Re-Post: I’m Moving!

Second and final repost of the week. Seems fitting to decide this one because I’m coming up on my 1 yr anniversary with the new role. What a ride. On the bright side, I’ve managed to keep old friends, make new ones, inherit a wingwoman of incredibleness, and not get fired! All good reasons for celebration! Enjoy! -Kel

Buildings. I’m moving buildings. But I have a great reason!

I guess the powers that be in a lovely organization with the ability to make or break one’s career opportunities finally came around to my brand of willpower. More drama. In other words, I got the job.

Donuts and fitness. You know the joke .

I’m leaving the command team to go supervise a gym. Again. Sure, this gym is a federal entity but beyond not having to sell memberships it really is the same as other gyms I’ve managed… if you count hundreds of uniform-clad people parading in and out on their quest to become powerlifters. I swear it’s not a prison. Nonetheless, this process to further my career and pay grade has taken over 2 1/2 years, but I’m thankful someone took a chance on me in the beginning. Fully realizing my leadership style is not for everyone, I do want to see our fitness centers succeed and grow. There will be growing pains. There will be some frustrations. But I’m nothing if not up for a challenge.

By the time I move positions, I should have just returned from my out of state trip which is still useful in my new position because resiliency is necessary everywhere. And I sincerely want to teach these concepts to my employees. Hopefully there will be some fitness expo trips in the near future to enhance my understanding.

Sure, there’s a lot on my plate right now but this has been a long time coming. Here we go again!

___________________

I ask you –

Do you want to take a donut tour in New Orleans with me?

What are my chances of being back in the gym and finding my running motivation again?

Tell me how full your plate is. Let me commiserate with you!

(The post I’m Moving! first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Re-Post: I’m Not That Mom

I’m a little overwhelmed from my return from beautiful Baltimore so please enjoy this repost until I have something new to share. Don’t be mistake – I have TONS of new material, I just don’t have a moment to put it in words just yet because I’m busy writing a paper that spans from 15-47 pages and includes tables with absolutely no direction, headings, or context. I promise to return to my regular funny self in approximately 7 calendar days. -Kel

…that creates elaborate birthday parties

…that can do more than two basic hairstyles

…that allows sleepovers outside of immediate family

…that has much patience with simple directions

…who is more focused on grades than kindness

…that believes in yelling or spanking

But I am that mom who –

…wakes up worrying

…over plans a weekend then accomplishes one thing

…enjoys watching my baby sleep beside me because I have no boundaries

…insists on the application of sunscreen

…prefers clothes to match

…can be overcome with laughter and forget to be mad

…asks for kisses and hugs

A polarizing topic, at best, is the way I was raised and the relationship, or lack thereof, I have with my own mother. As a parent, I know she was probably doing the best she could. But it has impacted our ability to relate and connect. As much as I love mini, I don’t believe we were ever designed to be best friends, as some parents refer to their children. I think the idea of being friends with your children is dangerous and potentially damaging due to expectations that will never be met. I’m her mom and that’s a big enough task, in my opinion. Friendships should be what she cultivates on her own, according to her own terms, and in different seasons in life. I want her to always be able to come to me with anything, yet not as a friend but as a woman who gives advice, hugs, and proper discipline.

The mom life is tough. I’m certainly not discounting dad life, grandparent life, parenting in general. Mini is never far from my mind – it’s hard raising a decent human being while attempting to set a good example because that attempt is often thwarted.

Especially when it comes to sleeping in her own bed.

________________

I ask you –

Are you a gentle parent or a structured one?

What type of childhood did you have?

Take a guess: what are the odds she’ll sleep in her own bed now that she’s seven? 1 in 7.

(The post I’m Not That Mom first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Where do we go from here?

Kel, it can’t always be everyone else. Sometimes…it’s you.

Remember when (probably last week) I mentioned it had been the 2nd time someone scraped their tire against the front panel of my car? Well, upon the 3rd incident, I decided to reexamine the situation. It was me. Turns out – pun intended – when I pull into the garage, I’m cutting the angle a little too close and touching the garage panel. Whoopsies.

Incident #2

Typically I don’t share a lot on here that’s incredibly vulnerable and personal. Mostly I try to keep it positive yet self-deprecating because that’s funny to me; however, lately, for whatever reason, I was considering things I regret from a generalized perspective. And, I believe my biggest regret is how I was not there for my best friend when she needed me most. We’d been through so much together yet I bailed when all she wanted was acceptance. And I bailed at a critically horrible time in her life, when she was dealing with a medical crisis. As far as regrets, that’s definitely the biggest, almost unforgivable one I can think of. Others might disagree. If there’s ever a time when I can say it can’t always be everyone else, that time … It was all me. Occasionally we reach out to each other but it will never be the same. I hurt her. In a matter of minutes, I lost every ounce of trust she had ever placed in me. Rebuilding it might take forever. There’s no funny ending to this piece of information and it’s sad still.

But what isn’t sad yet is still applicable to everyone is the year I’ve had so far. I don’t love recognition from a large, well lit stage. Really, I want my team to be recognized for their contributions to my success because I wouldn’t be here without them. So, I would say to them, it isn’t everyone else, it’s you. And all of the you’s make it worth it.

_______________

I ask you –

Have you ever thought something was happening to you that wasn’t your fault?

Any advice for regaining trust in a long-term friendship?

Tell me about your successes!

(The post Where do we go from here? first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Unearthly Expectations

As expected, my foots need expert, aka surgical, attention. You know – for all that technology has accomplished, how come there’s only a few options for feet? I did all the others. The surgeon was quite incredulous when I requested to have surgery on both feet simultaneously. But I persevered! Eventually, he came around to my way of thinking but it took some convincing. First, he says it’s dangerous when you can’t walk under your own power. Then, he says the pain may be too much. His final attempt at dissuading me was my mental health. Something about suffering from depression when unable to run.

I counteracted his every argument by saying I will sit at home and be a good patient; I have a high pain tolerance; and it makes more sense to have both feet done to allow me to complete my coursework at one time.

Then, when I visited my muse, her advice wasn’t quite what I wanted to hear but valuable nonetheless. She said, “Kel, you’re still Wonder Woman, but it’s an unearthly expectation to do all the things just because you can.” Granted, her words stopped me in my tracks and made me reconsider my decision. For a time. It’s difficult considering all the unknown variables, including being unable to play in the intramural volleyball league as originally planned. Now, I’ll just coach!

My wingwoman and I

So, all this to say my mind is pretty much made up. I may come to regret it but both feet is the way to go. Despite the circumstances and outliers, I know I can persevere. And I will.

Yet every time you make it through something that doesn’t kill you or land you in jail, there’s this overwhelming feeling of excitement and gratitude. I live for it.

___________________

I ask you –

Any big decisions on the horizon?

Could this be the dumbest decision I’ve made? It very well could be.

Tell me about your superpowers!

(The post Unearthly Expectations first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Day or Week or Maybe Month in Photos

Warning: language.

The 2nd time this has happened in as many months. I really need people to learn to park!

My wingwoman bought this for me in Copenhagen, Denmark. She said it instantly reminded her of me. She’s not wrong.

They gave me a paddle, of which I threatened to use on anyone within arm’s length! Seriously, though, it’s nice to be recognized.

Mini did some pumpkin patch things with her classmates. She even brought home a pumpkin! Now to convince her to carve it so I can have roasted pumpkin seeds.

_________________

I ask you –

Is there a particular phrase that resonates with your personality?

Do you like roasted pumpkin seeds?

Tell me what you have going on this month!

(The post Day or Week or Maybe Month in Photos first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Always the Dramatics

I knew that the short 7 day reprieve from coursework would fly by, so I gave myself something every day to look forward to, something just for me. Besides, what’s a moment compared to the avg 3 hrs/day I typically spend on schoolwork, right?

First day, I found this: “Half of the battle of anxiety is realizing when you’re entering the battle. This is mainly because our fears and insecurities feel so true. We tend to go along with whatever pops into our heads.”

Days 2-7 didn’t go according to plan. What did I do for myself these days? I survived because it never, ever, ever fails that my body ditches all common sense during a break and caves to sickness. Sure, it was just a head cold meets some seasonal allergies but I was convinced this might be the end. I didn’t even run for a few days! Then, the meds worked wonders and I was back at it.

Finally, on the newest episode of “Where Did These Bruises Come From?!”, twice-a-week volleyball is kicking my butt. And hands. And knees. Seriously, every time I shower I find a new discoloration and/or painful area. But is it worthwhile? Absolutely not. I mean … of course it is!

______________

I ask you –

Do you battle anxiety or anxious thoughts?

Have you been struggling with allergies, too?

On a scale of 1 to holy crap you need to chill out, tell me how dramatic you are! 12.

(The post Always the Dramatics first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Not Being Dramatic

Final grade: A-

Well, that’s done. The longest 8 weeks ever. What’s that saying about challenging things change you? Or something like that. I don’t feel changed, but I most certainly was challenged! Within an inch of my life and sanity. And to think I may have the same professor the next 8 weeks. I won’t make it. I found myself spouting some grandiose BS for a majority of the course, even some that was so convincing I believed me for a second. But only for a second.

But – I am pleased to report that I have made a friend! Just one. Let’s not get carried away. His name is Mike and we are now official pen pals, if you will. He’s also a part of the same doctoral program, hence the friendship. If you’ll recall, my best friend, Sam, was also attending Liberty and we were expecting to graduate at the same time. However, life happens and she’s on an extended break while she underpromises and overdelivers in her work life; seriously, she can do anything so unselfishly that I’m both proud of her and also frustrated because she refuses to ask for help.

So, at this time, she’s focused on other things, and although I have never felt the need to replace her, I was in dire need of an ally to commiserate with regarding the loneliness and frustration of the program. And then Mike came along! If you’ll recall, I reached out to several classmates for help early on and it took awhile before anyone got back to me. I was very disappointed. His background is much different than mine but he appears to have experience with grant funding, budgeting, and several other things I’m clueless about so hopefully the tiny network I’m building will prove valuable.

I barely squeaked by with my A avg intact. It was brutal.

__________

I ask you –

Have you ever felt like a determinate length of time is somehow longer than normal?

Do you over promise? Be truthful!

Tell me the lowest grade you ever received.

(The post Not Being Dramatic first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Out & Abouts

The truly funny part about the title of this post is that it’s significant in the military realm to indicate ensuring the base populace is not out doing nefarious things during the witching hours, aka being kids as kids will be. For me, it just means a week or so of constant activities.

Starting with Oktoberfest in Muenster! Mini had the time of her life with the help of a very popular aunt duo. I received about an hour of uninterrupted time to myself to peruse the wares and engage in a rather inappropriate but oh so funny conversation with a pre-mental health/post-correctional facility turned earring designer vendor. I saw his uterus and his boo-bies. Don’t ask.

It’s finally feeling fall-ish in North Texas so every chance to run is on my list. Thus far, I make it out about 3-4 days/wk. Heaven on earth. The 40s are encroaching – I can’t wait!

Finally, I stayed up late one night to facilitate the usage of my facility for something called Midnight Madness which really just looked more like a lot of amateur basketball players going hard for a few mins, then walking a lot. The real problem stemmed from my decision to accommodate this event while also conveniently forgetting I had another event the next day and would be suffering from a severe lack of sleep. This is how I take breaks! Which turned into an even longer night than anticipated when ego overtook common sense and involved the use of uniformed officers. Exactly what I needed at 1am.

With the addition of my wingwoman, we made it through a very long week. And witnessed the eclipse!

Wingwoman!

Indeed, the Women’s Conference was a welcomed reprieve from the movement of real life. I had an incredible day with incredible women of faith and love; and I got to spend quality time with my sweet niece who I’m still struggling to understand is now an adult. Love is watching the people you adore grow up and into themselves.

Rise Up!

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I ask you –

Have you partaken in an Oktoberfest?

Did you see the eclipse?

Tell me about your week!

(The post Out & Abouts first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Moving Along

“You’ve come a long way from that lonely girl who would walk the third floor hallway by herself.” – a third floor resident. Why, thank you, kind sir. I believe you are correct!

Photo credit: Sheppard AFB

Each year, I’m humbled to run the POW/MIA 5k and share the stories of my grandfather. He truly was the kindest, most gentle man with a larger-than-life smile. The only smiles I think are more adorable than his are his sister’s (my beautiful great Aunt Mary Catherine) and my little mini. It’s difficult to run solemnly because his memory makes me laugh so if I was offensive to anyone on the track who was quietly remembering their loved ones or the many strangers who never returned home, I hope they know I meant no harm.

We had an impromptu car photo shoot after getting coffee together. It’s rare I’m the one to take her to school but it makes us both happy when I can. The dirtiest glasses she owns. I couldn’t see a thing beyond the smudges!

At the time of this post, I’ll be mere days away from completion of another 8 week course and ready to embark on the next. But not before a well-deserved 7 day break. There are no words.

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I ask you –

Are you involved in an annual POW/MIA remembrance tradition?

If you wear glasses, how often do you clean them?

Insults designed as compliments. Big fan!

(The post Moving Along first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

More Than We Realize

Finally completed the necessary x-rays to start the long process of making decisions re: me feets. One foot, two foots.

If only running was simply a hobby, or something I occasionally do for fun it would make this process seemingly easier. Instead, running is a way of life. It’s my way of clearing my head, making sense of life’s messiness, of putting the anxiety into focus, of leaving “me” behind for a few miles. I don’t run just to run; I run because I need it. The few months post-race circa December 2021 when I couldn’t run, when I thought I may never run again – difficult doesn’t begin to describe how I felt. Admittedly, there were moments of sheer panic and depression considering how I would navigate life without running shoes. It’s not the shoes that make the runner, it’s the getting out the door, breathing in one last time, then pushing forward. It’s the arm swing, the sound and feel of my feet hitting the pavement, the eventual exhaustion that signals a good run. It’s so much more than the word “run”.

Surrounded by kindness

In other news, I have a tough time making the decision to meter myself, in running, life, conversations, everything. Occasionally I remember to ask permission prior to forgiveness but it’s not often. Also, it’s comical when someone thanks me for my patience. Because I am not patient. Not even a little bit. I put on a show but inside I am an anxious mess of restlessness. Zero patience. I demand efficiency in all aspects. Patient? Not this girl. But thank you for believing I am.

_________________________

I ask you –

What helps clear your head?

Do you consider yourself patient?

Tell me about a recent kind act in your life!

(The post More Than We Realize first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)