How Do You Measure a Year?

Today, my alarm clock went off at 5:30 a.m.. For the 52nd time, I crawled out of bed, put on my swimming suit, packed my swimming bag, and headed out the door to meet the best friends a girl could have for our weekly swim.

Our morning swim was just like all of the other 51 morning swims we've shared.  We laughed on the way out of the locker room, we commented at how cold the water was, we procrastinated and chit chatted to avoid actually getting in, and we swam several laps {even sprinting a few}. 


Today, however, as we pushed ourselves up out of the pool, we accomplished something BIG, something we set out to do one year ago.  We had just completed 5 workouts a week, for at least 15 minutes a workout {most workouts were between 30-45 minutes}, for 52 straight weeks.

We had just lived out one life changing year.


As I reflected on this past year and what I wanted to say about it, a million things came to mind.

However, something new kept popping up as I continually thought about what I wanted to say.


The word that entered my thoughts over and over again was the word Love. 


This past year has been about four women who have loved and encouraged each other. It has been about four women who held each other accountable.  It has been about four women who loved themselves enough to become better.  It has been about four women who cheered each other on and wanted only the best for each other. It has been about four women living in grace.


All too often, women tear each other down.  We get competitive.  We let our insecurities get the best of us. We put on a front that we have it all together. We judge. We compare. 


And, in the end we all end up feeling miserable about ourselves.


This last year was about putting an end to all of that and showing the world what can happen when women extend love to each other and encourage each other.

As I sat down to write this post the thought of how do you measure a year? was suddenly upon me.  I then thought of the song, Seasons of Love, performed by the Broadway cast of Rent.  As I looked up the lyrics, I realized that this amazing song sums up this past year better than any words could.

Seasons of Love

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Moments so dear
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes
How Do You Measure - Measure A Year?
In Daylights - In Sunsets
In Midnights - In Cups Of Coffee
In Inches - In Miles
In Laughter - In Strife

In - Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes
How Do You Measure
A Year In The Life?

How About Love?
How About Love?
How About Love?
Measure In Love

Seasons of Love.
Seasons of Love.

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Journeys To Plan
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes
How Do You Measure The Life
Of A Woman Or A Man

In Truth That She Learned
Or In Times That He Cried
In Bridges He Burned
Or The Way That She Died

It's Time Now - To Sing Out
Though The Story Never Ends
Let's Celebrate
Remember A Year In The Life Of Friends

Remember the Love
Remember the Love
Remember the Love
Measure In Love

Oh you got to you got to remember the love,
You know that love is a gift from up above
Share love, give love, spread love
Measure, measure your life in love.

Measure your life, measure your life in love

In one short year there have been many sunsets and just as many daylights.  We have traveled many miles.  We have shared in laughter, in tears and in strife.  We have loved and discovered truth.  And, now it's time to celebrate!

To Katie, Kmac and B - More than words can express, thank you! Thank you for knowing that love is a gift from above. Thank you for sharing love, giving love and spreading love. Thank you for living life. You have been a blessing.

*Please note that this blog is a celebration of a life changing experience that I have been blessed with.  If you are finding yourself in a funk and feeling alone, please know that if I can do it, so can you!  If you need inspiration and great tips head over here and here.

The Race That Almost Wasn't

The odds seemed to be stacked against us {kt, kmac and me} as we attempted to complete our longest run to date in Chicago's Hot Chocolate 15k Run. We had successfully finished a 5k and a 10k and even the Mud Run, but for one reason or another pulling together the Hot Chocolate Run was no small feat.

Originally, we were all about it, at least as all about it you can be when it comes to running for an hour and a half straight.  We were in shape, it would be a new challenge and we would get to enjoy chocolate fondue after the race, and we won't lie, we only run in races that have great after parties.

Then on one of our dark night walks the cookies started to crumble.  We all had an ounce of doubt about the race and we were talking ourselves out of it.



It didn't make sense to travel all the way to Chicago for a race.  We really hadn't been training for it specifically.  Katie was going to be on vacation the week before.  And, was running 9.3 miles something we really wanted to do?


So, we himmed and hawed about it, dragging our feet because we didn't want to be the one to say, No, let's not do it . or the one to say, Yeah, lets do it! ... Road Block #1


After much deliberation, several facebook messages and one sleepless night we all decided to pull the trigger. Take that self-doubt and common sense.



While Kt booked our room, {thank your for your generosity kt's mom and dad!} I signed up online.  Kt quickly followed and Kmac wrapped up the registration with the last click of the mouse.  As each of our registrations popped up on facebook, my excitement began to grow, we were really doing it!


I was over the moon until I saw it .... my sheer haste and mindlessness, staring me directly in the face ... 

No, it couldn't be! But, yes, yes indeed it was.  Instead of signing up for the November 5th, Chicago race, I was now signed up for the December 3rd, D.C race. ...Road Block #2


After a bit of panic and some possible tears, {who would cry about such things?} I successfully contacted someone at the Hot Chocolate Headquarters and was told that they would switch my registration for me.  A near catastrophe was averted and it was clear sailing from here on out.

And, smooth sailing it was.  At approximately 2:14 on Friday afternoon we were loaded up and enjoying a sunny ride on our way to Chicago.  We were chatting, laughing, sharing stories and just passing by Saugatuk, when suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricks. 


I forgot my iPod! 


This, in my opinion, was even more disastrous than running in Washington D.C. all by myself.  Every non-runner/runner knows that music is key in motivating/distracting you in even the shortest of races, let alone a 15k....  Road Block #3. 


As I sat trying not to cry, again, super sleuth, problem-solving Kt kicked it into high gear and saved the day.  With her quick thinking, super speedy facebook messaging and an almost immediate return phone call she had arranged an iPod drop off with another girl who would be heading to Chicago in a couple of hours.  {I am forever indebted to you e.b. and mr. e.b.} Road Block #4 solved for the moment.


With that crisis calmed, it had to be smooth sailing for the rest of the way, and it was, until packet pick-up.  After several blocks of walking and searching we found a jammed packed central station with a line around the corner to pick up our packets and really cool jackets.  The lined moved quickly and in a matter of seconds Kt and Kmac had their packets.  I, on the other hand did not have a packet.  I, on the other hand was still registered to race in one month in the fine capital of our nation....  Road Block #4.


After a trip to line #1, a referral to the customer service line, a trip back to the packet pick-up boxes, a journey over a strip revealing no name, one more question to the nice volunteer and several reminders that it would be okay from my very patient friends, Road Block #4 was taken care of before we knew it, and we found ourselves posing the the Hot Chocolate mascot.

With all of that under our belts, all we had left to do was eat dinner, hit the sack and run a 15k in the morning, which now seemed like it would be the easiest part of the trip. 

And, with a curbside, drive-by, delivery during dinner, Road Block #3 took a final tumble. Nothing was stopping us now. 

After a restless night sleep for all and a morning full of butterflies, race day had finally arrived.

We were in the windy city, and we were ready to run.

With our ear buds in and our adrenaline flowing, we set off on the streets of Chicago.  We ran through tunnels, over bridges, through brownstone neighborhoods and back into the city.  We sucked down goo at miles three and six and drank Gatorade and water every chance we got.  We crunched cups and pounded the pavement with the best of them, and in the end finished a 15k with the sun shining upon us and a pride we had never felt.  

With the time of 1:26:17 {9:16 min/mile pace}, I crossed the finish line and #29 off the list.

In the end, the Hot Chocolate Run was so much more than a race or the road blocks that stood in the way.

The Hot Chocolate Run was about three friends who said yes.

It was about three friends who took a chance.

It was about three friends who decided they were worth it.

It was about three friends, who in a year's time, have realized that they are much stronger than they ever thought they were.

Mud, Mud & More Mud

Just one day before the Mud Run, I met a man at Panera.

I was having internet trouble.

He seemed to be working on an intense research project, including lots of documents spread across the table.

As I was troubleshooting my internet issues, he offered to help and go ask an employee.

He kindly, left his work behind and wheeled up in his wheelchair.

He was paralyzed from the waist down.

I don't know his story, or even his name. 

I just know that I thought of him often, the very next day, as I struggled with our 5k mud run.

The start of any race is always emotional for me.  The starting line is where I feel most alive.  The music is pumping, my adrenailine is rushing, and I am surrounded by my dearest friends on an adventure we never predicted.

Today, the start was different.  Today, I realized what a gift it was that I was able to run this race, that the pain I would feel throughout the muddy obstacle course was a gift.  And, I was humbled and thankful for the journey ahead of us.

And a journey it would be! {the most painful race to date}

It started with mud,

continued with mud,

mud,

and more mud.

And, in the end, as we neared the finish line,

I saw my boys,

and realized, even more, what a gift this race actually was.

I was able to run {with healthy legs}, with three friends and finish with my family watching.

It's amazing how a kind stranger in a wheelchair can make you even

more thankful for the journey we are on,

and the boys that I ultimately run for.

Discovering my True Self

Nine and a half months ago my friends and I embarked on a journey.  It began as a journey with the simple goal of getting our mom bodies a little less mom-ish.  It was a way for us to connect outside of our kids and make time for that person inside of us that often gets blurred between our mom and wife selves.

Little did I know that the pure act of putting twenty dollars in a mason jar would change me so profoundly.

As we began our workout challenge, we naturally started to notice what we expected.  Our energy was increasing. Our clothes fit better than they had in years, and we were feeling more confident than we had felt in quite some time.  

What we didn't expect was that after the dust had settled, exercise became less of a chore and more of a part of our life style. Our journey had become much more than winning the money in the mason jar.  The money didn't matter any more.  We didn't need it to keep going.  We were doing it all on our own, because we knew we could. We began to push ourselves to do things we had never done before.  Through this I began to realize an undiscovered and untapped part of myself that I didn't know was there. I became aware of the possibilities.  I realized that somewhere deep inside of me was a strong woman.   

Not a single one of us anticipated what this journey would have in store for us, and we had no idea how it would change us. 

We often refer to this last year as Year 31.  The year that we all learned something new about ourselves. 

For each of us, the theme of this past year has looked a little bit different.  It was the year of saying yes, the year of living intentionally, the year of giving and choosing life. 

For me, Year 31, was about becoming aware of the possibilities. A year to discover that there may be more to me than just being a mom, a wife and a teacher.  A year to prepare me for the journey to come.

As September 14th quickly approaches and year 31 comes to a close, I look forward to Year 32, the year that I discover my true self.  The year that I discover who I have always been and who God intends me to be.

I am profoundly grateful for this journey.  It is softening the parts of my heart that have been hardened by the world.  It is challenging me to pursue wholeness.  It is a blessing.

I am even more grateful for the dear friends who on December 6th, 2010 agreed to put twenty dollars in a jar.  Dear friends who say yes and challenge me to grow. 

Kt, Kmac and Bethany, thank you!  I love you dearly and cannot wait to see what Year 32 has is store.