I am one of those people who get a little sad when a book I am reading is near the end.  Chances are, I've spent a number of days and hours becoming acquainted with the characters and their plights, the time period and setting, and maybe I don't want the story to end. But it does.  And then I move on to the next book. That's how reading works, right?
 
What I find interesting about this analogy is that despite feeling a little disappointed when a story ends, I find some joy and hope knowing I'm now ready to start a new book, perhaps an even more exciting story.  And yet this morning, this literary hopefulness is not translating. 
 
There is an obvious fear of the unknown that we all carry with us. We become comfortable in our stories, even when they are sad or perhaps toxic because there is a level of comfort in our own chaos. We know how to handle at least some of the characters there.  Perhaps we are a little unsure of the twists and turns of the plot, but we at least understand part of the pattern of the story. We may even convince ourselves that we are happy and safe because leaving the current pages of our own books is so incredibly daunting.
 
I need to turn the page.  There is no other way to make it to the end of this current book I am holding and start a new story. I've known this for months, but it wasn't until late last night that this analogy hit home.  Avoiding the inevitable just prolongs agony.
 
Once again, Pinterest came through for me and offered me this quote: "When you find no solution to a problem, it's probably not a problem to be solved, but rather a truth to be accepted."
 
Whoa.
 
I've spent nearly three years spinning my wheels trying to creatively solve a massive conundrum. I've exhausted myself, cried myself to sleep, cried my way to afternoon school dismissal, cried my way through Gilmore Girls re-runs and i-Tunes playlists. I've written about it and talked about it endlessly. I've done everything short of driving myself crazy (and I've probably done that too)  to try and solve this puzzle when there is no solution other than to turn the page. 
 
The truth that needs to be accepted is that I deserve more - from other people, from myself. And not to turn this into an Oprah style self esteem rant, but maybe we all forget who we are. I know I have. Every so often a glimmer of the fire that kept my cold coal engine running flares back up and I remember a layer of confidence - and not the fake smiling stuff I put out now to hide my insecurities- I mean the voice inside of me that used to drive me to take on challenges and to walk away from people who stood in the way of my success and happiness. 
 
I know I have given more of myself  to people who have no intention or perhaps no ability to give back to me. Emotionally, that is a lonely place to sit expecting or at least hoping for a little something in return and it never really comes. There is no question that I wear my heart on my sleeve and I admit to feeling more than the average person feels, but there is also no excuse anymore when people take advantage of me. If you can't give back to me at some level of intensity near to mine, then I have to get to the next page, and turn.
 
As painful as that is, the truth that has to be accepted is that turning the page is the only way to advance my story and maybe some characters are not in the next chapter. Or maybe, they come back at the end, just in the nick of time (I really have to remind myself to look up why we say "in the nick of time." Who is Nick?). Either way, until the page turns, we can never know. 
 
That's my sobering and sad reality today. It's been my sad reality for some time, but one that I was not ready to face. I don't give up on anything - love, family, Eli Manning and his offense, or friends. The last thing I wanted to do this year was walk away from the world I have known for so long, but it is clear there is no other way. 
 
The positive take away here is that I'm closer to settling down with a new story - new characters, a new setting and a new plot. I'm terrified, if I am being truly honest. And so, I'm going to read slowly, take my time.  Now that I have committed to beginning a new book, I can fully immerse myself in the story.  And maybe, just maybe, I will enjoy it more and the last book, as powerful as it was, will be a nice memory. 
 
The thing about books - whether they travel with us in paper or on our tech devices - is that we can always re-open them and start them again. For now, my old book will be on a shelf in between Sense & Sensibility and Rabbit, Run. A good spot for a good story I once didn't want to end. 

 

I've only been running somewhat consistently since about April of 2014. My initial goals had been fairly simple: 1) don't die (probably a good goal to have in any activity, really); 2) run a 5K (and don't die while doing it).

But since becoming a runner, and meeting and surpassing those initial goals, I've had to develop new ones so that I remain engaged in the sport. So I would set new personal record goals for myself and work toward taking time off of my 5K race time. I still haven't met the goal I set 2 years ago, to finish a 5K under 26 minutes, but I've been close and I'm sure I'll get there. I set a goal to not throw up after a race anymore, and that I have met thanks to Benjamin. So I've got that going for me, which is really a good thing for anyone within a close distance of me at the finish line.

Now I've moved on from quicker race times - and by the way, I'm not trying to win anything. Occasionally, 4 times to be exact, I earn a medal in my age group, but I'm really just trying to improve my time from year to year for each race. I've moved to trying to increase my distance. Up until this summer, the farthest distance I had run was probably 3 1/2 miles. That was until I joined the Salt Shakers.

I had been invited to join the Salt Shakers for years by my good friend, Dina. But I was intimidated. These guys are hard core. They run up the sides of mountains - 5, 6, 10 miles. A lot of them (including my brother in law and Benjamin) ran the NYC Marathon. They do Spartan races and Ragnar races. Like I said, hard core. I didn't think trail running was something within my wheelhouse, having limited myself to 5Ks on fairly even ground or at best the flat and straight "rail-trails". There's always the asthma too.

It took meeting Benjamin and creating an excuse to see him late this summer to get me to attempt my first trail run with this group. At first, I took it easy and did just over 3 miles with a few of the "injured" members of the group. But the next run, I figured I would at least attempt the full 5 miles and maybe walk if I had to. One of the nice things about trail running is that you have to slow down at times so that your run becomes more of a hike anyway. Needless to say, I completed the full 5 miles and now I was hooked.

The runs are challenging for me as a newbie, but equally as wonderful as an evening trail run, is the group itself. Some of the most supportive and generous people on the planet. They cheer you on, they wait for you if you are falling behind the pack, and are always finding ways to give back to community groups. And they are so much fun. To congratulate ourselves for a job well done after the run, we head to the bar for a beer (or 2). What's better than that?

The Salt Shakers are a large and diverse group - men, women, younger, older, runners, walkers - and besides a love for the outdoors and fitness, the other thing they all seem to have in common is a desire to help others. Whether it's through raising money for non-profit groups that offer free breast cancer screenings or volunteering as coaches for the Girls on the Run program or taking a day to clean up the trails, these guys give back.

I've always found that true athletes have a different mind-set than your average dude at the gym. True athletes know they didn't get where they are without the help of a lot of other people and so many of them have a natural instinct to help not only their fellow athlete, but their fellow human. Maybe some of the professional guys have public relations as motivation, but they still do it and they still do good things.

But I am also finding that these trail runners just do it a little better. Perhaps it's because everyone knows running is the worst. It sucks in so many ways. It's hard on your body, first of all (talk to my right knee and shins; they'll tell you.) and it's hard on your mind. There is a constant battle between the you who is saying "Ok, this sucks, I hurt, I'm done" and the you saying "Come on, you can do this." Runners all know that, so when they cheer for you and encourage you, they also feel your pain.

I'm lucky because I have a sister (who also happens to be an elite athlete) who runs with this group. Since she's coming back from a really bad injury, she has to work a little harder to get to where she once was, physically. Mentally, she knows that she can "do it."

And she was my inspiration this Sunday as we joined a group of cold-weather Salt Shakers for the Highland Challenge. Now, my sister and I only attempted about half of the 9+ mile, up a mountain, full course, but it was still more running than either of us had done in months. (And we ended up adding at least .5 miles to our run because we missed a turn on the trail and had to go back). My sister knew she could tackle this run and I figured, if she can do it coming off a broken ankle and very little exercise because of it, then so could I. And if I couldn't, at least she was there to carry me off the snowy and freezing trail since Benjamin was running the whole course and would probably be traversing the side of the mountain, while I was complaining.

Well, I ran the entire 5+ miles and stayed close to my sister the whole way. When we weren't running together, I took deep breaths and took in the beautiful snowy trail, the fresh air, the flowing water of the Morris Canal. A few of us were running close together (because we all missed that first turn off the road) and so we would wait for one another to make sure no one got lost. I loved every moment of it.

Upon returning to the home base (the bar), we all greeted one another with "how was it?" "how did you do?" and "great job today." And there was great beer on tap.

​I'm grateful that I finally took my friend's advice and showed up this summer and that Benjamin also encouraged me to try. I'm grateful that my sister and brother in law are there to motivate me. And I'm grateful that this group is so welcoming, giving and wonderful. I'm looking forward to longer days, more sun and the trail this summer with this group.

Ps. Although I did feel it necessary to carry my inhaler because of the below freezing temperature we were running in, I didn't need it! So, there's that too!

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