The Darkness

Recently, I suffered a loss.  The particulars, the details - they are of no import.  A loss is a loss, no matter the circumstances.  I will just say that my perception of something was very different than reality.  Due to the fact I chose to overlook what were probably obvious signs that my beliefs and hopes about what was were very far from the truth, what was likely right in front of my face but I refused to acknowledge, the loss was unexpected and unanticipated. Anticipated loss is one thing; unanticipated loss is quite another animal all together.  Although I thought I was done with him, Darkness came to visit me after this situation occurred. Well shit.  I really thought I had moved past Darkness and yet, here he was again, in full regalia.  This was a double gut punch – to not only suffer a loss, but to also discover that I had not rid myself of Darkness after all the work I had done on myself over the past year.  

For whatever reason, this bout of Darkness was overwhelming.  Perhaps it is because I truly allowed myself to feel the Darkness as I lacked the desire and energy to fight with him once again.  Perhaps it was because I was confused by my circumstances-there was only one way they made sense and I was refusing to, once again, accept the truth.  I’d like to think, however, that the reason this bout of Darkness was so crippling was because, deep down, I knew the only way around this suffering was to go through it or that there was more going on than I could comprehend.  Whatever the reason, Darkness took me to some very black places I had not visited in quite some time.  It’s hard for me to have the courage to share this, but I wrote about the Darkness, mostly to try to get Darkness out of my mind.  I understand this is dark and intense – I don’t have a muse when I am happy.  But I am sharing it because I do want to be open about how much I had let Darkness in. I warn you, you won’t feel happy after reading this.  You may even question if I am okay.  I will tell you, I am, indeed, okay.  Please understand this poem captures a moment in time – a moment that I truly and deeply felt, but it does not represent the end of this story. 

   

The Glass House – By Jill Alesch

Pieces of glass scattered all around, 

What once was a house has now been torn down.

A future, a dream, the hope that once shone,

Shuttered and shattered, I am all alone.  

 

The shards are many, the destruction is so intense,

Nothing can be mended, the trauma is too dense.

People say I’m strong, that I will rebuild again, 

They don’t know I’m too tired, the lights have all been dimmed.

 

Even if I did the house would still be made of glass,

Pretty on the outside, but never made to last.

My old friend Darkness arises from the pile, 

Looks at me and smiles, it has been a short while.

 

Yet he and I both know is he is never far away, 

He is always close, I can’t keep him at bay.

He reminds me that when I’m happy, he is always near,

Then invites me to his table and says, “Drink up, my dear.”

 

We have a nice chat, Darkness and I, 

I accept that I’m broken, it’s pointless to try.

There is no one who loves me like Darkness can, 

I acknowledge my fate, it’s who I am.  

 

Marred and battered to a point beyond grace,

When it comes to love, I deserve but a taste.

Like an intimate lover, Darkness wraps his arms around me, I give him my heart and throw away the key.  

 

I don’t know how it came to be or why,

But in the end, it is always just Darkness and I.  

I read and re-read this poem.  I kept reading it until one day, it didn’t make me cry.  And it was then, when it no longer hurt to read the words I had written, that I began to realize I was feeding the Darkness with some of my thoughts about and resentments over the situation.   Darkness wasn’t holding me, I was holding Darkness.  By doing this, I was only extending my suffering and grief.  By doing this, I had invited Darkness to stay because I was refusing to look at the underlying reason for Darkness’s visit.  I was so focused on how I had been wronged, or what I could have done differently, or why did this have to happen to me, or how could I have been so stupid as to not see what was really going on that I was completely ignoring the real reason Darkness had come to pay me a visit. And so he was going to stay until I was open to understanding why he had come with such force. 

   

Interestingly enough, it seems God and the Universe always give us what we need when we are ready to receive it.  Someone at work asked me how I was doing, and my eyes welled up with tears and spilled out onto my cheeks.  Although I was embarrassed by an extreme reaction to a rather simple question, especially while at work, this person who I don’t know very well at all, said to me something I will never forget.  “Jill, I don’t know what is going on, but you have to think of yourself like a tree.  If the roots are good, you can always cut and prune the branches and they grow back.  Sometimes branches are broken by things out of our control, but they always grow back if you mind the roots.  And, if they don’t grow back, it is for a reason, but the tree can still be beautiful.”   I thought about these words for a few days.  I knew my roots were good, so the branch that had been broken would either grow back or it wouldn’t, but one dead branch wouldn’t kill my tree or make it less beautiful.  It was then that I began to wonder if, perhaps, I had been looking at Darkness all wrong.  I began to consider the possibility that maybe Darkness had come because I needed to cut down some branches.  Perhaps Darkness would stay until I fully learned what he had come to reveal to me.  Maybe, just maybe, Darkness was not my enemy at all.  Maybe Darkness did love me like no one else could, but in a way I had not considered before.    

As I pondered this possibility, I began to look deeper into what Darkness may have wanted me to learn.  I concluded that Darkness was telling me it was time to trim my tree, cut down some branches and prune some others.  And then I saw this quote randomly on Instagram, “You will suffer until you become the best version of yourself,” and I knew I was on the right track.  It hasn’t been easy – this personal inventory of sorts.  I had to quit a part-time job I enjoyed and let people down when I did, but God and the Universe had given me several signs it was time to go, and I had not listened before now.  I stopped drinking as well, which was also not easy, but Darkness wanted me to trim down these branches with a clear mind so I didn’t cut off or trim the wrong branches-some of them – like my kids and extended family-are good and need to grow and flourish.  I recommitted myself to my own physical health.  I re-joined an organization and a way of life I left three years ago.  Darkness dissipated with each step I took in the right direction, and yet he was still lingering.  Darkness didn’t leave me until the day I decided to commit the next six months of my life to pruning my tree, taking it down to the damn roots if I needed to.  I had finally learned what Darkness was trying to tell me – that I needed to focus on me without any extraneous distractions.  Darkness and I agreed to revisit this item after six months minimum, but he also told me to be prepared for it to take longer.  Regardless of the time frame, I needed to take this time to tend to my tree and grow as a person.  Yes, I had done some of that over the last year, but Darkness has now told me I am not anywhere close to being finished.  Maybe, just maybe if I listen to Darkness, I won’t end up building another Glass House.  Perhaps, Darkness, as much as I hate the way I feel when he is near, is actually my best friend and mentor. 

I am hopeful Darkness will leave me alone while I am focusing only on myself and my kids.  I do know that eventually he will pay me another visit.  However, when he does, I am simply going to invite him in as a friend and ask him what he wants me to learn.   I am not going to argue with him or try to convince him I have been wronged.  I am not going to resist his cold embrace, but I am also not going to sit at his table for three weeks in self-pity.  When I sit at Darkness’s table, he will allow me to stay if I sit there.  I don’t think, as I once did, that Darkness invites me to his table – I think I invite myself.  I also no longer think Darkness actually wants me to sit at his table, but as long as I keep serving food and drink, he will permit the indulgence--not out of cruelty, as I once thought, but maybe out of the hardest kind of tough love. 

This morning, as I sat outside and enjoyed my morning coffee in solace, reflecting on my branches, I happened to notice a particular tree outside my backyard.  It was small-probably not even noticeable because it was surrounded by other beautiful flowering trees.  But this tree I had focused on, small as it may be, had lush pink flowers whereas the trees it stood amongst were all adorned with white flowers.  I reflected that right now, my tree looks injured and awkward.  Some of the branches are severed, some are cracked, and some need some pruning.  There are but a few flowers.  Yet, I know it won’t always be that way because of the lesson Darkness taught me.  Now, when I picture what my tree will look like six months or a year from now, I picture that small pink tree outside my backyard.  It may be small and still growing, but it is strong, beautiful, unique, well pruned, surrounded by other beautiful trees and not afraid to just be the tree that God and the Universe intended it to be. 

Side note:  I used to refer to myself as an asshole at least once in every blog-I thought it was funny, to be honest.  This is the first blog where I didn’t call myself an asshole.  When I call myself an asshole, I am sitting at Darkness’s table because I am actually not an asshole.  I am a deeply sensitive and loving person who has been hurt, so sometimes I hide behind a tough exterior but that does not make me an asshole.  I will no longer be using that term to refer to myself in these blogs.  This is also a branch I needed to cut down and I am not sure what will grow in its place, but perhaps it will be something kinder, gentler and more reflective of who I am as a human being.    

Second side note:  When I say cutting off branches, I do not mean I am going to cut people off (unless they are harming me in some way) or ghost them.  To date, I have only cut two people out of my life entirely and when I did, I didn’t ghost them because I think that is particularly cruel.  Rather, I told each of these people what I was doing and why.  For the most part, I won’t block people who have come into my life in some capacity because no matter what someone has done or what our history may be, I’d like to think I will always be there as a friend or someone that can be counted on when a person is need.  That is the kind of person I am and always want to be.  It is my greatest attribute and, maybe, also my worst, but it is how I would want to be treated-as a human being who deserves dignity and respect-not a commodity that can be easily discarded. 

One-Handed

My daughter, Adeline, got a gymnastics bar from Santa this year. I have written before about how she came into this world: rip roaring and practically doing flips on the delivery table. The girl is bouncy and full of energy.

Thus, it was no surprise that she loved her gymnastics bar that she received from Santa and was a natural on it. In only a couple of days, she was pulling herself up completely by hanging on it and pulling both of her feet up to the bar. Soon after, she started performing a more daring task – doing it with one hand.

One night as we watched a movie together, er I mean sat in the living room together because Adeline does not sit still enough to watch movies, Adeline was on her bar. She pulled up and did her one-handed hang trick and confidently shouted, “One hand! See! Only one hand!” My mouth literally opened and I almost told her something to make her stop or be quiet until I caught myself. My initial reaction was that she was rubbing it in to LJ, who I am not sure even 4 months later can perform this trick. I almost told her not to brag so as not to make LJ feel badly. BUT I stopped myself. At the time, I actually don’t know why I stopped myself. I just let her talk about her accomplishment of her one-handed trick.

It just so happens; motherhood is one big, long course in self-development. I’ve consistently written and posted about how I have learned and continue to learn so much from my children. This lesson from Adeline was HUGE for me. I am tired of girls and women playing down their accomplishments so as not to make anyone else feel inferior. I am tired of girls and women not shouting their accomplishments from the roof tops and rejoicing with each other. I am tired of girls and women thinking that if they talk about their wins and accomplishments that they are boastful and arrogant. I am tired of girls and women thinking they need to be humble and nice. (As an aside, boys and men also do this, but in my experience and as is backed by research, girls and women tend to do this more.)

Celebrating our wins and sharing our successes encourages others to rise up! The world is not limited to having only one person who can do a one-handed bar hang! When she celebrates her abilities and accomplishments, she inspires us all to do the same. When you let your light and your energy shine, you attract others to it. Please. Stop playing small to prevent others from feeling inferior. Take up room, be loud about your accomplishments and pull others up with you. Love.

A Love Letter to My Friends and to Friendship

I’ve wanted to write this blog post for a long time, but I’ve questioned what angle to use, and I’ve also struggled with finding the precise words to convey my sentiments. I’ve finally settled on primarily focusing on anecdotal experience per usual, for I do believe that praxis is the most useful way to demonstrate theory.

This blog post is a love letter to my friends, as well as to the concept of friendship in particular. One of the greatest thinkers in western civilization, Aristotle, wrote prolifically about friendships and the value they contribute to human life. For those of you who are not familiar with ancient philosophy, Aristotle lived in the 300’s BCE, so he was writing about the significance of this human relationship category already thousands of years ago. It has always been an integral relational dynamic.

To flourish as a human being, you need friends. Yes, I am going to make a universal
statement, and I am going to stand by it. In a culture that focuses on individualism and differences, some may consider such a broad proclamation brash or oppressive. And yet, there are some universal statements that do apply to all of humanity. For example, we all need water to live and oxygen to breathe. I’m not going to say how many friends one needs or anything as prescriptive as that, but I am convinced that human beings need friendship in order to thrive.

I am at a place in my life where I can’t tell you how much I value my friends. Let me give some recent examples:

1)    I was freaking out about something yesterday, and my friend Krystal popped into a private conference room at work to chat with me on the phone for 20 minutes to help calm me down. She interrupted her work day while at the office because I needed her. I’m so thankful that she recognized that I was spiraling, and she was willing to drop everything for me.

2)    My friend, Amy, turned 40 this past February. Consequently, our mutual friend, Ellyse, organized this incredibly thoughtful trip to Omaha where we honored her and made her feel special. Our third friend in the group, Lynsey, rented a freakin’ IGLOO for us to hang out in that weekend! We also dressed up in costume themes each day. I can’t tell you how privileged I am to belong to a friend group that is not only incredibly considerate of one another, but they also are confident and fun enough that they love dressing in costumes regularly.

3)    My anxiety has been a bit high lately, and like any responsible adult that teaches healthy coping skills in her professional life, I’ve handled it by drinking alcohol. A couple of weeks ago, I got freakin’ hammered at a Mexican restaurant. We’re talking stumbling, lacking-a-filter level drunk. My friend, Aundrea, stayed sober, and she put up with my annoying self. She took me to her house, and we played Mario Kart so I could sober up before I drove home.

4)  My friend, Kati, regularly makes extra food for dinner and will text me to come over and grab a plate. Sometimes I will stay and chat for awhile, and other times, I'll catch up briefly and then go home. It feels so warm and hospitable to receive the gift of food from someone and to know that they are thoughtful enough to share it with you.

5)    I did a “Clued Up” event with some gym friends this past Saturday. Some of the women that participated I am super close with, and others, I am at a more acquaintance level. And still- the older I get- the more I am CONVINCED that this “third level” or “acquaintance level” friendship is actually one of the most valuable and integral circles we need in our life (and it’s precisely what has been missing in the pandemic for many people…and it’s a gigantic separate-but-related diatribe I would LOVE to go on.) It was so fun to dress up with acquaintances and to do an event with them. Additionally, we had time after the event to grab drinks and get to know each other better, as well as to create some movement beyond acquaintance level. It was a delightful day.

I am so grateful to have this level of friendship in my life. These people (and some others not mentioned) are a layer of “family” in my life, and to be perfectly candid and controversial, I’m happy and confident in my decision to not social distance with them throughout the duration of the pandemic. I don’t think that I- or what makes me special as “Anne”- would have survived if I had social distanced from them. To anyone listed above, I love and adore you.

I implore people to find, cultivate, and nourish their friendships. We can’t survive this life – at least not very well- without them. I’ve written before about the danger of prioritizing the nuclear family HERE, and I want to reiterate that love should not be a hierarchy. The love we have for spouses, children, parents, siblings, friends- it’s all still LOVE- and all of the forms are special and powerful in their own unique way. For those that are married and/or have children as a part of the “traditional” nuclear family, I want to validate that this IS indeed a special kind of love, but that it is not necessarily a higher form. Isn’t that what makes love so powerful, anyhow? That it can exist in so many different ways and between so many different people? Difference does not indicate better or worse; rather, difference implies uniqueness, particularity, and exceptionalism. We NEED diverse forms of love so that we express different parts of our identity, and so that we are well-rounded in who supports us.

And- to be perfectly blunt- not only do we need friends for the aforementioned reasons, but also, the esteemed nuclear family is not always possible or sustainable. I had dinner with a friend this week, and he was telling me how he had always dreamed of marrying a college sweetheart. So, when he started dating someone his freshman year of college, he put the majority of his energy into that relationship. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have achieved this dream that he never bothered to make many friends during college OR seminary. And yet, despite his efforts, they ended up going through a divorce after 13 years of a fairly happy marriage. Life is complicated, and sometimes, love just isn’t enough. So, not only did he lose the very thing he sought to keep, but he had to endure it without the support of friends.  He missed out on the multiple benefits of friendship when he was with his wife, AND he missed out on friendship as he grieved this significant loss.

Here’s also what I’ll tell you from my experience of listening to people’s stories for a living: Life is hard. Life can be real fucking hard. It can also certainly be joyous, exhilarating, and peaceful. But, no one makes it out of this life without some real effin’ battle scars. If you haven’t experienced it already, some day, you will have an experience in life that brings you to your knees, and you will question everything you have previously thought about the structure of the universe. And you’ll be begging for something- anything- to hold on to for security and hope. Right now, I have 3 additional friends (on top of the one I just mentioned) who are going through the divorce process. I know a friend who is 35 years old who has been given a terminal diagnosis for breast cancer. I know a friend whose mother just died. I know a friend who is coming to terms with the news that she will never bear children. I know a friend who has been unemployed for over a year and was also rejected from further education opportunities. 

We absolutely need friends to survive the shit that life throws at us. I mean, we also need them for the peaceful and joyous times as well for they are a continual boost to our happiness, meaning, and expression- but my God, again, we really need them in the dark times. And for those of you that value empiricism, research continually demonstrates that support is the number one predictor of someone finding hope and meaning after experiencing distress.

People often joke about how difficult it is to find friends as you grow older in life. There’s this meme going around Christian circles about the “miracle” of Jesus having 12 close friends in his thirties. I understand this to some degree- it’s not like college where you are surrounded by people your age and you don’t have to worry about the responsibilities of adulthood- but, to be honest, I find this meme, well, sort of offensive. It IS possible to have good friends in your 30’s, and actually, the majority of my current close friends are people that I’ve met in the last 5 years or so.

I’m not saying it’s easy. Having friends takes significant time, energy, and intentionality in a world that already demands much of us. I often teach my bereaved clients about how to cultivate friendships, and I always compare it to dating. Because, other than the physical component, finding friends- and keeping them- IS similar to dating. And it means that you have to PUT YOURSELF OUT THERE, it means that you WILL be rejected, and it means you HAVE to nurture the relationship if you want it to endure. I can give you several examples of negative “friendship dating” stories that I’ve experienced. There was the time that I invited a gym acquaintance to a tumbling show, and she responded with, “Hmmm. Maybe!” and never followed up later. (Slightly passive aggressive rejection.) I have another friend that I hung out with a couple of times, and I thought that we would be close because we have a lot of common interests in sports. However, her incredibly abrasive and Type ‘A’ personality was NOT a good fit for me, and the friendship has since fizzled out. (Sometimes, common interest isn’t enough. What makes a good relationship is often ineffable!)

But again, just like dating, putting yourself out there can be incredibly rewarding. At the beginning of the pandemic, there was a woman that I kind of joked around with at aerial class. Well, as the pandemic wore on, many of my previous friends chose to continue to social distance from me (which, again, is their prerogative and choice! We all have different needs and contexts.) However, as I noted earlier, social distancing from friends was NOT sustainable for ME, and I needed more time with friends than what I had been receiving. It finally hit me that, well, I needed to find some new friends and to expand my social circle yet again because of the chasm the pandemic had created with some previous connections. So, I took the initiative to ask this woman to hang out, and we’ve been good friends ever since. We’ve done a tube float, pumpkin patch, Mario Kart, sledding, etc. since then. Actually, I’m referring to the friend in the third item numbered above, Aundrea- the one that put up with my tanked ass a couple of weeks ago. So, ya know. Friendship is so much like dating- you have to put yourself out there, and you have to understand that you will be rejected, and you will have poor matches. And that is “normal,” and “okay.” Just keep trying.

Friendship is like any other relationship- incredibly rewarding, and yet, it obviously requires work, and it does include its own set of challenges. You still have to set boundaries, clarify expectations, maintain humility, be open to both asking and receiving forgiveness, and discover compromise. I do have a lot of wonderful friends, but let me be clear, I've also effed up in my friendships, fallen short, and have had other people do the same to me. It's a part of being human.

But, as I hope this blog post made abundantly clear, all of those dynamics (that are present in all other relationships, nonetheless!) still make friendship incredibly WORTH it. It’s a gift and type of love that is incredibly unique, and as I maintained throughout this post, necessary for human thriving.

So, no matter how old you are or what phase of life you are experiencing, make sure you make time for finding and maintaining friendships. You need it, and they are more than worth it.

To all of my friends- those specifically listed in this blog and those not- I love you!!

 

 

Caterpillar Me

 
I stare in the mirror and I think about all of the hard work I’ve had to put in to get to this point in my life; hard work meaning emotional and physical, although you and I both know the emotional work is what’s actually the toughest. Every now and again I catch myself grabbing a bottle of wine when I want to cry or be angry, one time I walked all the way to the store just to turn around at the door because I recognized the tactic of numbing I had become so accustomed to the last nine years. They weren’t lying when they said, “For every loss there is a hidden gain. And for every gain there is a hidden loss.” I have wondered how I can simultaneously feel so incredibly full, all the while still feeling alone. I knew I was growing, as the places and people once so comfortable to me started to feel unfamiliar. Like a snake shedding its skin or a caterpillar attempting to break out of its cocoon. Cocoons- I imagine they are a very cozy place, yet also very dark and secluded. They keep you safe, but you also cannot experience anything but, that is, until you spread your wings to leave the confines of its walls when you’re good and ready to do so. Or maybe you're never really quite ready to the leave the confines of its walls, you just simply become too big and outgrow the place that was once so warm, sheltered and homelike, that you have no other choice than to break free and fly away, into the open air, feeling vulnerable and uncertain of the life to come.

Shit: The Final Chapter

  Hello!  Well, this is it!  Finally, the end to my three-part series on shit.  As the other two installments were quite lengthy, I will try to keep this final piece of shit short.  Just a quick recap, I was supposed to run my 10th marathon in the Bahamas as part of the Mountains to Marathons (M2M) Leadership Program.  The idea was to spend a weeklong leadership and self-development retreat in the Bahamas with the other participants in the program.  The retreat would culminate with each of us completing the Bahamas Marathon in January of 2021.  Unfortunately, or at least I thought unfortunately at the time, the Bahamas Marathon went all virtual sometime around late November because of Covid.  Jamin and Jen, the M2M coaches,tried to stay positive and reassured us that we could still create a beautiful retreat but I wasn’t so sure.  Although I had done a lot of work on myself and my attitude, I still had asshole tendencies that expressed themselves occasionally.  To be honest, I was extremely disappointed.  All of the marathons at that time were being cancelled.  How was I ever going to run my 10th marathon without a race being held?  I remember messaging another participant in the program, Melissa, and just venting about how pissed off I was. I honestly didn’t know if I would even continue the marathon training or the program at that point.  It is a big ask to train for a marathon over the holidays, and I was tempted to say fuck it.  

Jamin and Jen explored several options, however, at the end of the day, with travel being so dicey and all of the quarantine rules pre- and post-travel, the decision was made to have a virtual retreat over Zoom.  I have to admit I was angry at first.  Zoom?  Are you fucking kidding me?  How can anything meaningful happen over Zoom, I wondered.  I was sick of Zooming as I had been working from home since March of 2020.  I found it hard to focus and concentrate on Zoom and had been looking forward to meeting Jamin, Jen and the other participants in person.  And what would happen with the marathon?  Jamin and Jen told us the plan was that we would still all run the marathon on the day it was scheduled.  We would just be running it by ourselves, in our own remote locations.  Great, I thought.  I live in fucking Iowa.  I am sure most of you know how shitty the weather can be in Iowa in January.  I was frustrated and honestly did not think I had it in me to run 26.2 miles, in Iowa, in the frigid cold, by myself.  At any rate, I sort of put all that in the back of my mind, half or maybe more than half, believing it would never actually happen.   

Eventually, the first day of the virtual retreat arrived.  I remember on the first day, Jamin and Jen gave us this wonderful pep talk about how none of us were going to flake out on the marathon.  They said it much nicer than that, but that was the point.  We were supposed to report back with our race plans and send a picture of our race layout, which is basically a layout of everything you will need on race day.  Jamin and Jen talked about getting people out as support persons and setting up a Zoom link where friends or family could check in on your progress.  I still didn’t know if I had it in me to complete a one-person marathon so outside of Jamin, Jen and the other M2M participants, I literally told three people I was running a marathon by myself on Sunday, January 17, 2021.  One person lived out of town, the other person was traveling out of town and the final person was watching my kids during the five hours it would take me to complete the marathon.  Jamin and Jen were going to be keeping track of us on Zoom and checking in on us every hour.  My plan was to run around a two-mile lake trail 13.5 times with my water and fuel stored in my truck.  Every two miles, I would stop at my truck and drink water or refuel.  My back up plan was to straight treadmill that bitch but that was a last resort. But part of me still believed I might just do a half marathon or maybe not do it at all.  

In order to save time, I am not going to get into all the details of the retreat.  Suffice it to say, it was a powerful experience and I felt badly for thinking it would be a piece of shit over Zoom.  The overall theme of the retreat was examining what kind of life I wanted to create.  The second half of my life did not have to look like the first half.  That realization, in and of itself, was extremely impactful to me.  Prior to the M2M program, I had felt stuck, depressed and had little hope for the future because I was so focused on the failures and disappointments of the first half of my life.  However, with some of my old baggage resolved, I could envision a different future for the second half of my life.  Before I never let myself dream of the possibilities because I didn’t think they were possible for a person like me.  But now, well, I could vocalize how I wanted my life to look and believed it did not have to look the same.  It was during the retreat when it finally dawned on me why I could never get motivated to complete my 10th marathon.  I was carrying around too much baggage from the past and had lost hope in the future and faith in myself.  Jamin and Jen told me I had already ran my marathon before the actual marathon.  Thinking of what I had been through a lot over the past six months, running the marathon by myself during an Iowa winter didn’t seem so daunting.  I finally started to believe I might be able to run the marathon in spite of the less than ideal circumstances.    

On Marathon Day, I woke up to one of the most beautiful snows Iowa had this year.  The flakes were large and steady, blanketing the world in white as they clung to the trees and ground.  I was immediately pissed as hell.  Fuck the beauty, I thought, how the hell am I going to run in this shit?  I immediately called Jamin and just let him have an earful.  Jamin, always the epitome of calm, told me I needed to at least try to run it outside like I had wanted to.  I showed him a picture of what it looked like outside and he was not deterred.  He said I had to try to run the race how I envisioned doing it. I think Jamin knew if I didn’t get out there, I wasn’t going to do the marathon.  If I tried to run it on a treadmill, I would never start or if I started, I would stop well before I finished 26.2 miles.  I honestly don’t know why I did half the shit Jamin asked me to do over the past six months, but this was no different.  I waited until around 11:00 am for the temp to warm up a couple of measly degrees, put some plastic bags on my feet, said goodbye to my mom and kids and drove to the lake.  The trail had not been cleared off and it was still cold but I forced myself out of my truck and just started running.  After about six miles, I had had enough.  I honestly didn’t think I could keep going and I wasn’t even close to being halfway through.  How the hell was I going to do another 20.2 miles out in this shit?  Luckily, Jamin was available on Zoom and after listening to me bitch, told me there was no way I wasn’t finishing this marathon.  Once again without really knowing why, I listened to him and kept running.  I told myself I could finish a half marathon so I would run that far and see how I felt.  

I didn’t stop at exactly mile 13 because the trail was 2 miles around so at mile 14, I had a decision to make.  My feet were wet and numb but I had an extra pair of shoes and socks.  I was tempted to pack it up and go home.  I told myself I could switch to the treadmill but I knew in my heart I would not finish if I started to drive home.  I remembered Jamin and Jen saying I had already ran my marathon before the marathon.  Somehow, that inspired me to keep going.  I hadn’t come this far to just do a half.  Besides, by this time the snow had stopped, the trail had been cleared and I was already one mile over a half marathon.  So I changed my shoes and socks, rubbed my feet until they weren’t numb and got back out there.  I don’t know how to explain what happens when you get in a zone when you are running, but somehow miles 14-20 flew by even though I was just plodding along.  I just told myself do one more time around the lake (two more miles).  Then, I would stop at my truck, drink water and tell myself to do one more lap.  Six point two miles left, or about three more times around the lake.  Although it was going to be another hour or so of running, I knew I could not turn back.  I had to finish.    

At mile 26,  Jamin and a few others virtually “ran” with me the last two tenths of a  mile.  When it was over, they cheered and I thanked them, then got back in my truck, let the three people I had told know I had finished and drove home.  There was no after party, no medal, and no beer.  And yet, it was the best I had ever felt after running a marathon.  My time sucked due to all the stopping I had to do but I didn’t care.  I honestly think it was my favorite marathon – even more so than the Disneyworld Marathon-because I overcame a lot of self-doubt and adversity.  It was truly unlike any other marathon I had ever run.  I’m not trying to be dramatic or anything but I had no idea I could run that far by myself.  I was afraid I would fail, which was part of the reason I hadn’t told anyone about it.  Yet, I really felt like running that thing all by myself was a necessary and critical part of my journey with the M2M program. There was a final lesson I needed to learn and it was about fear.  You see, as I was running, I kept thinking of some Eleanor Roosevelt quote that I vaguely recalled – something about “you must do the thing you think you cannot do.”  After the marathon I looked up the entire quote and it goes like this:  “You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face.  You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror.  I can take the next thing that comes along.’  You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”   I think it is a profound statement on fear and not letting it rule your life or your actions.  Everyone is afraid of something.  It is what we do with that fear that defines us.  I was afraid to look at my past and deal with my failures and grief.  I was afraid to envision a better life for myself because I didn’t think it was possible.  I was afraid to try to run a marathon by myself because I might fail.  And yet, here’s the thing - fear kills more dreams than failure ever will.  The fears you don’t face become your self-imposed and self-chosen limits.  I still have my shit.  We all have some.  I’m still afraid of getting hurt, I’m still afraid of failing, and I am still afraid of the future.  The difference is that I feel like I can face these fears instead of fighting with them.  Fighting your fears is an endless battle, facing your fears is what leads to freedom.  

I am thankful for the M2M program.  I do not regret for one second spending the money in retrospect.  While I was in Cape Cod debating whether to do the program, Jamin told me I couldn’t even begin to imagine what my life would look like after completing the program.  To be honest, it still looks a lot the same, but the difference is that the person living it regained something she had lost – hope—and one can’t really put a price on that.  And that’s it.  That’s the end of this shit.  Thank you to Jamin and Jen, thank you to the other participants in the M2M program, thank you to the three people (you know who you are) that I trusted enough to tell about the marathon, thank you to the people that I didn’t trust enough but will next time, and thank you to you all for reading about this journey I went on.  As Jamin would say, Big Love to each and every one of you.  Oh, and the Bahamas Marathon sent me a medal and the shirt for completing the virtual marathon so in the end, I did get my 10thmarathon medal, which is pictured below.  And, as a courtesy, all registered participants for the 2021 Bahamans marathon were automatically transferred to the 2022 Bahamas Marathon.  So who knows.  Maybe I have one more in me :)  

Shit-Part II

SHIT Part II

Welcome to SHIT Part II.  I think Part II is going to be harder to write than Part I because here is where we are going to really get into some shit.  If you recall, we left off in SHIT Part I with me reluctantly agreeing to participate in a six-month program called Mountains to Marathons (M2M) after speaking with Jamin, one of the coaches while in Cape Cod on vacation.  Looking back at pictures of myself in Cape Cod, I can tell I wasn’t feeling well.  It’s funny to me how a picture can capture nuances like that.  Maybe the difference isn’t noticeable to anyone but me but the picture I have attached to this blog is one of the photos where I can tell something was off internally.  I feel like the emptiness in my eyes is palpable. 

Anyway, after faking it through the last few days of vacation in Cape Cod, I returned to Iowa  feeling even shittier because I had failed at vacationing.  What kind of individual could not enjoy themselves on the Cape?  I felt like a total zero.  Being at home, however, was somewhat worse than being at the Cape.  At the Cape, at least I had distractions-it’s hard not to when you have 13 people living in the same house for a week.  But back in Iowa, it was just the kids and me.  I still woke up a lot of mornings and thought, “Fuck me, I have to do this shit all over again.”  I also was experiencing massive buyer’s remorse about the M2M program.  I felt guilty for spending money on myself and essentially signing up to take a vacation to the Bahamas without my kids.  I really fucking hate to admit this because it is hard to do, but I also felt immense sadness because I felt like I had no one authentic to take to the Bahamas with me. I don’t know why but admitting loneliness is hard for me to say out loud.  Admitting the presence of this emotion causes some shame and guilt over who I am and the choices I have made that got me to the point of being lonely.  I pictured everyone else in the program showing up with significant others, having romantic dinners in the Bahamas, and taking walks along the beach.  Meanwhile, I pictured myself alone, ending up at some oceanside bar with a bunch of fucking randos.  I really didn’t feel up to being in this imaginary position.  However, the M2M program was starting in 3 days so I didn’t have much time to reconsider my decision.  

After my first call with Jamin and Jen, I was immediately overwhelmed with everything that was going on.  There was homework, weekly individual sessions with Jamin and Jen, team sessions with the other participants, nutrition and running coaching sessions, all on top of training to run a marathon which is quite time consuming in and of itself.  I began to wish I had paid more attention to what Jamin had said about the program.  I was still hyper-focused on just the marathon training piece and hadn’t completely bought into the leadership bit just yet.  Quite frankly, the other stuff sounded like a lot of work, and I didn’t want to make time for it.  I remember thinking to myself, “Well, I am just going to have to half ass this shit.”  I would come to find out, however, that this was not the kind of program one could half ass. So here is where I have to start to summarizing things because otherwise this blog will last until SHIT Part XV.  So my reality when I started the program is a bit embarrassing. I was working too much, eating like trash, staying up too late, hanging out with people who did not have my best interest in mind, and not working out.  I mean, as I write that it is no wonder I felt like shit, but I had started doing all of these things to try to feel better.  It is an oddity of the human experience that we seek out quick relief when we are feeling bad through, for example, alcohol or food or nicotine, and yet in the long term, these vices only contribute to and exacerbate the sea of problems one might be swimming in. I had fallen prey to this vicious cycle without really realizing it.  Jamin, being all Jamin-esque proclaimed that the M2M program would help me stop doing these things.  “Well,” I remember thinking.  “That was fucking bold.”  What Jamin did not know was that I wasn’t interested in completely revamping my lifestyle at the time.  I literally just wanted to run a fucking marathon.    

The other reality I had to admit in some of my very early sessions was that I had essentially numbed myself to most emotions.  The reason I was so closed off was that I did not want to remember or feel certain things.  I was afraid that once I started feeling difficult emotions, they would never cease.  So instead of feeling them, I put them away in a trunk and just kept keeping on keeping on.  Jill got hurt?  Fuck it, put it in the trunk and move on like it didn’t matter.  Something bad happened to Jill?  Also went straight into the trunk.  I had little capacity for joy or happiness because all my energy was focused on keeping the trunk shut.  I am not quite sure how to explain what happened next.  But basically, Jamin and Jen helped me look inside that trunk.  Oh my, it was nasty business.  Pain, betrayal, fear, shame, guilt, hurt, sadness, and well, just overall wretchedness engulfed and overwhelmed me.  It was not what I would call a fun time.  How I longed to just be numb again instead all this other bullshit.  All I wanted to do was a run marathon and now all this other shit was going on.  There were times I was mad I signed up for the program.  There were times I wanted to quit.  Jamin and Jen told me to just keep showing up and trusting in the process.  So what did this self-proclaimed asshole do?  I cried-well, wept really, for the first time in a long time. Doesn’t sound so bad, right?  I mean everyone cries sometimes, and I was overdue.  The problem was that I just kept crying, sobbing really.  I woke up crying, I went to bed crying.  I would be with my kids, start bawling and have to explain that mom was just sad right now.  I was grieving shit from my childhood, shit from being mistreated in the military, shit from my deployment, shit from my marriage, shit from my divorce, and shit from other personal relationships where I had been hurt. It wasn’t like I was having a pity party; I can’t really explain it.  I mean I didn’t feel bad for myself or anything like that, I was just, well, really fucking hurt and really fucking sad.  And so I just kept crying.  

At some point, I became scared that I would be stuck in this chasm of grief permanently.  Jamin and Jen assured me there was a bottom but I wasn’t so sure.  It seemed to be a never-ending well of sadness.  I don’t think everyone who completes the program cries as much as I did- so I don’t want anyone to be freaked out by that- but this is how mine went because (1) I’m a sensitive fuck, believe it or not and (2) the level of, well Jamin and Jen call it trauma, but I don’t like to think of it like that so I’ll just say shit, I had been through.  And then, after a bit, I woke up one day and I didn’t feel like crying.  In fact, I felt pretty good and a bit at peace.  The next day, I was back to crying.  It was like that for a bit, up and down, but eventually I began to string together more and more good days.  I remember a friend I had not heard from in a while texted me and asked how I was doing and I replied that I was so happy because it had been over a week since I cried.  Not having the full story, my friend was a little appalled that I was considering that a victory, but it truly was.  Eventually I began to cry less and less.  The well was actually drying up.  Now when I thought about certain events, I felt at peace.  I didn’t like that they happened, but I could accept that they had.  One morning, I was with my daughter and I actually found myself having fun with her.  I was not faking it, forcing it, doing it because I had to in order to be a good mom, or going through the motions as I had been in the past.  I was really and truly enjoying myself and we both were genuinely giggling.  I think I will always remember this moment because I was fully present and didn’t have any anxiety distracting me.  That’s when I knew I had turned a corner.  

What was the difference from counseling you wonder? I don’t want anyone to take this as in I don’t think counseling is appropriate and beneficial.  I absolutely believe it is imperative and helpful.  It is good to talk about one’s problems and get a different perspective or viewpoint.  We often have myopia when it comes to ourselves and counseling can help expose that.  However, for me, I felt like counseling never really gave me closure.  This was probably mostly my fault, as I think I just wasn’t completely ready or in the right place.  With counseling, I would talk about my issues but then when the hour was up, I would carefully pack up my emotions and put them back in my trunk.  I never learned how to get my issues and emotions out of the trunk for good.  This is where the M2M program was different, for me at least.  There is a lot more to the program than this but in general, I had to write all of the details down about the disturbing or painful event or situation.  Writing things is easier for me than saying them.  I can pound away on the keyboard and just put my thoughts down, raw and uncensored.  In contrast, with counseling, most of the time, because it was face to face, I dressed things up a bit.  For example, I would say I was “angry” or “frustrated” about something when what I really wanted to say was I so fucking pissed I wanted to throw a coffee cup against the wall.  True story, I told that to a counselor once and she looked shocked and then backed her chair up like she was afraid of me.  So, I learned to censor myself a bit or leave certain things out when talking face to face with a counselor. But writing something I thought only I would ever see allowed me to really let loose.  The F-bomb was littered throughout these gems – they were not literary works of genius.  I hope no one ever finds these rants, which reminds me I need to delete them off my computer, but I digress.   So when I was all done writing, I thought, “Great, I got it all out, mission accomplished.”  Wrong.  I then had to read it out loud to Jamin and Jen.  Reading it out loud was the part I hated the mostbecause most of the time, while reading it, guess what?  Yep, I cried.  Plus, I hadn’t told anyone about some of these things or how I truly felt about certain situations and that was intimidating.  I thought it would be too much for Jamin and Jen to handle but they never once made me feel anything but acceptance.  Then, sometimes, Jamin or Jen would then read it back to me.  Oh, to hear sweet Jen say the F-word a million times was truly something.  But, uncomfortable as it might have been, reading it and hearing it helped somehow.  The last part was I had to take action to clear the situation or close it out.  And this-this was the place counseling never got me to.  A place where I felt some closure or some peace.  A place where I didn’t just put everything back in the trunk.  

Once I had gone through this process, I was able to see I wasn’t just some actor stuck in a shit play being directed by someone else.  I realized I was empowered to be a leader in my own life and relationships.  I could leave the practice of law (a career I have never really enjoyed).  I could own a restaurant if I wanted to.  I could move out of Iowa if I wanted to.  I finally understood what Jamin and Jen were talking about when they used the term “leadership.”  It wasn’t the hokey Army leadership bullshit.  It was about being the leader of your own life.  I know I probably lost some of you here because it does sound a little hippy dippy.  But, here is the remarkable thing that happened after six months.  I was eating better.  I was sleeping more.  I no longer had to take a sleeping pill to fall asleep.  I was doing the marathon training.  I was working less.  I had stopped hanging around the wrong kind of people.  I was taking a new class.  I had more energy.  I was a better mom.  The funny thing is that I didn’t have to consciously try to achieve these results.  It wasn’t like I ever said “I am going to try to not take my sleeping pill.”  It just organically happened.  Jamin and Jen always told me if I stuck with the program for six-months I would experience a transformation.  I really thought these two were just trying to market some bullshit pipe dream and honestly, until the final days of the program, I myself did not fully realize what had happened.  But once I started thinking about how my life had changed, in my reluctant, non-excited, excited Jill sort of way, I kind of began to accept a transformation had occurred although I still don’t like that word.  I’d rather just say I changed some shit up.  Don’t get me wrong, things are by no means perfect.  I’m 42 and divorced with two young kids.  I don’t love my job.  My close friends live out of town.  I’m still afraid of getting hurt which makes it hard for me to get to know people. This is not a life anyone dreams of or seeks out.  But I’d like to think I’m at least getting my shit together, not using the trunk as much and creating a better future for the second half of my life.             

So you may have noticed I have not mentioned the marathon much or the Bahamas and you might be wondering what happened with that.  Did I spend every night on the beach alone?  Did I end up with the randos at the bar?  I guess this means there will be a SHIT Part III.  And then I promise to be done with this series of shit.