Running

This was something I wrote back in 2008. I have begun getting more consistent with my running and thought I would repost this to remind me of how I got started running.



A long time ago before I had children I did some volunteer work at a half-way house for homeless people. They were taught money management and trained for a job. I had children, moved, and life got busy.

Now, fast forward to a about a month or so ago. Liz and I were discussing how she likes to run. I suggested we find a race of some sort to participate in to motivate us.

Stay with me here. A couple of weeks ago our ladies group at church was having a movie night. I haven't attended a ladies meeting in probably 10 or more years but for some reason I felt strongly compelled to go. Well, the movie was called, "Welcome to Paradise", and part of the story line was befriending the homeless.

Last week the girls and I went to a concert. After the concert we were approached by a homeless man. I had no money to offer him but I always pack an ice chest with fruit and snacks after a concert because we are usually very hungry (and too cheap to buy food at the concert!). Anyway, I gave him a plate of food.

I began thinking that maybe God was telling me something. Kinda giving me a direction on where He may be taking me. Well, when we got home I googled homeless here in my county. I didn't know what to do with the results so I prayed and told God if he wanted me to do something for the homeless He was going to have to show me.

So, the other day I had to go to Home Depot. On the way home there was a HUGE banner in a church yard: www.runforshelter.org. I checked it out and it is a 5K run/walk for the homeless in my county.

So, I am in training. I have been exercising already for quite a long time, but now am kicking it up to start running. Liz is joining me. Jessica is going to walk. The run/walk is November 15th.

For any of you believers, we would appreciate your prayers in this new challenge. We are very excited!!!


So, now it is August 2011. Once again, I am planning to run the 5K Run For Shelter in November. I even have a few friends who are joining me in the run. How cool is that?!

Coco

In early 2004, we met a lady in a Kroger parking lot where she gave us a little brown and tan Chihuahua. She told us she was his second owner and that he was only about a year old. He jumped in our van and immediately seemed to feel comfortable with us. When the lady drove off, he watched her until he could no longer see her. Then he turned back to us as if he knew he had been left again.

This little boy was Coco.  The lady left him outside all day, his little ears were fly-bitten, he was not neutered, nor was he house broken. We took him to the vet to have him checked out. The vet said Coco was closer to four years old. We had him brought up to date on his shots, got his teeth cleaned and had him neutered.

We weren’t really looking for a dog, but we had recently encountered several Chihuahuas and Liz wanted a dog that was more her size. We already had a beagle mix, Emma, that was quite a handful. We also had a cat named Toby. This lady advertised on an email loop that she was giving a Chihuahua away. I thought it would be great for Liz. Coco, however, attached himself to me. I tried to ignore him, but he knew I was Mama. Wherever I was, there he would be. His favorite place was under a blanket usually on the couch. We sat on him a few times until it finally became a habit to poke around on the blankets before sitting down.

Coco and Emma became fast friends. They would chase each other around and around the recliner. Emma would chase Coco as he bounced from couch to couch. I swear they were both grinning the whole time! Whenever the two of them would go outside, they would do what we termed, “bullet run”. That is where they tuck their tails and run extremely fast all over the yard. Sometimes, when Coco ran, he bounded just like a deer.

Not only did Coco play with Emma, he and Toby played, too. Toby eventually became much larger than Coco and played too rough for him. Coco, Emma, and Toby would all three curl up together on the couch and sleep. I have pictures somewhere. We lost Emma in a tragic accident in the back yard in August of 2005. Coco was witness to this. For several weeks he looked and looked for Emma, going in and out the back door. He eventually resigned to the fact that she was gone.

Coco was not a typical Chihuahua. He was very loving and affectionate to almost everyone. There were a couple of people he didn’t like, but most people who met him commented on what a sweet boy he was. Sometimes we would take him to the park and people would smile down at him as we passed. Children would ask to pet him which he graciously obliged. 

Even though he was little, he was big on the inside. Liz took horseback riding lessons for a while. We took both Coco and Emma to the barn one day. Emma hid behind my legs because a goat came up. Coco stood next to a Clydesdale horse and barked furiously. He wasn’t afraid of anything.

In October 2009, Coco had a pain in his side so we took him to the vet. They immediately sent us over to the University of Georgia in Athens (UGA). He underwent many, many tests yet they could not figure out what was wrong with him. His blood count was at 9. It should have been at 35 or higher. They told us they couldn’t understand why he didn’t even look or act sick. Over the next couple of months Coco stayed at UGA several different times. He received at least two blood transfusions. I was told that he very seldom stayed in his crate because they had all fallen in love with him and fought over who got to hold him. We finally ended up with a vague diagnosis of an autoimmune disease. No one expected him to live very long. Up until the last month or so, he was still eating great, playing, and trying to hump on our 75-pound dog. 

During the last couple of months, he lost weight, slowed down his eating, no longer played. However, he still attempted showing his dominance over the 75-pound Chloe. Ever the male, Coco. When it got to the point that we carried him up and down the stairs, I knew I was going to have to make a decision. I prayed that he would just go to sleep. When I told that to my vet, he said that with this disease that he would just hang on and wither away but not die. He assured me that euthanasia would be a gift to Coco. So we made the appointment. That was one of the hardest moments of my life watching the life go out of his eyes and his body go limp. My little Coco-boy. My shadow.

Coco has been gone a week now. I still have to stop myself from getting a treat for him to go to his bed at night. I still hesitate at the door for him to follow me in. I still expect to see him on the couch right next to my desk. I still hear the ticking noise of his always too long claws tapping on the floor. When I come home from work, I still look for his sweet little face happy to see me.

I know he is in a better place now. I know that in time, the pain and emptiness will subside. I have visions in my head of Emma meeting Coco and now they are both running and playing and grinning from ear to ear.

You were a good dog, Coco. A very good boy.

Basements, Spiders, and Depression

Have you ever started looking for one thing, but find something else? I was looking for some notebook tabs the other day when I came across what you are about to read. It was something I wrote over 13 years ago. I had attended a women’s retreat with the ladies from my church where depression seemed to be the prevalent issue that weekend. Later, the ladies’ ministry had a year-end dinner and several of us were asked to share. Speaking in front of people is not my thing; however, I said yes.

Then, I panicked because I had no idea what to share. I truly believe what happened to me was given to me by God. After the incident in this story, I told God I knew he was trying to teach me something and to please show me. I lay on the floor under the emergency light and wrote this. When I wrote the last sentence, the power came back on. So, when I “discovered” this again, I thought maybe someone needed to hear it…even if it is just me. Here it is:

When Karen asked me to share what God has been doing in my life, at first I thought, “What on earth would I say?!” Then, the more I prayed and thought about it, I began to wonder how much time could I take? There are so many areas in my life that God is working on, it was hard to decide. But, I kept thinking about the ladies’ retreat and how so many shared their struggle with depression. This is a battle I, too, have fought. I have had people ask me how I deal with depression. I have always given the standard answer of diet and exercise. You know---no caffeine, no chocolate, no sugar, and, of course, exercise. This is a good answer even though I don’t do the exercise thing!

A good answer, but not the complete answer. Diet and exercise are very important—but the most critical factor in fighting the depression has been (and is) my relationship with God! I do find, though, that at my lowest points that I don’t WANT to pick up the Bible and read it. I don’t want to get on my knees and pray. Actually, what I REALLY want is a Hershey bar and the remote control! 

The Lord gave me something, an experience, to share with you tonight:

The other night when one of those heavy thunderstorms rolled through, I heard my husband tell his mom (on the phone) that he was going to get the umbrella and go check on something he had been working on out back. Well, just as he went out, I heard the lightening hit something close. The ones that go flash-crack-boom! Envisioning him standing in the back yard with smoke coming out of his now curled hair, I went running downstairs, into the garage, down into the basement and over to the back door that opens to the back yard. Nothing out there but rain!

So, while I’m standing at the back door, frantically trying to see my husband through the torrential rain, the power went out! (Now, I am not a big fan of the dark---I like night lights, thank you very much!) There I was, pitch black darkness all around; so thick you could feel it!

Okay, I have a 6-year old and a 3-year old that I was just positive the storm has woke them up and they are all the way upstairs crying for mom. And, being a mom, I knew I had to get up there fast! There is just one problem: I can’t see my hand in front of me, much less to go all the way across an extremely crowded basement and then up about 20 steps. BUT, my girls needed me so I had to try!

So, here I am, stumbling around in the dark, trying on my own with no light to climb up out of this basement. I start praying, “Lord, give me some light! Lord, give me some light!” My hand touches a pole---good! Halfway there! Then, I try to go around the pole but there is a stack of boxes on one side and stuff on the other. Well, great! If I keep going like this, I will end up in the corner with SPIDERS! Yuck! “Lord, give me some light!”

Okay, I’ll just go back to where I started but it is so dark I can’t find the back door---“Lord, give me some light!” Just then, I see a flash of distant lightening and I make it to the back door. There, in the still very heavy downpour, stands my husband. Not with an umbrella, but with a powerful flashlight. He shines the light across the basement as I race up to check on my girls---who, of course, were still sound asleep.

After a few moments to calm down, I asked the Lord to show me something in this experience. And he did: Depression can be a lot like being down in that very dark basement. Try as I can, I can not find the stairs to go up. I stumble around, get lost, and sometimes even run into those spiders. But, you know what God showed me? The LORD is my Light and my Salvation!

So now, when I’m in that basement and it’s so dark I can not find my way out---I pray, “Lord, give me some light!” And you know what He does? He gives me His Son!

Back to now. It has been 13 years since I wrote this. Much in my life has changed. I am single and my girls are now 19 & 16. I have incorporated exercise a little more into my life. However, I still struggle occasionally with depression. My lows aren’t as low as they used to be, nor do they last as long. I have discovered that when depression, frustration, and disappointment settle in, it is usually when I take my focus off the Light.

Melancholy Autumn

I love Autumn. I enjoy the cool, crisp mornings. I am in awe of the leaves as they change from green to the deep reds and golden yellows. The sun casts a softer glow. I can feel the anticipation of the holiday festivities of Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. I also feel….melancholy.

The melancholy usually starts about the middle of September. It is very subtle at first. I can feel the slight change in the air and in the shift of light from the sun. I feel a slight change and shift in my being. I am not sure how to explain this. Sometimes it is just a sad, melancholy mood. Sometimes it is almost a panic as the year comes to an end.

Maybe, somewhere inside, as the season changes and as the year comes to an end, it brings awareness of just how quickly time is going by and I cannot stop it. I realize my age and wonder what I have done with all those years.

I had a friend tell me about Seasonal Affective Disorder, (SAD). I am pretty sure that is what I experience. It is a type of depression that people go through with season or weather changes. Some people feel it through the winter; some through the summer. Some people even sense a difference depending on whether it is sunny or raining. I definitely feel the rain.

I have another friend who says that she hibernates in the winter. She does not like to go out of the house. I am guessing she experiences SAD, too. It can be mild, or it can be severe. Now that I know what it is, it helps me to deal with it better, but does not take it away. I do not beat myself up anymore when I have days that I just have to sleep. I know it will pass when Spring comes. I have also learned not to commit myself to many activities during the fall and winter. This is difficult because of the holidays when everyone seems to get busier, I withdraw!

There are ways to treat SAD. For me, I just slow down. I am more introspective. I do, however, try to keep my mind occupied; stimulated with books or something so that I don’t wallow in the darkness in my head. I try to exercise and cut back on sweets. (Actually, I try to do that all year.) I allow myself to have the “down” days and don’t waste energy trying to figure out what is wrong. I used to think it was the circumstances around me or the people or whatever. Trying to lay blame somewhere until I realized it is just how I am wired.

I have also learned that I should not make any major life changing decisions from about November through mid-April. My kids will tell you that around March I am pretty much a basket case and usually end up cutting my hair short. If I just hold off till Spring is in full bloom, life is much better and my hair stays in place!

Some of you reading this will understand completely. Some of you experience this same melancholy or know people who do. Some of you have no idea.

This is not something I can just shake off or pull myself up out of. It just is. And that is okay.

HIKING AND STRENGTHS

Yesterday I had the pleasure of spending the day with my two children, Jessica and Liz, hiking on Blood Mountain at Vogel State Park in northern Georgia. It is about an hour and a half drive there from my home. On the drive up, we talked about anything that came to mind, observed the scenery and of course had snacks. We also brought our 80 pound dog, Chloe, and our 11 pound Chihuahua, Coco; both of which wanted to share our snacks.

I love going hiking. Some people get out in the woods and just push on through to get to the end. When the trail guides give an estimate of two hours to hike the trail, I know that we will take three or four. We stop and look at bugs, spiders, flowers and rocks. We like to look in nooks and crannies and discuss what type of creature may live in them. We marvel at tree shapes and sizes. Trees are fascinating. When children draw trees, they draw them straight. Trees are not straight. Add to the mix that Jessica is an incredible photographer and that definitely makes our hikes longer as she captures what she sees on camera. Liz usually brings a drawing tablet and sometimes we stop for her to sketch something that catches her eye.

On our drive up yesterday, we were chatty. For the first half of the hike we were chatty. Then we stopped at the park overlook, sat down and ate our granola bars and apples. We also brought some food for the dogs. The trees are still green and full of leaves so we did not get many views of the surrounding mountains. This spot did, however, have a little peek over a lake and we could see mountains beyond that. Beautiful. The weather was warm with a slight breeze most of the hike. A perfect day for hiking.

After leaving the overlook, we became less chatty; lost in our own thoughts. The woods are a great place for thinking. One of my top five strengths, according to the Clifton Strengthsfinder, is Intellection. Liz has this as one of her top five as well. (Haven’t tested Jessica yet.) Basically, that means I like to think. There is a constant hum inside my head. No, I do not hear voices. If you were to ask me what I was thinking about, most of the time I will not be able to tell you because my thoughts go from one thing to another continually. Before discovering that this is one of my strengths, I thought it was a symptom of depression. It actually can lead to depression if I am not careful and control the negative thoughts. I can stop the negative thoughts, but I can not stop the thinking. That is just how God wired me.

I have recently picked my Strengthsfinder book back up to revisit my strengths. I have enjoyed discovering my strengths. It has helped me to realize that the things about me that I sometimes thought were hindrances in my life are actually my strong points; things that make me who I am. Learning about them gave me permission to be me. One of the things the book suggests for people with an Intellection strength is to write our thoughts down. I am beginning to do that through this blog. Liz, is a writer, too. She has been writing, it seems, since before she could actually write. She has graciously allowed me to read some of her fiction and I am anxious for her to finish one of her many stories. She is really good.

Being a thinker, and an introvert, I need a lot of quiet time. Getting out in the woods is an absolutely wonderful place to go. It is quiet, peaceful. It helps to calm the mind, soothe the spirit. Although for me yesterday toward the end of the four-hour hike, my mind was thinking about my full bladder and which tree could I go behind to relieve myself without anyone seeing me, or me accidentally peeing on my shoes, or squatting over poison ivy, and not fall off the side of the mountain. I held it until we got back down.

Our drive home still had us lost in our thoughts. We left the windows down and the music up. We all, including the dogs, were pleasantly worn out. It was a wonderful day.

WORDS

“Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” This is a lie. Words do hurt. Words spoke to others and words spoke inside one’s head can have life altering consequences.

My blog today will focus on the words we speak to ourselves either in our head or out loud. Words such as, “I can’t”. Negative words. Negative thinking.  There was a time in my life that I would say “I can’t” a lot. Whether it was I can’t get out of bed, or I can’t stop myself from eating this whole candy bar (or two), or I can’t do fill-in-the-blank. This is basically a victim mentality.  “I can’t” puts other things or people in control. “I can’t” keeps me from taking responsibility for my thoughts and behaviors. Most of the time “I can’t” really means “I don’t want to”.  It has taken me a long time to get to this point in my life. I do still occasionally say, “I can’t”, but catch myself and change the wording to “I don’t want to.”

Another negative pattern that I recently caught myself doing was going back to a time period and continually listing all the bad things that happened. I used this as an excuse for not moving forward.  For example, last September my basement flooded. Actually, on the Sunday evening before, I received an emotionally upsetting email. Woke up Monday to a flooded basement. The following Monday I started school. The next week my dog had to be taken to UGA veterinarian hospital. There are several more things that happened even after that. Yes, that was a very rough time. However, six or seven months later I was still listing those things as a oh poor me.  A victim mentality of look at all the bad surrounding me. I can’t do this because of all this….etc.

A conversation I have had many times with my children is you can control your thoughts and you can control your behaviors. No one else can control what you do and think. Negative thinking will lead to depression. I know. I know how one little bad thought can snowball into obsessive worry and fear. I know how words like “I can’t” and “I am so overwhelmed” and “I don’t have time” can paralyze me from doing things. I also know that if something is really important enough to me, I will find a way to get it done. When I become uncomfortable enough with the way things are, I will change it.

Complaining is negative thinking out loud. Sometimes I just want to complain about everything. The weather, my finances, my animals, my hair. I have discovered that complaining can have that same snowball effect as I mentioned before. It is kinda like when I am cleaning my house (rare occasions) and I take something into another room and I see something that needs to be done there, too. Suddenly, the whole house (in my mind) is totally filthy, disorganized, and somehow it is my kids’ or the animals’ fault. No one ever does anything around here! I have to do everything and I don’t have time and I can’t…..see what happens? Negativity. So, I take a deep breath, or ten, and re-focus.

Only I can control what is going on inside my head. Until I grasp that concept, I will let negative thoughts control me. I will let circumstances and other people control me. I will continue to use negative thoughts to relieve me from any responsibility of doing the hard work of growing mentally and emotionally healthy.

I will end this with one of my favorite Scriptures from the book of Philippians, chapter 4 verse 8: “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable---if anything is excellent or praiseworthy---think about such things.” (italics mine)

How to Write a College Essay

This is an essay I wrote in my Composition Class back in June.


So you find yourself in a college class and the instructor has assigned a two to three page, double-spaced essay on a topic of your choice. First thing you do is panic. That is a good reaction because writing a college essay can be a traumatic experience.

If you are lucky, the instructor will give you a list of topics to choose from. If not, the choices are immeasurable and this will produce the next step: a minor anxiety attack. Look over the list to see if there is anything you have even a small inkling of any knowledge on that subject. This is where the prewriting starts. Take out a piece of paper and start writing those thoughts down as quickly as possible before they disappear in the deep recesses of your brain. This is called brainstorming. There are other techniques to get those creative juices flowing such as freewriting: writing without stopping; and clustering: relating ideas on a piece of paper by drawing lines to connect those rambling thoughts. Another step to prewriting involves creating an outline of how your paper will support the topic.

After you have picked the topic, the decision of which type of essay you are to write must be made. This is another dilemma. There are at least eight different main forms of essays: example, definition, comparison/contrast, argumentative, cause/effect, process analysis, narrative, and descriptive. But wait, one essay can actually contain elements of all of these. That means the combinations are...well, you do the math. At this point, hyperventilating is a real possibility.

You have decided your topic and type for the essay. The topic must be narrowed down so that the paper doesn't lose its purpose running down rabbit trails. This narrowing down is termed, "The Thesis". (This is said in a deep, ominous voice.) This step may escalate the anxiety and hyperventilating. Take the topic and start asking questions: who, how, why, where, when and what. Here is where you start involving anyone or anything that may possibly listen. Discuss this with your kids, coworkers, cats, dogs, TV characters, the ceiling. This questioning is supposed to help limit which path the topic is to take. The thesis statement needs to be an opinion not a factual statement.

The topic has been decided. The type has been determined. The thesis has been narrowed down. Here comes the main part of the essay. The thesis of the essay must be supported with evidence. The type of evidence depends on the essay. For example, an example essay must have, you guessed it, examples that back your thesis statement. An example of writing a college essay being a traumatic experience would be describing loss of sleep and getting sick over trying to write an argumentative essay. Or, maybe that would be considered a cause/effect essay? It could even be classified as a narrative or maybe a descriptive essay. It is very confusing.

Finding the supporting evidence, especially if this is an argumentative paper, is probably not too difficult. The difficult part comes when you have to document or cite where you find the evidence. How you cite that evidence is extremely critical. Now the full blown anxiety attack rears its ugly head because one wrong move and all of a sudden the horrible word, "plagiarism" creeps in and an automatic zero for all your hard work and loss of sleep is threatened. In addition, the paper must have the correct margins and spacing. All these rules can make even the best writer get a bad case of writer's block.

Okay. Take a deep breath. Just a couple more steps to go and your paper is complete. After the body of the essay has been written, write a short summary of the paper. This is the conclusion. Try not to make it as anticlimactic as this paper will probably be. The topic, outline, thesis, body, and conclusion have been completed. All that is left is to rewrite the whole paper. All of the work just done is part of a rough draft. Look back over the paper, supposedly a few hours or days later, or even have a friend look over it and critique it. Clean up any grammar errors. Tighten up wording. Of course, this particular paper is supposed to incorporate all of the above steps in two hours or less.

If you have made it this far, congratulations. you have survived the traumatic experience of writing a college essay.