I appreciate Me.

Driving through Kansas State University's campus a few weeks ago, in sunshiny whether, I was annoyed at all those college kids.  I noticed how they'd just step of the street in front of a car, how they wore way to short of shorts, and how young they all seemed.  It's been 7 years since I graduated college. SEVEN?! WHOA.

But you know what, I think I decided today that I am happy I'm not college-aged anymore.

On a quest to be a more authentic version of myself, I've tried to become comfortable with who I am, what I am, all of me, right now, in this exact moment.  Even though we are all working to be better versions of ourselves, I want to be happy in my shoes, now.  That's all I get for certain, and it makes for a more happy life.  This morning in yoga I set the intention to just appreciate me.  No negative self-talk.  I initially meant this just as "in yoga" like when I use a block for a side angle pose and wish I was as strong as the girl I'm facing because she's not using a block and also looks amazing in those yoga pants.  I tried to just say "great job with that chair pose, you kicked its ass!" and "nice job coming to practice today, you will definitely benefit mentally and physically. I'm proud of you."

I'll tie this together, let me get there.

Tonight I shared drinks and stories with some of my friends I hadn't seen in a while.  Since I'm leaving soon we're trying to soak it all in now.  After some food, we decided to wander through Aggieville (think downtown college area with bars and shops) and shopped a little bit.  I tried on clothes that were cute and summery and also maybe a bit to young for me.  I felt bloated from mexican, and awkward in the smallest clothes on the universe. (seriously, they are made for elves.)  I felt old, and fat, and not the same as I was 7 years ago.  I felt a little down on myself.

Then I thought about my earlier intention. You know what?  I'm not 21.  I've got a few years and a few hundred million more experiences on me than I did 7 years ago.  But I am damn proud of who I am right now, and all of those crazy, happy, horrible, sad, thrilling, lovely experiences.

Maybe we should all make lists of things we are proud of ourselves for.  Here are some of mine.

• I have an honest, true, deeply loving relationship with one of the best men in the entire world.  I get to call him my husband. We had a kick-ass wedding filled with love, laugher, drinks, fun, great music, and the most outstanding family and friends who traveled far and wide on a holiday to celebrate with us. 

• I own a dog, (at one point all on my own) and she is one freaking awesome dog. 

• I have 2 homes in my (our) possession. And yes, it's a pain we have them and don't live in them, but how fortunate to have 2 roofs to be over our heads, should we need them.
• I love my family. 

• I've jumped out of an airplane.

• I lost the love of my life. And I hated it. I was dragged kicking and screaming back into life. I didn't die. 
• I've made some of the very best friends in people I only knew online for a while.

• I have run a 10 mile race in DC in honor of an amazing man.  Twice.

• I have run countless 5K and other races, all of them with my teammate by my side.
• I have moved 4 times in the past 2 years.  I'm pretty good at it now.
• I started my own business.
• I was able to provide support to 2 of my closest friends as they welcomed the most beautiful baby boy. 

• I have gone back to school to pursue a dream I didn't even know I had 7 years ago.
• I reached my original "goal career" 2 or so years after college. 
• Earned my own Spurs.

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• I can travel with the best of them.
• My music taste is so. much. better. 
• I swam with dolphins.
• I've conquered my migraines (it's an ongoing process). 
• I'm a yogi :)

So ya, I'm not 100lbs, wearing short skirts and running through the snow to mad jacks (read: college bar, no longer there). But I'm ok with that. College was awesome, and some of the friends I made there are unmatched- I wouldn't trade them for the world.  But I really like where I'm at.  Friday night blogging at 8:30pm. :)

I'm definitely fine with this.

I appreciate me.

Thankful.

This week I experienced a day that ended with me feeling nothing but entirely thankful for the blessings I have in my life.  It wasn't much different from an ordinary day, but the small things that happened filled my heart with love. 

I received a gift from a friend that I put on as soon as I opened the package, sitting in my car in front of the clubhouse where I had to pick the package up. Sometimes I forget how much something little can make someone feel special and I was so grateful that she took the time to think of me and remind me I'm loved.

While I was at work later in the day, I heard a song on the radio I haven't heard in so long.  Faithfully isn't a song the mix station we listen to ever plays.  I choose to think it was him.  It came on at a time when I was working the desk by myself, so I was able to truly enjoy it without having to explain to anyone why I was teary-eyed.  I smiled and thanked him.  He has to know how much I needed to hear from him.  I laughed because following that song is one of the songs I hate the most right now, "If I die young."  One of my girlfriends chalked it up to the radio's sense of humor. It just all felt very good, very familiar, and filled my heart to the brim with love.

That night after work I headed to a yoga class. I am always drained after work, but I know that going makes me feel amazing so I try to shove the tired to the side and go anyway. I am so glad I did.  The class was packed! I mean only-a-few-inches-from-your-neighbor, we-all-kept-scooting-to-make-more-room packed.  But the class- the best! The music mix that accompanied us was a mix of iron and wine, mumford and sons, florence and the machine, and other fantastic artists.  We did a lot of chest openers, which is exactly what you need after a day sitting at a desk. And I left feeling euphoric.

Talking with my husband after my day, I couldn't stop jabbering about how all these amazing things happened to me and that I felt like more great things were on their way. I am so, very blessed in all area of my life that it's funny how I don't always recognize it.  

Thank goodness for amazing days like this. 

Yoga

I enjoy the running habit I have grown into in the last year or so because it has gotten me somewhere I never imagined I'd be. I was not a runner as a child or as a teenager. It was not my thing, and that is putting it mildly. I "ran" track in high school mostly because everyone else did and it was some scheduled hang-out time with my friends. My two events were the high jump and the long jump. I loved the high jump- it was so fun! (Side note: it has been said that my dad was watching the high jumpers of the 1984 olympics in the minutes of my birth as he waited in the waiting room while my mom was having an emergency c-section. I was destined to high jump.) Coach Craig eventually made all of us participate in one of the running events and since the 200 Meter dash was close to the end of the meet, that was usually what we'd all have to run. Anyway- too far off track- I was not a runner. To have run a 10 mile race at a pretty solid average pace in my 25th year of life is quite an accomplishment. One I am very proud of- one I wish Mike could know he was the inspiration for.

Although I am proud of my running and intend to continue running to keep myself (in particular, my heart) in shape, the novelty is wearing off. Somewhere in the back of my mind keeps floating the thought of my rusty, but one-time ideal yoga practice.

About 4 months before Mike was killed we spent a lot of time talking about our future, what we would be like together in our future life, how our family would run, etc. We decided we would have a healthy family, and do as much as possible to control our own health and that of our future children. To do this we thought it was necessary to begin all the healthy habits we could immediately so that it was easy to pass them on. We called it the "Healthy Family Plan." He had a lot more down time and he was working out a lot, and I promised I would try some different workouts and find something that I really enjoyed. I had toyed with the idea of yoga before. The deep breathing, the stretching and building of long, lean muscles all appealed to me, but in that sort of "hip, hollywood" way. After some research I found a class at the Westlake Rec Center and went 3 times a week. I feel in love. What I mean is that the teacher was amazing and presented the practice in a way that constantly appealed to me. I looked forward to going, and on long work days when I wanted to skip the night class I would realize on my drive home that it was so very worth it for me to go. It completely changed my state of mind for the day. It was like a reset button for me. I told Mike how much I was enjoying it, how I had found the workout that not only was making me stronger but that I wanted to do. This concept was so foreign to me.

My yoga classes were on Tuesday and Thursday nights- and Saturdays. Thursday, September 24, 2008 I was in yoga class. I remember what I wore- a navy blue tank top and gray yoga pants. I remember where I sat in the class, on the right side sort of in the middle. I came home after, and wrote Mike an email saying that I was glad I went to class tonight, it had calmed my nerves from a stupid fight I had with my mom earlier in the day. Then I said to him something like, "Baby, I'm really done with this. I want you home. I want this to be over. I don't know how much longer I can do this. I just want to have our wedding, and you back, now." He was already gone. He never received that message. I had no idea.

I know many women who knew something was different in the moments after their husband's death, before they were notified. Because of the time difference and circumstances, it takes a little while for the news to travel. I had no idea. I felt no different, except for my need to be near him, which was not a new feeling in the 11 months we were apart. I wasn't even worried. I say that in the way that those of you who have experienced deployed spouses will understand. I was in a constant state of worry being that he was deployed to a war zone, but at that point I was accustomed to living with that feeling and although I had that constant worry, I was more impatient with the time we still had left. I was more consumed with the thoughts of how amazing our wedding would be if we could only get there. I never, for a second, thought he was dead until I talked to my father, and then his father, the next morning.

So in the moments when he was scared, nervous, in pain, worried about all of us back here, telling his commander to tell me he loved me, in all those moments I was peacefully breathing through some pose with no idea what was happening.

These thoughts have kept me from yoga. When I began to be ready to workout again, I knew that I could not get back into that. I have tip-toed and toyed with the idea for more than 2 years now. I have bought a couple DVDs that I've done zero times. I dusted off an old DVD that I've done once. I downloaded an app that I did for about a week. I researched and found classes around Westlake, and even at the bally's I was a member of, but I can't take that final step to actually do it.

I looked in my current location and found a couple studios that looked inviting and do-able. Nick found a groupon to one of those studios and when he sent it to me I decided it was meant for me to being again. I bought it. For 2 weeks now I've intended to use it. I've looked at their website about 20 times. I've planned out a schedule that will allow me to try several classes. I was going to go 2 days ago. Then I was going to go yesterday. Then I was going to go today. I haven't gone yet. It's difficult, but surely I've done more difficult things. Thinking about those minutes before he passed are one of the things that still hangs in the hollows of my inner caves of grief. I shut the doors and hope they will clear out, but until I face it, move past it, realize it may be more beneficial than harmful, I don't think it will go away.

Here's to hoping I get my butt back to yoga...