I am a Gift to Blogging... or so I thought.

When I started this blog, I felt I would be the next sensation to hit the blogging world. 

I thought, shit, I have so many awesome ideas running through my head at all times. 

Who wouldn't want to hear all the things I come up with?! 

I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. 

Maintaining a blog is one of the most challenging experiences I have had. 

Everyday I mull it over. Everyday I think, "Oh, I could blog about that later." 

But then a few hours later, the concept doesn't even seem that exciting anymore. 

And who the hell wants to read a boring blog?

Most of the things I WANT to write about are personal. 

Too personal for the internet. 

Or very political. And while I have NO problem writing political posts, 

I like to make 100% sure I have researched and feel very comfortable on the topic before posting my opinions all out for everyone to tear apart.

Or they're about missing my brother. 

I find myself googling 

-"Ways to make your blog successful." - which only leads to marketing ideas and ways to get advertisements on your blog to make you money

-"How to get over writers block" - which all leads to weird ass ideas like "give us your favorite childhood movie star." 

-"How to punch writers block in the face." - which only gave me tips on how to write novels/books. Not so much help with the blogging world. 

And I am stalled out again. 

So I am writing a post about my writers block and how I feel my gift to the blogging world is slowly puttering out. How sad. 

Now this post too has hit a brick wall.
WAH!

A Piece of Me in Oklahoma

Remember when you were 7 years old and it was Christmas Eve night

And you were so incredibly anxious, excited & giddy that you couldn't sleep, so you didn't. 

You sat up all night waiting for Santa to come?

And without fail, every Christmas morning he came without disappointment.

That was what it felt like for the first time, the night of October 15th, since I was a child. 

And what I felt like every night up until Sunday when I would leave Oklahoma. 

That feeling of pure excitement is something I will never forget. 

I woke up Wednesday the 16th and finished packing my duffle for my three flights to Oklahoma. 

I hardly felt rested as I spent most of the night with my eyes closed but hardly sleeping. 

Thinking of seeing my brother over and over for the first time. 

And how excited I was to finally hug him again. 

Every flight to Oklahoma hardly had a layover. 

We didn't miss a single flight. 

And when we got to Lawton, OK to say there was nothing to do would be a serious disservice to those hoping to travel there one day. There was literally hardly anything. haha. 

My Dad picked my husband, Joe, and I up from the airport. 

We checked into our rooms and headed out to dinner with everyone who came out to support my brother (Mom, Paul, Lisa, Dad, Kayla, Amanda, Joe & Myself). Afterwards, we went right to bed. 

I didn't sleep. That night before Christmas excitement consumed me. 

We stayed on the military base. Do you have any idea to know what it is like to be so close to a loved one but not be able to see them???

Needless to say, it made for a long, restless night. 

I got up the morning of the 17th. I curled my hair. I did my make up. 

I know he is my brother. And I know I didn't need to doll myself up. But I didn't want the first time he saw me to think, ew, couldn't you have tried to look decent haha. 

And I realized, I am a reflection of him. 

My actions, my appearance, my language, everything I did while in Oklahoma could potentially effect my brother. And I didn't want people giving him grief over something I was perfectly able to have control over. I was on my best behavior.. Which is SHOCKING! haha

We headed over to where the Family Day demonstration would be taking place. Several times I found myself clapping my hands and smiling ear to ear.

It was so hard to contain. I didn't want to contain it either. 

We found a spot on the bleachers and waited. And waited. And waited. 

It felt like forever. 

Then it began. 

The Family Day demonstration was an opportunity for all the Privates to show their loved ones what they endured during basic combat training. So there were several demonstrations that went on. 

And every time a new demonstration would start, my eyes would dart from left to right, scanning, searching for my brother. And each time when I came to the conclusion that he was not part of the demonstration, I would strain my eyes and attempt to pierce through the tent to see if I could make out his silhouette. 

My sister and I, several times, said, "Oh maybe THAT'S him!!!" Only to find out it wasn't! I think we were hoping SO badly we would see him any second that we were tricking our brains into thinking he was in there somewhere. 

But he wasn't. 

They saved him for DEAD last. 

He didn't sign up for a single demonstration. 

He stayed in his dress blues and marched out with his entire battery. 

Do you see how many men and women there are?! 

Can you imagine my family & I searching and searching in this massive group of  soldiers to find OUR loved one. 

I remember hearing someone say, "Oh My God! I see him. There's Jake."

I said over and over again "Where!!? Where!!?" 

I couldn't see him. 

I couldn't find my own damn brother. 

And then, out of the sea of  blue uniforms, my eyes locked on his stern face. 

Private Wichman; middle row, third male in. 

And I lost it. 

Everything felt so right. 

And I just cried. 

The amount of pride, joy, happiness, and an overwhelming amount of emotions I can't even put into words, is completely indescribable. 

Mostly, I felt PROUD. So PROUD to say "That is MY brother. And look at all he has accomplished."

This moment came and went so incredibly fast. 

At least it felt too short. 

Before I knew it, he was gone and we were all headed to the Battery to wait for our loved one to get their day pass and come hang out with us. 

He stood on his Battery platform. 

They were supposed to be able to turn around and leave to go with their families at 11am. 

But at 11:14am, they were still in formation. 

Reciting over and over: 

Sergeant: "There will..."

Privates: "BE NO..."

Sergeant: "drinking. You will be back at 19:45 hours. You will not be late."

They spent what seemed like an eternity going over the rules. 

Drilling it in their heads. 

My brother laughing at the Sergeants jokes.  

And then, they were dismissed. 

He was able to turn and acknowledge us for the first time all day. 

He was able to hug us for the first time in about 10 weeks. 

He was able to kiss his girlfriend for the first time in about 10 weeks. 

He was able to be with his family again. 

Hugging Mom for the first time. And my sister crying to the left. 

Hugging Dad for the first time. And me wiping my nose in the background from crying. Sexy. 

And finally, hugging me for the first time. 

And everything felt back to normal for a moment. 

Everything felt whole again. 

The thing that gets to me the most is, I know how incredibly difficult this was on myself, my family and his girlfriend. 

I know how many times I cried because I missed him. Because I thought of something funny and went to call him but was reminded that I couldn't. Because I heard a song that reminded me of jamming out in the car with him. 

I know how HARD it is to be in this unique situation. 

 I just hope and pray daily that it isn't as hard on him. 

We had each other to lean on when times got rough.

We had each other. 

He had himself. 

Of course I know he missed us, but I don't ever want him (or Kayla) to feel the way I feel when one of them is away from me. That feeling that something seriously important is missing. 

I want nothing but happiness and success for him. 

And I think the military is giving that gift to him. Success.

He is a completely different man. 

He has an immense amount of pride in what he has accomplished, as he should.

He says "Yes ma'am" and "No sir" like a gentleman should. 

He stands tall, heels together, feet at a 45 degree angle, hands at the small of his back.

He is calm. He is patient. 

He is Army Strong. 

Friday was Graduation Day. 

It was a wonderful ceremony. 

Completely unreal. 

Everyone of them sat, backs straight. Hands on their thighs - just at the knee. 

Face forward. Never moving to peer around the room. They sat like statues. 

They stood when commanded, sat when commanded. Yelled marching words when told. 

I just sat in my seat, wide eyed. Taking it all in. I didn't want to miss a single thing.

"Private Jacob Wichman. Rochester, NY." 

He walked across the stage and shook everyones hand. 

Exited the stage and walked without looking around. Walked right by us. Sat himself back in his seat & assumed the same seated position as they were in before. 

After everything was over, we had to follow them to AIT (Advanced Individual Training). And hope that he got a weekend pass. 

Thankfully, he did. 

We spent the entire weekend just simply enjoying his company. 

We smothered him. 

We hugged the shit out of him. 

The old Jake would have been like "ok ok enough enough." 

But this time, he soaked it up. 

He smiled, he posed for pictures, he hugged back.. he hugged tightly. 

I can't even begin to describe how many times I just hugged him and held him there. 

How many times I just randomly said, "I am so proud of you." 

I wanted him to walk away from this weekend knowing how damn proud I was. 

I know he KNOWS. 

So all in all. My weekend was fantastic. 

I didn't want to go home. 

The great part about AIT is that we should have significantly more contact with him. 

He killed his PT test and should have his phone every night. 

Whether or not he will actually have the time to call is another story. 

He needs to study. 

I want him to study. 

I don't want him calling me everyday. 

I want him to focus. 

This is his job training and I don't want him to miss a thing. 

It could mean the difference of coming home or not coming home if he is deployed. 

This training is essential and vital for his success. 

So, I wait until the next time I can talk to him. 

For the next time I can see him.

I'll leave you with some posing pictures from this weekend. 

Showing us his marksman rifle badge and grenade expert badge.

Private Jacob Wichman

Jake and Kayla 

Jake and Mom

Jake and Dad

Jake and Paul

Jake and Lisa

Jake and Joey

Jake and Amanda

Jake and Myself!!!! 

***Special Thanks to my Husband Joseph for capturing all these incredibly timeless and special moments for my family and I 

5 letters, 2 phone calls, 2 photos

I never truly understood what it was life for military families. 

In fact, a few people I am facebook friends have family members that serve - although appreciative that their loved ones gave up their own freedoms to defend my own- I found it annoying that their sisters, mothers, brothers constantly wrote on a public forum about every little detail. 

Well, now I am one of those family members & I completely get it. 

And I feel horrible for ever judging them for their need to post ever little detail. 

Ever letter, every phone call, every picture that is posted online by their Sergeant, all those small little things are the glimmer of hope that your loved one is well, is happy... is safe. 

Since my brother left August 5th, I have received 5 letters, 2 phone calls (one lasted about 36 seconds), and have seen 2 photos posted of him on his platoons facebook page. That is the extent of the contact I have had with my brother in over a month. 

So those 9 outlets I have received are beyond exciting to me. 

They're a little piece of family. A little piece of peace. 

Checking the mail box isn't such a daunting task anymore. 

I know I am not only receiving God awful credit card statements, but there could be a letter tucked in there somewhere. 

And when there is, I cant get my ass through my front door and tear into it fast enough. 

And when there isn't, my heart sinks a little. 

But then in the back of my mind, I just hope that the next day leads to a letter. 

A little piece of family tucked away in my mail box. 

It sounds incredibly corny. 

And that's ok. 

I don't ever expect anyone to truly understand the magnitude of emotions that come with being a military family member. 

There are moments of extreme excitement and bliss and then there a full blown days of utter sadness. 

My sisters birthday for example; 

I just could not get my shit together that day. I did fine on my own birthday without him. 

I did fine on his birthday 2 days prior to hers without him here. 

But on my sisters birthday, I lost my shit.

It started when a song by SafetySuit played into my ears while a work. 

And such a vivid memory came into my head of him and I riding in his Scion with him singing his heart out to that song. 

If you know Jake, you know how much he LOVES to sing.. 

And it broke my heart. 

I know he doesn't get his music in basic and he has written several times how much he misses it. 

So I sang the song to myself... at my cubicle... for him.

It also didn't help that "If You're Reading This" by Tim McGraw followed... which is a song about a solider who dies at war. 

Not exactly what I wanted to hear while already teary eyed after singing to myself a song that reminded me of my brother just moments before. 

I cried. At work. 

I am thankful no one knew. But had someone noticed- I wouldn't have been embarrassed. 

And then I lost it on the way home from work. 

And not just for 5 minutes. 

For the entire ride. 

I had my ugly cry face on the whole way home. 

And then I cried again on the way to my sisters birthday gathering right in front of my husband. 

He grabbed my hand, rubbed it, and just let me sob. 

It just apparently was one of those days where I missed him much much more than I knew. 

So, I guess my point to this never ending rant is: 

When you see my posts day after day, please don't be annoyed like I once was. 

I am sure seeing me freak over a letter every time to you seems old news. 

I am honest when I say that before this experience, I was that asshole who didn't get why that family member felt the need to tell us "Hey my loved one wiped his ass today."

But, that ass wiping story is the only highlight we get. 

It's the only piece of "home" we get. 

This is what we wait for.... 

Jake is the one directing the gunman. 

3rd row, 4th guy in with the water bottle in his mouth.

Saying 'See You Later'

I always imagined in my head how hard it must be for family to say good bye to their loved ones as they leave for the military. 

I think the feelings I imagined in my head fell short of how extremely emotional, painful yet joyful that moment is when you're loved one walks through the airport terminal and says "Bye. See you. Love you guys." 

This past weekend was probably one of the most emotional filled weekends I have ever had in my life. 

Ever. 

I am already teary eyed writing about it. 

I will start with Friday. 

My day began around 6 AM when my phone rang. It was my father. 

I knew exactly what he was calling to tell me. 

You see, a week ago to the day (and on my sisters wedding day), my Great Grandmother suffered a massive stroke. 

She was 98 years old. And up until a few months ago was still living on her own and for the most part - completely caring for herself. She was a vivacious, independent, intelligent and beautiful woman. 

My grandmother had that stroke the morning of my sisters wedding. So before my sister said her "I-do's" we headed to the hospital to say our good byes to our grandmother. 

She made it a whole week which gave all our family time to say their good byes and begin to reflect on what a beautiful life she had and how truly blessed we were to have such a wonderful woman apart of our lives. 

My father was calling me to tell me my Grandmother had passed. 

My response "OK, I will talk to you soon."

I was still half in a slumber and not exactly processing the information he gave me. 

I sat in bed, with my eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, waiting and waiting for the tears to come.

But they never did. 

You see, my Grandmother wouldn't want me to mourn her loss, but to rejoice in the beautiful life she lived. 

And I feel like I did just that. I called work and let them know I would be taking the day to be with family. I felt like my Grandmother gave me the gift of time. 

I should have worked that day, but instead I spent the day with my brother who would be leaving Sunday. 

The weekend was basically filled with me following my brother around, laughing with him, laughing at him and just enjoying my time with him. 

My brothers decision to join the Army broke me. Shook me to my core. 

I consider myself to be a very over the top patriotic American. 

America is my home. It's the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

I have always been thankful for our service men and women. Many of my friends serve this country. 

But to get the news that your baby brother signed a contract that in an essence makes him government property- something inside of me changed. 

I couldn't stop crying. 

So many emotions. What if he dies while serving? What if he is hurt and impaired for the rest of his life? THIS IS SUCH A GREAT OPPORTUNITY!! I am so unbelievably PROUD! This is SO COOL!

It's literally so many different emotions of sheer panic, fear, joy, proudness, anticipation a sister could feel for a sibling. 

I am going to fast forward to Sunday now. I woke up at my mothers (I spent the night at my parents so I could wake up with my brother every morning & have breakfast with him) and made pancakes and bacon. My father came with his fiance. Jakes girlfriend was there. His friends came over. Everyone who loves and cares for my brother were all sitting at the table together, laughing, and sharing their unwavering support for my brother. 

A few times, I removed myself from the group, sat on the couch and just absorbed what I was seeing. 

I was witnessing a family so passionate about supporting and caring for Jake.

I saw my brother taking it all in and truly appreciating everyone coming out for him. 

It really warms my heart. 

The hardest part of that Sunday came at about 2:30pm. It was time to say good bye. 

I could feel my emotions choking in my throat. Tears welling in my eyes and how hard I was trying to force all my feelings down. 

I wanted to be strong for him. I didn't want him to see me cry. But if you know me at all, I can't. I wear my emotions all out there. I can't hide it. 

I hugged him so tight & told him I was proud and I loved him. 

Just before leaving for MEPS

Dad & Jake before leaving for MEPS

And before I knew it I was standing in the kitchen, all the guest had filed out, and I was bawling. 

I cried on and off the remainder of the day. And ate my feelings. 

The plan was for everyone to meet at my Mom's again at 7 AM so we could all leave and head out to Syracuse NY to the MEPS office to watch him swear in. 

Monday morning, bright & early I headed to my Mom's. 

We all filed into cars and started heading out to Syracuse. My sister was back from her honeymoon. So today was her only chance to see and say good bye to my brother. 

We met at Dennys and attempted to eat breakfast, which didn't work out very well. 

I was so nervous and anxious I couldn't eat. I took one bite of toast with my eggs & felt sick to my stomach. 

Before I knew it, it was time to head over to the MEPS building to watch him swear in. 

We walked in and he was sitting with all the other recruits. We couldn't say hello to him just yet. We filed into a room and waited until he was able to hang out with us. 

Within 15 minutes he was able to sit with his and hang out until it was time to swear in. During that time, one employee came back to tell the families what to expect during basic combat training. That today, we could witness them swearing in, have lunch with them and that we could even follow them to the airport, get a temporary boarding pass that would get us through security to sit with our loved one until they boarded the plane (which we did NOT expect)! 

We all were then called into the "red room" to witness the swearing in process. 

My brother is all the way in the back. 

I was so focused on watching him that I didn't even think to cry. Which I was proud of. 

I could've sworn I would have been the only one bawling my eyes out in the corner. 

After he swore in, he ate some lunch, boarded a bus and we all following him to the airport. 

We got our temp passes so we could get back behind security. 

I cant even begin to express how thankful I was that they allowed the families to do that. 

And then we sat in the airport for about 2 hours just hanging out, spending time with Jake. Watched some Vines and laughed. 

Some may say those moments flew by. I would say just the opposite. They dragged on for me. 

I was so anxious for what I knew was inevidably coming that it felt like eternity. But when that moment came when they called his flight, my heart sank. 

I looked at him and said "Shit, you can be AWOL. It's not really time yet."

And I could feel that lump in my throat creeping up again. 

We walked him over to the gate and pretty much everyone lost their shit. Including my brother. 

We have had 6 months to come to terms with him leaving the nest and joining the Army. 

But no amount of time could prepare you for the feelings you're going to have on that day. The first time you say good bye to your loved one. 

When it was my turn, I hugged him as tight as I could and told him I loved him and how proud I was. And that I couldn't wait to see him graduate. I watched him cry as he said goodbye to everyone who came out to show their support that day. 

And then I watched as he stood in line, hand over his boarding pass and turn around one last time, raise his hand as he waved and said "Bye guys. Love You." and he rounded the corner. 

And I pretty much lost my shit. 

I cried on and off on the ride home. Thoughts ran through my head. I was no longer just going to be able to call him to do lunch. I wasn't going to see him twerk randomly in the day. I wasn't going to hear the sound of him on his Xbox in the background while visiting my mom. 

So many little things I took for granted just walked onto a plan and flew to Fort Sill. 

Now our journey starts as a military family. 

I plan on writing him a letter each day he is gone. 

I don'd mind if he never gets the chance to write me back. 

I just want him knowing that I am 100% behind him every step of his career. 

Support is so key in these situations. 

Words cannot express how thrilled I am to fly to Oklahoma in October and watch him graduate. 

I look forward to him coming home & rounding the corner in uniform at OUR airport, with signs in hand and jumping on him to give him the biggest hug. 

This weekend may have been hell. 

It may have been full of tears and slight migraines. 

But it is the beginning of something wonderful. 

It's the beginning of watching my young brother turn into a Army Strong man. 

And I think my Great Grandmothers funeral that same night of my brother leaving really captured it all. 

I didn't cry once at her funeral. 

It wasn't a funeral. 

No one was mourning the life of our loved one. Instead, we were embracing her beautiful life. 

It was a celebration. 

And that' what this journey will be. A celebration of Jake becoming something greater than just a homegrown kid. He is becoming a Soldier. 

God Bless America. 

Self Worth

Lately, I have been feeling down. Not myself is probably a better word. 

And on my break I headed over to read Mama Laughlins Blog

She had this posting about 'Self Worth.'

If you don't know who or don't read Mama Laughlins page, you really should.

She is a woman from Dallas blogging about her life, her weight loss struggle all while raising a family.

I think I like her so much because she writes some real shit.

Not fluffy shit people want to hear. But just the truth.

 

Anyways, after reading her blog that day, I literally had tears in my eyes.

Maybe that's lame. But it truly got me thinking that self worth is something I am lacking lately.

It's no ones fault other than my own.

 

In the beginning it started about how one of her readers husbands had admitted to her that he was no longer attracted to her anymore because she had gained weight.

I'm sure you're thinking, "What kind of douche bag husband would say such a thing?"

But honestly, I was thinking- "Shit, I hope my husband doesn't secretly feel that way about ME."

 

When I first met my husband I was at most 110lbs. AT MOST.

And I felt unstoppable. I felt sexy. I felt desired.

And today, the scale creeps between 135 and 140.

Everyday I feel some level of disgust when I see the scale.

I get it, it's a number, but it's a number I have never seen before.

And I surely don't like how the number looks on me.

[Side note: For those thinking "Seriously, that bitch is complaining about 140." On my tiny 5'3" frame, 140 is on the thicker side of things. And personally I prefer being toned and on the smaller side for 5'3" ]

 

 

Everyday I wake up and think, today is the day I am going to do something about it.

Most days I have been going to the gym and doing my cardio and some lifting here and there.

Nothing has changed. Nothing.

Naturally, I become discouraged and take steps backwards.

I eat my feelings and then I sort of feel guilty about it.

It's a nasty cycle.

 

One of the things Mama Laughlin mentioned in her blog was how she never questioned her husband.

She naturally did what she was told. Never going against him.

Now I am not saying I don't question my husband, or challenge him... but I definitely feel I let things slide all together in my life as a whole.

Career wise- I love my job. It's great. Don't get me wrong. But is NOT what I envisioned for myself.

It is not my dream job by any means.

I find I have become complacent where things were once driving me.

Married life is fantastic but I have become a lazy wife too. I don't do for my husband the way I should. Or the way IIIIII feel I should.

Family wise- I tell myself all the time I am so swamped with everything else in life that I am forgetting to stop and smell the roses. To spend time with FAMILY. After all, they are what is most important to me in life.

My brother is leaving for the military in a few weeks and I am already wishing I spent MORE time with him.

Granted I cant help that I work everyday until 4:30 or that I literally have a wedding every single freakin weekend this summer, but I could sure as hell try a lot harder or put him before some of these other things going on in my life at the moment.

 

I feel the insecurities within myself are severely hindering me as a human being, as a sister, as a wife and as a daughter.

I am sitting her writing this and it's a small realization that I am allowing my weight effect me so much so that I have just allowed everything important to me fall way side.

All most as I am not deserving of it because I am unhappy with myself.

 

Mama Laughlin finishes off her post by stating that after losing the weight she found her again.

I am hoping that will happen for me.

That after enough hard work, I will find me again.

 

 

 

 



If I Had a Million Dollars

I haven't blogged in ages.

And truthfully, what I would really like to blog about is this George Zimmerman case.

And how it has nothing to do with race and everything to do with a terrible prosecution

and him being well overcharged.

But I need to do a tad more research before I start throwing my opinion out there.

But as you can see, you get a small taste by reading the above.

So instead, I am going to write a senseless blog.

What I would do if I won the lottery.

As I age the more I hate working.
Makes me wish money truly grew on trees.

So let's start... What I would do if I won a million dollars.
To start, a million is not that much, so quiet honestly, I probably wouldn't be a huge "do-gooder"
Maybe if I won a million for the rest of my life I would share.

1) The first thing I would do is buy my dream home.
Something sort of like this

Tons of windows. Kinda looks like a modern day castle.
And assuming this cost under a million (which it wouldn't)- I would then do the following.

2) I would then hire maids. Obviously. I sure ain't cleaning all that space.
And a million dollars, I figure I can probably pay a service for maybe a year or two and then, well, then I guess I would have to clean that shit.

3) Then I would pay off my student loans.

4) Then I would probably pay off my sister & husbands student loan debt.

5) I would pay off my Dads house.

6) And then I would do work with the wounded warrior project. My brother enlisted in the Army this year and he has been wanting to work along side them when he comes home. So, I would make sure some of my winnings would go towards something he would like to be involved in.

7) I would then buy a sweet ride.
And the sweet ride will probably be more of a reality sooner than later because my air conditioner shit the bed and I have been driving around this blistering heat with no air.
It's God awful.

8) Travel the world.

And that about sums everything up. 

My First 5K & I Survived

Yesterday was the JP Morgan Corporate Challenge 5K

Which is more than a 5k. It's 3.5 miles not 3.1 miles.

Joe had bullied convinced me into signing up and running it with him.

I don't know what I was thinking.

This was my first 5kand I did NOTHING to prepare for it.

Not even stretching took place.

Mind you, I have never ran more than a mile and 1/2 before.

In my life. Ever.

I was kind of pissed off just before the race started.

I was sporting a white race number (meaning jogger/walker)

Joe insisted on moving to the front of the section with the yellow (meaning runner) tagged folk.

Did I not just say I am not a runner???

I was terrified I was going to be trampled.

 I kept saying I wanted to move back but I stayed with him.

The race/run started and I felt like a ton of people were running around me.

I moved over to the side and Joe moved with me.

I eventually needed a walk break after what felt like 30 seconds of running.
I told Joe to go ahead.

To be honest, I prefer to be alone when I am running or working out.

I dont like to feel like I am holding someone back

And I dont like feeling like someone is holding me back.

That left me to motivate myself to move on foot in front of the other.

I had no music to entertain me.

I only had the sound of my feet hitting the pavement,

the heavy breathing all around me,

and the words of encouragement being shared by those who did choose to run in pairs or groups.

During the run, there was an older, heavier dude.

I would run ahead of him and then take a walk break.

Everytime he would catch up with me.

There were a few times I almost said Fuck It I'm Walkin'

But then I would see him, stuggling, but pluggin' along.

I thought to myself, Get it Together. If he can do it, what's your excuse?

Eventually, I passed him.

Each mile marker was like a fresh breath of air.

Only not because I felt like a dying cow.

But you get the idea.

I finished. I finished at 49 minutes and 55 seconds.

Honestly I was proud of that time.

I wanted to do under 45 but I will take 49.

Like I said earlier. I had never ran over a mile and a half. So to do 3.5 miles felt good.

It hurt but it felt good to finish.