was feeling was sung about at the exact moment I was feeling it. It was dramatic, it was first dances, it was tears & laughter -  it was life. These are all songs that I will stop what I’m doing to either jam like a clam or  reminisce within my own head (which generally leads to dancing. I have a problem.)

Everclear.
They were one of the first CDs I bought and I just kind of love them.  Always have.

Foo Fighters.
I remember seeing this video on MTV (remember when they played music videos and not reality tv!?) and just being like they.are.awesome. Hooked.

  

No Doubt.

Seriously. Put this on and I will rockstar this shout of it. And what girl didn't want to be Gwen Stefani in the 90s? Seriously. Total girl crush.

Aerosmith

I used to not like Aerosmith. I know. I know. There must have been something wrong with me but to be fair, I was only like 7 and my mom played his cassette tape over and over and over again and all I wanted to do was listen to Reba. But as I grew up and had a little more control over the radio things changed. And I'm so glad.

Hope you all enjoyed this little throwback!