Broken Hearted Runner

I've recently had several conversations with a close friend who is struggling with life. My friend was raised a Christian who, for the most part, followed a youth of asceticism. He walled himself off from the things that distracted him from his beliefs. He was strong and, while he slipped a few times in his teen years, he repented - staying on track and doing what he thought was right and good in the eyes of the Lord. As he grew older and unhappy, he was faced with temptations. His life became confusing and his guilt became overwhelming. Making decisions that rose from his own deep depression, he grew further and further from his faith. This is the exact opposite of my own life. I was not raised a Christian. I was allowed to make my own mistakes without the guidance of the bible. I often overindulged and this created a very emotionally tumultuous young adult life for me. However, by consequence of my excessive behavior, somehow I was led to a path that required me to examine m...

Over the past several months I've been criticized for my blog. Some people literally asking, "Who puts that stuff out there?" This perspective has challenged me and made me question my own intentions. But I'm so thankful that I've had the support of a few who have encouraged me and empowered me. Close friends reminded me that my words are my creative contribution. They are the songs of my heart and the paintings of my soul. These words are not diatribes meant to inflict pain on anyone else, they are simply my emotional expressions - they are my art. It has been my dream, for as long as I can remember, to be a writer. (In truth, to have a small chateau in the french countryside with a patio for me to sit and drink coffee while I watch the sunrise over my vineyard... and write.) Well, in some way, I've always been a writer, but I've always thought it a facade. I felt like I was as much of a writer as I am a runner... I never thought myself worthy...

After leaving a client event on Saturday night, I found myself driving my Camry through a muddy parking lot with an older male coworker and 2 clients, trying to escape the madness. (I was the sober driver who offered them a ride back to their hotel.) For the sake of humor, we shall call this time, "The Drunken Redneck Mass Exodus,"  and if you've ever left a Nascar race, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I won't describe the entire episode, but let's just say that I, very respectfully and politely, asked someone to roll down her window and communicate with me about allowing me to pull in front of her (the zipper effect, if I may). It didn't end as well as you'd think and I was honestly thanking God for child safety locks, because after being flipped off and berated for being a "stupid, [bleeping, female dog]," my older, male "papa bear" coworker was not very happy. He simply couldn't believe that someone would ...

I've always thought that Happy Hour was a negative thing. I used to describe it as "the time you spend after work erasing all of the negativity you feel about your job so that you can manage through another day tomorrow." A band-aid; not a cure. I still think there is a little truth in that. But the reality is that work does suck sometimes. Life sucks sometimes. And Happy Hour is exactly that - Happy. I like feeling happy and if taking an hour at the end of the day to enjoy the company of others who are suffering through the same BS helps, then that's not so bad, is it? Happy. For an hour. If that's what it takes. Then I think it's worth it. Sure, it's a bit of a trick. We go to the bar and we sit and have a drink with our friends and laugh. We discuss all of the things that make us upset and we joke about how things would be better if WE were running things. Sometimes we don't talk about work at all - just really enjoy the time and laugh. An...

I wish I could fast forward. 1 year. I wonder what will be different... and what will be the same. I'm trying to move on. I'm trying to create a new life, with new habits and new people. I'm trying to build new relationships and to move forward instead of looking back and wishing. I'm trying to make good, healthy, Christian decisions. Sometimes I fail. But I wonder, when I look back on this time, will I have regrets? Or will I appreciate it, like I have with all of the other negative or troublesome times in my life? Will I ever be able to accept the things I've said and done? They all brought me here. They all taught me something. They all helped me to grow. Self reflection is painful. Even more so when I know I've made mistakes that have hurt others. But self reflection is still important and necessary. I am not perfect and I have a lot of things on which to reflect. I mean, I could be one of those people who just says, "F it. I made a ...

After I had been on a few dates with husband #2, and it was evident that we might actually both be considering "something more," he provided me with a recent psychiatric evaluation. As you can imagine, getting a doctor approved mental health evaluation of your potential new life partner was like, solid gold! (For his sake, I feel I must tell you that the reason he even had access to said evaluation was because he had recently gone through a divorce and custody hearing - he's not a psycho who has regular evals done.) So, anyway, I was lucky. I was about to embark on a relationship journey and I had access to some wonderful information that would help me to decide whether or not it was even worth the "next date." Because I admit, during that time in my life I was using all sorts of other stalking techniques to weed out the goodies from the baddies. I was living in Maryland at the time and so I used  Maryland Judiciary Case Search  to weed out the weirdos w...

Dear Vance Joy, I would really appreciate it if you would stop writing songs about my life. I'm aware that I've given you, Adele, and everyone else in the music industry some good material. But seriously? It's become nearly impossible for me to turn on my own Pandora station without having to be reminded of the stories my life while I listen to you sing them with such sad and sorrowful words. I tried to switch to a Coldplay station, an X Ambassadors station, a Wye Oak station... same thing. Then I switched to a totally unrelated "Indy Dance Radio" station. This is when I started realizing that there was some kind of conspiracy happening. Have you all been sitting around, drinking coffee and watching me? Do you guys consult on the phone after reading my blog? Do you have access to my phone records and photos? My calendar? What is going on? But I feel guilty and pathetic about what you know and I feel like I should explain myself for a bit. So here goes - ...