It's still half full

I have had a rough week. On Tuesday, I became part of a statistic. Jobless.

I liked my job...a lot. I was beyond shocked that it had happened to me, and four days later, the reality is still setting in. I have cried at least once every day. My sister in law recommended allowing myself to grieve the job loss, many have told me to take a few days to relax and regroup. I am doing both. It has gotten much better every day.

I am riding a roller coaster and heres the thing...I hate roller coasters. I don't like scary yet safe, I don't like not being in control of what is happening to me, I don't enjoy the feeling of panic even when it is quickly followed by joy and safety. I would never voluntarily hop on a roller coaster. Nope, I say enjoy the ride and then I find a shop to visit or a snack calling my name. I sit and people watch while the others enjoy the thrill of unknown moments of ups, downs, twists, and turns. Not knowing whats ahead doesn't really work for me.

Through it all though, I have continued to see my world through a glass half full. I won't lie and say that it's been half full every moment, but when all is said and done that glass is half FULL. The half full glass is a reminder that:

• Jim is my rock. He was out of town when it all happened. When I picked him up from the airport, it all started to feel better. He reminds me it will all work out.
• I have amazing friends.
  
• Sometimes, even as an adult, all you need is to hear your dad tell you everything will be ok.
• People that I called "friend from work", are actually just friends.
• When you spend a Thursday morning cleaning, it leaves your weekend wide open
  

Much appreciated

Thanks to my buddies for the comments to the last post.

Kendall...I JUST figured it out with this post. (I'm a loser), but I appreciate the support.

Heather was sweet as ever, and being reminded that I haven't had to shovel or even scrape a car window in two years helped deal with the heat.

And Amanda was hilarious. A mix of friendly advice, encouragement, and a tiny splash of motherly guilt. Classic!

Tomorrow is a new day, and I am ready to run (if I keep saying it, eventually I will believe it).

Still balancing, oh and I need some encouragement

Remember this post? You know, where I told you that Jim balances me? Well, we balance each other.
And Friday as we completed the second week of our eight week running program I was reminded why. The running program that I hate (and I won't even apologize for using that word), that I feel like a loser doing, and that I really really want to give up on. Until, as I was "cooling down" in the 6:15am heat and lovely Florida humidity, Jim said to me "Hey, its ok if you're not perfect at it, at least we are exercising, and I need you to get me up and motivated to keep going." And there is the balance. I have to tip the scales back sometimes as well.

Maybe I should back up.

You may know, and if not, are about to find out that two years ago we moved to southeast Florida from Northern Ohio. It was a big change in many ways. Many are amazingly positive, some are negative. One that is neither great or awful is the physical differences. It's hard to explain, but a friend said it best once when he said "In Ohio I am a bit out of shape, in Florida I am morbidly obese!" It's a bit of wake up. It's not just the stereotypical changes. I am not talking about the clothes, cosmetic surgery, or the cars. Sure, its a difference, but I don't care about those things. I haven't changed the way I dress (Jessica would still probably put money on me being the first to where a sweater with snowman buttons to a PTA meeting), the things I value, etc.

So let's just put it out there, sometimes it's hard to feel like you are in a sea of fit people and not be there yourself. I have often said that my weight didn't matter, but being fit did. The numbers on the scale don't mean as much to me as knowing that I am in shape. And the thing is, I could use some work.

We have taken great strides in eating better, but neither of us were really exercising. A few weeks ago Jim told me we should start exercising together. I, in a moment I will forever look back on with great regret, said "Why don't we start a running program?" And like that, it was done.

We found a program called "From the Couch to the 5K". Over the course of eight weeks, through interval training, you work your way through the program and are at the end, able to run a 5k. There are no promises for speed in the 5K, just the ability to endure and run the distance. Pretty simple right? Well, I would have thought so too. Then there was me on Friday, sweating and trying to breathe at 6:15 in the morning (and btw it's like 70 and humid at that point already).

I wanted to quit, and Jim kept encouraging me. I kept thinking, six more weeks, just get through it. Then the moment happened. I realized that he needed me for this. To get him up 45 minutes earlier than normal, to make him do this, to help us both. CRAP! It's my turn. I can't keep whining, and hoping we can quit. I have to make this happen, I have to be the balance. Did I already say CRAP!

How do you runners do it? Did you ever hate it? Is it bad that I have to remind myself to breathe? Am I loser because I struggle to run 90 seconds straight? How many Ibuprofen do you take before, during, and after each run? Are you suppose to lose 8 gallons of sweat during your run?

The truth is I want to enjoy this. I want to want to keep doing this after eight weeks. I do.

Do me a favor please. Send me comments and emails and tell me I am a loser if I can't do this. Tell me to push through this program or you will make fun of me. I need a kick in the pants.