Yes We Can.

 Warning: This blog is highly motivational and may be likened to one of those early morning self help infomercials - but it had to be done.

I don't want to become one of those people who only talks about running. I know those people, and I delete them from my Facebook because I become exhausted with their "blah-blah-blahing" about how awesome running is, and having to look at pictures of them all sweaty and smiling at the end of some marathon. That to say, this will be the last time I publicly discuss anything having to do with running, so bear with me.
You have to understand first off, that I have tried and failed at becoming a runner numerous times over the past few years. I attempted the Couch 2 5K program and dropped out. I got wild hairs here and there to just run a mile and almost died every time. My shins hurt incessantly. I was convinced that I was just not made to run. The only reason I decided to give it a go this last time is because a friend of mine recently started running. Just, out of nowhere. She had had her third baby and wanted to feel healthy, so she started running. Little by little her time and speed got better- but it wasn't about that. It was just about accomplishing it at all, and how good she was feeling. I like to feel good, so I decided to run. I went into it with a totally new mindset, though. The goal was not for it to feel good, or become easy, or to burn X amount of calories. The goal was just to accomplish running.
I have been running now for 2 weeks. Yesterday I ran 4 miles, and today I plan to do the same. The past 2 weeks have taught me more about myself, life and God than I have learned in quite a few seasons. I would like to share what I have figured out so far. This is probably no news to many of you, but for what ever reason, my heart has just now grasped a hold of these truths:

1. Nothing worth while is easy. It isn't supposed to be. If it was, it wouldn't be all that worth while. No extraordinary feelings of accomplishment come from doing things that are easy.
2. YES WE CAN. Obama may have stretched the truth a little with this campaign slogan, but really, we can. We can do anything if we really set our minds to it. This is astounding to me, because I am not, nor have I ever been a dreamer. Sad, I know. I pretty much shatter my own dreams before they even have a moment to grow, because if it seems the least bit out of reach, I give up before I even begin. Running has taught me that just because something is out of reach, doesn't mean you can't get to it.
3. We were created to endure. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Running isn't just physical. Pushing through pain and fatigue is a far greater mental battle than it is physical. Learning to endure is something we can carry with us in every aspect of our lives. We are made to push through, keep moving, and constantly see the light at the end of the tunnel, because there is always a light. That is what God is. He is the light at the end of everyone's tunnel, whether they can see it or not.
4. Being strong doesn't mean being skinny. This may be the most difficult lesson I have ever learned. I feel healthy and capable, and in love with moving my body- but I am not model/actress/cultural norm skinny- and THAT IS OKAY. I mean that. It is, for the first time in my life, completely and utterly OKAY. Better than okay. Am I saying I won't have fat days? No. Am I saying I won't have moments where I watch prime time television and compare myself to some starlet? No. All I am saying is I am exercising for the right reasons, and in turn learning to love my body exactly the way it is.

That's all.

On Bulimia, Anorexia and Running.

I never called myself a bulimic. Even when I had become "good enough" at purging that I could do it in public places without the attention of anyone in a surrounding stall. I wasn't bulimic, it was just something I did. I never had full on binges where I would devour entire pizza's, packages of oreo's, bacon maple milkshakes and an assortment of potato chips. I just threw up no matter what I ate. As if I shouldn't eat anything at all. I never lost any real weight. Just maintained where I was, and that was okay with me. The more you purge, the easier and more addictive it becomes. And easy is good. No real work involved in throwing up- no exercise needed. No strength, just weakness.

I never called myself an anorexic. Even when I could eat a small salad with no dressing and call myself full, or skip meals completely. I wasn't anorexic, I was just exercising control. I never went an entire day without some sort of food- I just chose to count every calorie, weigh myself constantly and beat myself up if I felt like I needed food. I never lost any real weight, just maintained where I was, and that was okay with me. The longer you go without eating, the easier and more addictive it becomes. And easy is good. No real work involved in skipping lunch- no exercise needed. No strength, just weakness.

During the times throughout my life that I was not (not) bulimic or anorexic, I just worked out 2 plus hours a day- never for strength, just in hopes of being skinny.

It is too early to call myself a runner. I have been running daily for 8 or so days, starting with 1 mile, then 2 and now 3- shortening my time a little everyday. I wake up looking forward to pushing myself in a good way. A way that means meeting a goal, just for the sake of meeting it. I don't hit the "calories burned" button on the
treadmill, I just smile knowing I did it again today. It doesn't matter if I lose a pound, that is the last thing on my mind as my feet and heart pound, and sweat beads slip from my face to my arms. I am not thinking about whether I will or will not eat lunch, and what it will consist of while music blares in my ears and I push through all the moments all I can think of is giving up. Running is hard. Hard is good. There is no weakness, just strength.

I will run my first 5k July 17th, and I am so proud of myself.

Authenticity.

I was greatly complimented recently, by someone who knows very little about me. The compliment reads:

By the way, I was told recently by two different people about what an awesome and authentic representative you are for Jesus and that you have the respect of these people. One person said that you live your life in a way that makes that person want what you have. Praise the Lord!                                  


Instead of being excited about this, I immediately felt pressure. I had just finished a fantastic evening with fantastic friends full of close to all 7 of the deadly sins on some level. It was no drunken orgy, but we were nowhere near thoughtful conversation about Christ, either. I thought about my night, and my friends, and how my guess was that none of them left thinking, "Man, that Brooks is such an authentic representation of Jesus!" I thought about my life and what it has looked like recently, which is an ongoing struggle with my faith as a whole. Lying in bed with my husband who doesn't know or understand God and feeling like I was closer to that side of the spectrum than I have been in years and years. Waking up feeling absolutely nothing about God except confusion. Finding myself in moments and days when I don't even push anymore, I just bend, because it is easier to conform than fight.

I read something recently that states, "I meet so many people who have "superwhatever" rattling around in their head. They have this person they are convinced they are supposed to be, and their superwhatever is killing them. They have this image they picked up over the years of how they are supposed to look and act and work and play and talk, and it's like a voice that never stops shouting in their ear. And the only way not to be killed by it is to shoot it first. You have to kill superwhatever. And you have to do it right now. Because your superwhatever will rob you of today and tomorrow and the next day until you take it out back and end its life. Go do it."

My superwhatever is perfecting Christianity in myself. Being the perfect example of who Jesus was, which means saying and doing and loving exactly the way that God, the creator of the universe did- superchristian. It is supermom. Superhomeschooler. Superwife. Superfriend. Superperson. What I realized reading this is, 1) How arrogant of me. 2) Where is the breathing room? Where is the slack when you can just be? 3) How come I still haven't grasped the completeness of the fact that I am loved just because I am. Just because I exist. And, that I will never be exactly what God has intended me to be when I spend all my time trying to be superanything.

All of this to say, I will take the above compliment. I will claim it as mine. As who I am. I say the wrong thing a lot of the time. I laugh at inappropriate jokes, and sometimes I even tell them. I struggle with vanity, lust, envy and pride everyday. I wrestle with myself- who I am and who I want to be. I wrestle with God, and the Bible and theology and ideas that I know I will never understand or be able to verbally explain to unbelievers. These are EXACTLY the things that make me authentic in my relationship with Jesus. I am completely and wholly imperfect. I know what perfection looks like because I read the gospels, but I also know I won't ever be Jesus, and I am not supposed to be. I am just supposed to be ME. The best ME I can be. And thankfully, grace fills the gaps.

A to Z.

I have the best husband. Ever. I have a tendency to complicate things, and sometimes, Travis needs to make an idea as simple as it can be for me to grasp the truth in it. Today, he made a diagram on our shower wall. This is a reproduction, but something that needed to be shared.Please excuse my terrible "paint" skills.