Pep Talk for the "Non-Runner"

People ask me about running a lot. Probably because that's a lot of what I talk about! I've run 6 half marathons, 1 full marathon, countless 5Ks, and other random-distance races since 2010. Between training, eating (constantly), preventing or treating injury, and the races themselves, I have a lot to talk about! I could chatter for days about running-related crap that other people care nothing about. On the other side of that spectrum, when people come to me for advice about running, many curious people ask me how I do it. They say, "I wish I could do that." "You ran 10 miles? That's insane! I could never do that." "Running sucks, how do you do it?" I would like to address all these aspirations and doubts. :)

I didn't wake up one day and Forrest Gump-style run for miles!! I started very small. I would also like to include that since I am young a lot of people assume I ran in high school or college. Nooooo. I had a short-lived track career before I gave it up for the arts. The only running I did was from band to theater! So I am saying that I, like many who consult me for advice, did not have a running background. I started from scratch! I did run a bit in high school outside of organized sports. To my mother's dismay, I would run on our country road. The stretch of road I chose was only less than a mile, and I would run one side and walk the other. Until one day I could run both sides without stopping! I eventually built up from running/walking less than a mile to running a full two miles, then three miles! After a few 5Ks and a little encouragement from friends, I registered for my first half marathon (13.1 miles). I remember the first time I ran 6 miles in training. I crawled to my dorm room. Yes. I am very dramatic. Crawled, whining about how dehydrated I was. A few years and many races later, I call six miles a "short" distance.

"I wish I could do that." YOU CAN! If you were blessed with the ability to walk, you can certainly at least try to run. Start small. Set a goal. Choose a local 5K and challenge yourself to at least finish it. Forget about a finish time. Another great thing about races- almost all of them have a wheelchair division, and those athletes are the most inspiring ones there! I've said it once, and I'll say it again. I can barely run up a hill. I know I could not wheel myself up one! People who participate in races have all kinds of abilities, but they have one thing in common. They are all determined beasts!

"You ran 10 miles? That's insane! I could never do that!" Refer to "I wish I could do that." pep talk. :) Also, never say never! I would like to add that I am often in higher mileage because I run long distance, which is my distance of choice. This is not everyone's choice, and it does not need to be. Some people are sprinters. Some people love a good short-distance race, and therefore keep their mileage at 5 miles max. Some people do ultra-marathons. (An ultramarathon is any race longer than 26.2 miles) Choose the distance that works for you! Just because you don't run marathons doesn't mean you're not a "real runner." If you run, you are a runner! 5K Queen or Marathon Machine. You are a runner.

"Running sucks, how do you do it?" Same answer as before: It's all about the build-up! Plus running does kind of suck. Especially if you're just starting to train. Your lungs and heart are working hard for you and your body is using its energy stores. That doesn't sound glamorous, so don't expect it to feel glamorous. No matter how many times I've trained, the first mile of my workout almost always "sucks." Remember that every runner has bad days when they bounce out of a run or their legs feel like lead. You have to push past those moments to get to the good ones; the easy mile; the finish line.

Running is a mental sport. If you talk down to yourself, you're not going to do well. You need to train your mind as well as your body. I assure you- You are more than capable of reaching the finish line. You are SO worth it. Your body and mind will thank you!

Friending, Following, and Fighting: Navigating the Rough and Wonderful Waters of Social Media

The internet is home to the good, the bad, and the ugly. The good, and most obvious (and founding) reason for social media, is to connect with friends, new and old, near and far. But the bad and the ugly can take a real toll on your mental health without you even knowing. Here are some things to consider when you follow and friend folks on social media!

Here is my personal way of using social media, and it’s okay to use all forms in all different ways:

Facebook: FB is where I follow my friends and family and share personal info and photos. I love to share sometimes long and winding statuses if something funny happened that I think is worth sharing. I also write equally as long statuses if I witness something unfair or hateful. I also utilize the good ol’ FB for fundraising purposes for various charities I support. Overall, I use Facebook as a storyboard and scrapbook.

Instagram: I share photos of all kinds. Photos from daily life: How far I ran, a beautiful photo from a trail run, pictures of my friends from dinner, and sometimes pictures OF my dinner. Oh and my nephew and cat. :D Instagram is a free-for-all. I am a visual person, and if I find or take a photo that makes me laugh, I’ll share it. I’m not a five-star photographer. I just share humorous or pleasant photos. I also started doing #feministfriday approximately a year ago, and I love sharing socially enlightening photos as well.

Twitter: Although I address some seriousness in each of these accounts, Twitter is the least serious to me. Which is ironic because I think Twitter and its fame for hashtags is most important for social change. For example, I got a lot of information about the Sandra Bland murder through Twitter. Anywho, when I am not perusing the latest socially important hashtag, I’m sharing stupid tweets about my day, being hangry and road rage. Generally crass and unimportant. Hopefully entertaining. ;)

Now that you know how I utilize social accounts, here is how I keep myself and my friends and followers in check.

The Good

I am the type of person who can be easily misunderstood. I’m not overly obnoxious, but there is potential. I’m stubborn, and sometimes I think people perceive my strong personality as maybe feelings of superiority. I never want to be perceived that way. I do think since I have started using social media more frequently that I have become more conscious of how I present myself to others. It’s important to be critical of your actions and words, and my presence on social media keeps me in check. For example, when I started preaching my love for feminism and equal rights, I was guilty of only pushing middle-class feminist issues. Social has helped me find my voice as an ally for women of all races, gender identities, and abilities. I also used to share my opinion unapologetic-ally at all times. I am still unapologetic with my opinion, but I am slowly understanding that my comment is not necessary on everything! I’ll never be perfect, but there is always room for improvement!

The Bad

My Facebook friend list grew from maybe 200 to 900 from college on. I regularly try to maintain my friend list, but I try not to be overly harsh about unfriending people (as if anyone cares). My newsfeeds, especially on Facebook which is my oldest account, becomes an accumulation of.. well. People and info I don’t really care about. Here are a few questions I ask myself: Is this person relevant to my life? (Hahaha that sounds really harsh, but it's important. As a writer, I know I have people who enjoy reading my blogs and work. If I don’t regularly see this person but I know they appreciate my work, I keep ‘em! Those people are valuable!) Will I ever see this person again? (I have had a few “friends” who do more harm than good. If they share hateful and narrow-minded posts, I block ‘em. Not worth my time or effort. Especially if I never see the culprit in person. Again, who really cares? Get rid of that negativity!)

Another bad aspect of social is the fact that sharing a personal story or photo opens up a forum for discussion. Sometimes it’s fun! Sometimes it’s awful. I recently had a male friend attack me for sharing a story about being bullied for my tattoos. In his opinion, there are more important issues than the fact that women’s bodies become commentaries for people who treat them as objects. Ironic since I’ve never seen the culprit make a feminist observation in the six years I’ve known him. Social media can really bring the bigots out of the woodwork. When you share on social, you have to be prepared to either brush off the bullies or fight with them if the cause is important. When in doubt, block it out.

The Ugly

When I think of fighting with people on the internet, I want to cry. It’s exhausting. It’s frustrating when someone doesn’t understand your point of view and sometimes it can make you feel like a bad person when you’re just trying to communicate a progressive and simple message. This seems shocking, but I’ve been targeted by various OLDER (older emphasized because you would assume they are more mature!) people online. My first ugly fight happened on Facebook with a family member who mocked a status of mine about Robin Williams. My status was about reaching out for help if you’re suicidal because, in my opinion, it was worth a try. If that saves one person, who cares what everyone else thinks? This older woman mocked my status, and when I called her out on it, became very aggressive and personally attacked my history of disordered eating and then tried to invalidate my experience because I am half her age. Very rude, immature, and uncalled for.  Needless to say, I blocked her. It’s been a year, and I haven’t had to argue with her about ANYTHING. (Refer to previous section: I never see her in person anyway!) Blocking her removed at least a small fraction of stress from my life! 

Like all other relationships in life, you need to make sure your "relationships" on social media are healthy! Unlike real life, they don't need to be meaningful at all. Social media is what you make it! It can be satirical, a news source, or just a place to talk with friends! Just make sure you're not filling your own life with the trash of others and putting yourself at risk for bullying and exhausting virtual arguments. Not worth it!

A Woman's Dramatic Journey Through Target (to Chipotle)

I wandered in the store, covered in sweat and bugs from my latest trail run, longing for Chipotle which was so far away. But I was on a mission. I needed a nut driver (lol) and some mace since mine was MIA. I walked to the tool section. Not a nut driver in sight. They had pink screwdrivers for crying out loud! But not even a nut driver. Sidetracked because of my intense hunger, I found myself admiring bath towels. Then decorative throws. I ran my shaky hand across a red one. I could just lie down on the floor with this. And sleep. Forever.

Really pleasant thoughts to have at Target, lemme tell ya.

With Target having me under its Target Spell, I walked aimlessly into the candle section and smelled every candle in the place. So hungry, I thought, I'm actually going to melt into these scents and fade away. I snapped out of it, remembering the sweetness of the guacamole that awaited me. Suddenly I found myself in the exercise section. I picked up two purple dumbbells and put them in my basket. I need these. I need to be strong. I realized I was looking for mace.

I found a kindred spirit (aka a Target employee), who I sensed also hated people, near the Cheetos. "Do you carry mace?" He stared at me pitifully. I couldn't tell if he was staring at the mascara smudged across my face, the bugs that had perished on my body, or the dirt that lined my ankles. This kindred spirit/secret hater named Arthur walked me aisles away to the appropriate section and got me some mace.

Carrying my basket of mace and weights, I thought, Damn, this basket is heavy. Oh yeah, there are weights in there. Duh. I found a checkout line that looked longer than the trails I had just run. A woman got in line behind me. She stood so closely to me that I kicked my basket a few inches ahead and moved. She moved with me. I had no choice but to give her some serious side eye. I was starving! How dare she!

Then-- the treacherous journey to Chipotle. I thought it was going to be a fast drive from T to C. But I also thought I was going to faint. I wasn't so sure I could make it. Although I know the area like the back of my hand, I took a wrong turn which delayed me severely. There was no way out. Only a bunch of one-way turns and a lot of pedestrians. It's not my proudest moment, but I'll admit, I considered hitting a human being with my car to get to Chipotle. When I finally parked, I walked out in front of some jackwagon driving a Mercedes. Because.. Try me. Also, food.

I finally hobbled into Chipotle and began to order from the adorable employee. "Burrito bowl, please." "Do you want any beans with--" But suddenly I felt something bite my ass cheek. "Excuse me, I'm sorry, I think there is a bug in my pants." Without thinking, I'm in a public space right now, I reached my hand up into my spandex to get the little sucker out. Bug-free, I finished my order. I took it to go because I just wanted to go home and take my pants off. On the way to the car, giving absolutely no shits whatsoever, I stuck my trail/Target/bug-in-the-spandex hands into the chip bag and delivered the saltiest, most glorious chip I've ever tasted to my desperate lips.

Invincible Summer

I have developed a theory that people personify the season they were born into. I was born in February, the coldest month in winter. Although winter is the least favorite, harshest season to some, I think it is lovely. The snow falls and covers everything in sparkling sheets of white. The air is crisp, and the nights are bright.

My best friend, born in October, is a warm fall day, easygoing as the quiet breeze that gently removes the dried leaves from the trees and places them on the ground.

Another best friend, born in May, is the epitome of cheery spring flowers. She is always pleasant, and she brings the sunshine when she walks into a room.

And I love so many people who were born in the summertime. My Papaw, my mother, my great-grandmother, two sisters, my uncle, and another best friend were all born in the heat of the season. They are all fiery and playful and full of energy. I would love these people fiercely no matter what, but their fire certainly balances out my ice. They are my sunshine when I am too brisk. They are full of life when I am empty. Yin and yang. Which explains why missing Papaw, one of the loves of my life, has been so hard. His heart completed mine.

My grandfather's birthday would have been today. This summer has been undeniably hard without him. He adored every summer activity.

Grilling,
golfing,
gardening,
running,
sitting on the porch,
snoozing in the sun,
walking on the beach,
taking in the waves,
soaking in the rays,
watching the fireworks,
drinking sweet tea,
laughing in the grass.

All of these remind me of him.

"In the depths of winter I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer." I really did. Papaw is my summer, as I am the winter. He will always be in my heart, thawing the ice that's been freezing there for years. He is invincible.

Happy birthday, my love.

If you wish to make a difference in the lives of those suffering from cancer, please consider making a donation to the American Cancer Society C2C Run http://main.acsevents.org/goto/cupcakes4acure or specifically pancreatic cancer patients, the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network,  https://netcommunity.pancan.org/sslpage.aspx?pid=796

xo,
JB

Adulting 101: Office Blues

When I graduated college, I was SO ready to start a full time, “big girl” job.  An 8-5, 40 hours a week type of thing. I thought an office job would give me the stability I had missed in college when days blended into nights and weekends were for bingeing on sleeping and eating and everything in between. But in my two years in the workforce, I’ve made quite a few surprising discoveries about office life that my mama never warned me about.

Dress code

When I got my first “real job,” I was thrilled at the thought of actually looking like a human instead of a zombie with mismatched socks when walking out the door. I was elated to have an excuse to wear a pencil skirt every day! That went downhill real quick. Lol @ looking presentable. Now it’s like a casual fashion show when I don’t have to dress up. Who knew that shopping for linen tees could be so great? Grandpa sweaters and leggings are my happy place, and sometimes I miss that zombie with mismatched socks. High buns are for days you roll out of bed (okay, everyday). Taking off your bra is the most gratifying activity of the day. And as they say, home is where the pants aren’t!

Stylin’ and profilin’

When you get a haircut, or modify your appearance in any way, you have to discuss it with what seems like a thousand people. In reality, it will be however many co-workers you have. Fifteen different people will ask you if you got a haircut, although it’s obvious you did, and you have to bear the conversation fifteen different times. I recently dyed my hair, and I had to deal with co-workers’ reactions for a span of two days. I got so tired of giving the same boring answer, so I spiced it up a little bit. One older gentleman awkwardly asked if dyeing my hair was my “choice.” I said (I really said this btw), “Unfortunately it was not. In the middle of the night, a magical hair unicorn entered my room, touched its horn to my head, and said, ‘You shall have hair that burns brighter than the light of a thousand suns.’” I would only suggest “spicing” up your answers about haircuts and colors only if you’re in an environment that you know you won’t get fired for being a little smartie.

Your co-workers make or break your job

I truly work with a cast of characters. That can go two ways. Some of my co-workers are difficult to work with. A few people could not be positive or friendly if their lives depended on it. I still cheerily say, “Good morning!” to those people and just shrug off their bad attitudes. On the other hand, I am lucky enough to work with a very good friend, and she makes my job so much better! It’s nice to have someone to share jokes with and go to lunch with.

Again… Co-workers make or break the… 

Recently I had a co-worker stand in front of my desk and actually fart while talking to me…loudly. I am terrible at holding in laughter, and this person stood in front of me and acted like it didn’t even happen. When the person walked away, I had to run out of the office and laugh. So hard that I cried. Then I laughed at my desk sporadically throughout the rest of the day, and at some point my boss asked me why I kept laughing. Embarrassing moments happen at work for everyone, and since you’re with your co-workers alllll the time, something of that nature is bound to happen.

I personally had a wardrobe malfunction when I was still new. I had a hole in the butt of my dress, and had no idea for hours. When I found it, my face turned a new shade of red. I had to walk back to my office, holding my dress closed, and I asked my boss to staple my dress shut! Yes, staple!

Sometimes things get really grossly personal

My good friend, the marketing director, approached my desk one day looking completely appalled. I had to pry the answer out of her because she was so disturbed. “I was on ****’s computer, and I found a folder called ‘sex photos’ in his Hotmail.” I was also immediately disturbed. I became upset that my friend had to discover this, even if it was just the title and not the contents. I wanted to march back to ****’s office and ask, “What is this, 1997? Keep that crap on your phone!” I resisted, and we just laugh about it now. But honestly. Who does that?

You look forward to everyone else’s vacation as much as your own

College is much different than a full time job because in school your schedule differs on a daily basis. At work, you see the same people over and over again. At the same time. Every day. This is why adults are always whining about needing a vacation. The struggle is REAL. I realized that I love when others go on vacation too. As awful as it sounds, sometimes it’s nice to have a break from Woman Who Always Complains About the Weather and Man Who Cannot Understand How To Copy and Paste for a few days.

Adult things like “work trips” happen

Twice now I have traveled to our corporate office for a symposium. All expenses are paid! We get to stay in a fancy hotel, and they feed us three meals a day. It’s fabulous. I really don’t think I accept the whole adult thing, but I considered it after my first work trip.

You end up building valuable relationships 

At the end of the day, you realize that Man Who Does Not Understand How to Copy and Paste and Woman Who Always Complains About the Weather kind of sort of care about you, and as much as it hurts to admit it, you care about them too. (But it doesn’t change the fact that in the beginning of the day they made you wish there was whiskey in your tea.)

Hang in there, my fellow office babes, the weekend is just around the corner! ;) Or a bar is at least.

A Message of Hope from the Birthday Blog

It's the Peace Mobile's 4th birthday, and as usual I thought I'd celebrate four years of spreading peace and hope by... Spreading more peace and hope! Enjoy!

To make a long story short, 2014 was a hell of a year. Not in the way I had imagined.

In the summer I was diagnosed with depression. If you've never been diagnosed with this, I'm sure you can imagine that it's not the most fun thing to be told. I refused to believe it at first,  but it made sense. I had trouble eating, sleeping, and I had little to no hope for my own future. I felt stuck in my own job, and I felt talentless and pointless. I incessantly worried for my grandfather and my family. My eating disorder drug me down as I tried to train for the marathon. I hit rock bottom when I cried about eating a bowl of blueberries. It wasn't that I didn't want to. I just physically couldn't. I felt sick. After that incident I sought help.

Then as autumn approached, my grandfather became more ill and eventually passed away. For awhile I felt guilty for not being there when he passed. Maybe I could have said something funny to relieve everyone of their anguish. Maybe if I had just more day with him. Maybe this, maybe that. Then one day I was thinking to myself about the events that happened, and I said, "I'm glad I wasn't there." Holy epiphany. I'm glad I wasn't there. It would have been too painful, and that's a pain that I could not have handled. I came to peace with the fact that I wasn't supposed to be there.

You know that "live each moment as if it's your last" bit? Yeah, that's no joke. I had no idea when I stepped on that ship that I would never see Papaw again. I had no idea that 2014 was my last year with him. But you know what? I always lived every moment with him, loving him with my whole heart and soul. A lot of laughter, some tears, and infinite love. I have no regrets.

I finally got on the right track to becoming healthy again-- physically and mentally. Papaw, nor any of my family members, would want me to live such an unhappy, worrisome life.

I am here to tell you that there is hope. You know that little saying, "Do more of what you love?" That's what I started doing. I started writing more. Much, much more. I began to read more. I ran when my body felt like it. I played piano to my heart's content. I sang loudly. I played my flute. I baked goodies for my friends. I laughed with my loved ones. I napped with my cat. I binge-watched Saturday Night Live.

And I felt my soul come to life again.

My writing has lead me to grow in a way I didn't realize was possible, and I'm looking at my dream job square in the face. Just a few more months of hard, passionate work, and I am positive I will get it. There is a fiery confidence in me that I didn't have before.

I beg you, if you are struggling with depression right now, please understand that there is light and hope at the end of that nasty, lonely tunnel. Please seek help if you need it. Message me if you need to. I hope you can read my story and understand that there is happiness within and you're so close to having it- I know it. It's not a simple fix, but you do have the power to change the way you look at yourself. You are strong and brave and worthy of all your dreams. Now go out there and make it happen!

Love always,

Jamie

Sherry Baby

One of the millions of things that made my grandpa great was his support of me no matter my choices. We actually had very different interests. He loved golf. My golfing skills are comical. I love music. He had never played an instrument in his life. Well, he always teased me and said he could play "the thumb." But I don't think that counts. ;) He loved the Big Bang Theory, and I hate that show. I love The Office, and he hated that show. But no matter our differences, if I was ever on a field or on a stage with an instrument in my hands, you bet Papaw was front and center. So was Mamaw and my Mom. But it's significant that Papaw was supportive because I knew that he wasn't personally interested in hearing gorgeous arrangements from the District 17 Honor Band at Ohio University. He had no interest in Wizard of Oz or Grease. He loved me though, and he wanted to support me. And that made me feel like a rockstar.

Growing up, I played many sports. I tried my hand at softball, basketball, volleyball, and track. Believe it or not, there was actually a time that I was good at volleyball. I played in middle school, and I was a starter in 8th grade. When the summer/autumn of my freshman year rolled around, I had to choose between volleyball or marching band. It wasn't really a choice. Sports are more of a hobby for me, but music is my love. When it came time, everyone knew that I was going to choose what I loved.

One day toward the end of my high school days, Papaw said, "You know, you would have been really good at volleyball." I looked at him, not knowing where the conversation was going. Then he continued, "But you're the best in the band."*

That was one of the best things I've ever heard. He accepted my talent as it was. He had no interest in changing it. He loved every sport there ever was, but he loved me more. He loved strutting around after my piano recitals and band concerts, telling everyone, "I taught her everything she knows." He loved harassing my musician friends, who grew to love him and his antics.

That spring, the concert band was playing a Frankie Valli medley, and "Sherry," was in the arrangement. That is definitely the anthem of Papaw and I. It was just a sweet coincidence. We loved singing in ridiculous falsetto voices and laughing at each other. At the concert, we started the medley, and if I remember correctly, "Sherry" was in the middle. When I started playing that piece, I made eye contact with Papaw, who was mouthing the lyrics with his signature grin. And that is when I lost all my ****. I started laughing so hard that I had to stop playing. Our beloved director Dingess looked at me, smirking and also shaking his head, you know, considering that my loud instrument had the melody at that point. Haha... Oops! It was the kind of laughter that you crave but cannot create on purpose.

I am so lucky that I was his.

Before he died, I had a few touching conversations with him about my future. When I came home for a night after the marathon, we were lying in bed and he asked, "So what's next, Jame?" It made my heart full to know that he expects big things from me. I made him some promises, and I can't wait to fulfill those.

I asked him if he would watch a show if I ever wrote for one. He said, and I love doing my impression of his answer, "Yeah. I might think it's stupid, but I would watch it anyway." And I know he would.

*To my bandies, he meant that my talent was best suited in band. Not that I was better than anyone else!

Mamaw, Papaw, and I with the trophy I got for being one of the "best in the band." :)