cards – Running on Fumes

Mini’s got jokes

When I tell you I thought the week leading up to 40 (not 50 as mini would have you believe) was difficult, even the word difficult doesn’t capture how trying it was.

I’d like to think I’m prepared for anything. But when a situation stops you dead in your tracks and you are forced to navigate your own emotions, moving away from those emotions is like falling without a parachute. Though I wouldn’t exactly know. Never could I be prepared for the adrenaline dump. It’s a moment like this I’m thankful for others who checked on me, who let me take a minute to breathe, who were gentle with me. Living should never be taken lightly. And asking the really really really hard questions is not for the faint of heart. My title isn’t free. It comes with a heavy cost and, although I’m living a career dream come true, the title is paid for in blood, sweat, and tears.

On a more lighthearted note, this cake makes the toughest days a little brighter.

Lemon blueberry cake, courtesy of Tanto

So do beautiful flowers –

Muse love

And the real reason for all the shenanigans –

Spare Parts and I

40!

She and I received so many messages, calls, texts, and a visit from her sweet grandbaby! Our families and friends made today extra special. If this is 40, I’m a big fan!

________________

I ask you –

Do you celebrate your birthday or is it just another day?

(The post Cheers to 40 Years first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

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.)