Climbing High

For the past two years, I’ve had a daily quest of climbing the stairs to my office on the 7th floor of the High Rise. Two years I’ve done this almost every day. This walk helps me start my day warm, both mentally and physically. Stairs seem unlovable, but I truly crave this daily hike.

When I found out I was pregnant, I made a few goals for the next nine months. One was to continue climbing the stairs to the 7th floor until there was just no way. My goal was to climb until labor. For me, this activity reassures me that I can still be active. Honestly, it reassures me that with every crazy, unexpected thing that happens to my body, I’m ok. I’m still me and my body is strong, not sick. Me and this little boy are just working hard.

When I fell last week, I was distressed for a number of reasons. It hurt like mad. It still hurts like mad. But it symbolized a lot of things for me. It made me feel weak, like my body was out of control. It made me feel that I’d never be able to do the things I love, like running or climbing the stairs or getting in and out of my car easily. And in this pregnant state, it made me believe that I’d never be able to do those things ever again in the whole world as long as I live (yup, I’m pregnant and I haven’t been for a run in two weeks. That’s what happens).

I am so excited for this baby – to put my best effort into being his mom and his dad’s wife. But I am also trying to remain me. I fell, and somehow I felt that I was lost.

Until today. I made a decision. I climbed the stairs, all of them. Slowly and painfully, but I did it. It felt amazing.

I felt like me.

Best Two Years

On Monday Tyler and I celebrated being married two years exactly. So awesome to look back and realize how happy those two years have been. I really didn’t expect it to be so great. I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t expect it to be this.

I went to a bridal shower last night and she was asked the same question I was two years ago, and gave nearly the same response. What are you most excited about about being married? She thinks the best part is being able to spend more time together and never having to say goodnight. I still think she's right. It really is one of the many "best parts."

I love Tyler because he’s the best friend anyone could have. He’s sensitive, he’s kind and he’s practical. He is willing to do anything to help. Last week he cooked every day because of my knee. Then he cleaned the floor. I’ve done the dishes a total of 10 times since we’ve been married. He’s that good.

He doesn’t like to see anyone sad. He’s absolutely hilarious. He’s a good, good person. I would rather be hanging out with him than doing anything else, pretty much always. Our kid is the luckiest child in the world to have him as a dad. And I’m the luckiest wife.

No Longer An "It"

I was so excited to go to the doctor Tuesday. So, so excited and nervous. So excited, distracted and nervous that I forgot how to walk a little bit. I walked out my office building, giddy, hit the first step just fine, then faltered. My arms were nowhere to be found (luckily – broken wrists for sure). My head was held high (another bonus). My stomach was safe (thank goodness). But my knees crushed to the pavement. Oh, how it hurt. My skirt flew over my head, my phone flew into the street. It was in a word – awesome.

I humbly righted myself and my attire. What a blessing nothing seemed broken. I picked up my phone with Tyler on the other end. I explained what had happened and walked hurriedly from the scene and the staring eyes of construction workers across the street. Then I looked down. Blood. Everywhere. Blood dripping on my boots, blood pooling down my legs into my socks. Blood on my skirt. Everywhere. I made it to the car two blocks away, stuck a few napkins on the situation and drove straight home where Tyler helped me clean up and grab about 19 band-aids.

Then we were off to a very important appointment.

And soon I forgot about the pain. Our baby is so real, so perfect and soooo BOY! The ultrasound tech started to giggle right off – she asked if we wanted to know what we were having, then said “he’s an exhibitionist.” And he pretty much was. His was folded in half with his legs clear up over his head, his arms tucked neatly, certainty of his gender completely in view. She commented on the baby’s “beautiful heart.” No cleft lip. No club feet. Everything. Is. Perfect.

He didn’t seem impacted from the fall and was only slightly active (I wish I could have an ultrasound at 8 p.m. - he goes crazy!). He even yawned a couple of times.


I don’t know anything about how to raise a boy, but I didn’t have too many ideas on raising a girl either, so we’ll learn as we go. But we are so totally stoked. Life is as it should be. Times like that make it worth it. Tyler sitting next to me, the kid in full view. Above my knees everything was right with the world.

Resolutions

I have one New Year’s resolution. Just one for this whole year. Give birth to a healthy baby in July. Hooray for life! A heartbeat. A hand wave. Who would have thought how remarkable and world-changing those little things can be. That has been our focus for the past three months, and will remain the goal. We are beyond happy. Beyond.

I wish I could say, however, that it’s been three months of bliss. I’m too aware that things can go wrong. My nurse says I’ve lost my innocence. This is our first child, but not my first go-round on the pregnancy train. The first was not meant to be. I have grasped one hundred times for a reason. All I’ve discovered is that sometimes the reasons come later. And sometimes they never come.

Needless to say, I’ve had pins and needles beneath me this time around. Every day has been greeted with mixed reviews. Success – we’re still sick! Somehow I’m sure that desire is normal. The constant seasickness is difficult. But it’s a sign that things continue. And for me, for now, my faith has needed an extra boost.I have begun an assent into better health, and our child continues to progress outside the 13 week zone of concern. My mindset remains hesitantly dang excited. Thank goodness for Tyler who never accepted that hesitation and is just pretty much looking forward to being a dad. He’ll be a really great one. That is for sure.

We can’t wait, yet we can. Sometimes it doesn’t seem real, but it is. It’s real. It’s happening.

Refreshing in Fall

Did you hear it? In the walls that creak, in the potatoes that boil, in the chill of sheets.

It turned fall.

Last week, 90 degrees and all, was lovely. Windows rolled down and the breeze through my hair, I casually asked Ty for his bet that it would be 90 on December 1. He bet me a million dollars to the negative. I’m quite certain he was surer than I. I’m also certain I’d like to know where he’s hiding the million.

All bets aside, I do love fall. The colors of red, orange, yellow, even deep purple. I was born in the fall. I hope I die on the last day of fall – to experience it one last time, but not the winter that it brings. Winter is not my thing.

I feel calm, even with the chilling rain. Thank goodness for fall.

I have been working on an inner peace lately. On a knowledge that I don’t need to know and definitely don’t need to understand everything. Or anything really. It’s been a little up and down, as I’ve always been the one with the questions of “why?” “how?” “when?” “who?” Since childhood, I have asked my fair share.

I’m learning only now that some questions have no answers. But you don’t have to know everything to be happy. In fact, if you did know everything there was to know, I have no doubt it would damage some of that sought-after bliss.

For me, I am determined to enjoy fall. Every unkown bit of it.

You Can and You Will

Know this, that you are brave. You are stronger than you think you are.

That hard things will happen, but hard things will not ruin you. You don’t have to be afraid.

These things – the things that are hard – You might feel for a brief, dramatic moment that your life is ruined. You might wonder for longer than a moment if you will ever be truly happy again. But things. Things will be ok.

I knew. I knew as I typed this that something was coming. Life was so perfect. I knew the happiness I was feeling was a great blessing to help with the rough road ahead. I didn’t understand fear or suspect it, right on the surface I just knew. It would happen.

The road is rough now. I asked, received, lost. Yet, my soul has never been more submissive. My faith is gaining traction, and I didn’t even realize it had been stagnant. My marriage has never been stronger, or my love for my husband more startlingly profound. My desire to be better has never been so acute.

Right now, I am fully aware that certain things matter and certain things just don’t. Life matters. Love matters. Soap scum and mile times do not.

And suddenly, I am dealing. So will you, when you must.

“Courage does not always roar. Sometimes it’s the quiet voice at the end of the day that says ‘I will try again tomorrow.’”

Increasing Stride

There’s a running analogy for pretty much everything in life, you know?


I was thinking about that the other day as my brother-in-law asked me how to increase his stride. He’s new to running, otherwise he would know that my stride’s not necessarily one to emulate. But I know HOW to increase stride and improve times, even if I don’t DO it.


For a better stride or time, you increase your speed or you increase your incline, or better yet, you do both.


There’s an exercise that sounds ridiculous but is actually valid called “fartleks.” I know, I know. You won’t forget the name so easily. Put simply, you begin your run at a normal pace, then pick a spot approximately 100 yards in front of you and sprint to it. Repeat throughout the run and do this one or more times a week and you’re bound to pick up the pace a bit.


Doing hills and doing them as fast as possible will have a nasty effect on your run enjoyment level (unless you’re awesome and it gives you a high – hats off to you), but will have a solid effect on your time and that pretty little stride you’re searching for. Really, it will. And my dad says it will grow hair on your chest. So far not true, thank goodness.


Back to life, isn’t it interesting how you grow in life often through the same techniques? Difficult times, trials of stress and trials of the uphill climb variety teach us who we are. They help us shake off the love handles, you could say, leaving us with a purer faith and a stronger character. They suck. Yes. But most often we’d keep them for the fact that afterwards we realize what we’ve overcome.