Saying it out loud.

When something in your life is really hard, how do you cope?

Do you distract yourself with projects and plans? Do you barricade yourself in a room with a pile of sweat pants and a TV?

Do you tell everyone you know about your heartache? Do you tell no one at all, maybe not even admitting it to yourself?

Personally, I do all the things. I reach for whatever works for me in that moment. I wear my heart on my sleeve, but then sometimes it's under a jacket. Complete denial that there's a problem is my usual first favorite coping mechanism. Complaining about it to my husband and texting a few close friends comes in second. Retail therapy is third. Bubbly wine is a given. Sometimes whatever my coping mechanism du jour  is actually helps me cope, sometimes it just exacerbates what I'm feeling. But since I'm also a typer-thinker, things I would never think to share widely -- I feel compelled to process out in the open here. (Holla if you feel me, writer/bloggie friends).

Am I crazy?

I've been on a hiatus lately from this blog, just trying to make sense of my own life. My purpose. Call it an early mid-life crisis, but I've turned away from this sphere probably when I needed it the most. Is this part of being a grown up, too? All of a sudden looking around you and asking yourself -- how the hell did I get here? Is this what I want? I have a lot of life left to live.... what do I do to make the most of it?

OK, maybe it's just me.

Anyway.

At this point in my life, I always assumed that Tim and I would be getting around to having a family. The storyline was always a little fuzzy, but the broad strokes were clear for us -- wait until we were out of our 20s to allow time to build our marriage and our lives, then have a kid or two. Raise them up to be the most amazing people we know (c'mon, you think this, too). Kids weren't a goal, per se, but a blended part of the life experience we wanted to have.

When we started down this path, I can honestly say it felt like time. And like a fool, I thought things would just fall into place. That I could control this, too.

It's been two years. And whoa -- I'm learning a lot about what it means to have no control. And what it means to now question EVERYTHING you thought you wanted in your life.

I'm bringing this out in the open because it's a real experience. It's not social media picture pretty. And I've reached the point where I need to process it the way I know how.

Did you know that 1 in 8 women will struggle with infertility? When we first started our own personal struggle, it felt like 1 in 1,000,000. Because the minute you decide that you want to have a baby, there are BABIES BEING BORN EVERYWHERE. EVERYONE IS HAVING A BABY BUT YOU. You walk into the doctor's office to have yet another test to figure out what's wrong with you, and you walk by 7657657653 happily pregnant women. You get invited to alllllllll the baby showers. You find yourself stinging with allllllll the "kids-are-a-precious-gift" casual conversations. You get jealous. And mean.

That's totally how it feels.

Then you start seeing the specialists and opening up to a few people, and then you see the struggle everywhere. And how does that feel?

It feels like your own personal stakes just grew. Every infertile woman's success is your success, every failure is your failure. And it is such a boost and a weight on your heart.

So, here are the facts for us right now:

We have more than one obstacle impacting our ability to have a family.
My biological clock is running faster than most (I'm glad something about me likes to run fast? Ba-dum CHING), and we have a shorter amount of time to try to have a family.
We are seeing specialists to determine our path and then give it a shot. We've done the tests, we've called the insurance to see what we can afford (gulp) and we meet again with our doctor next week to make decisions.
I feel like this is a life game-changer. It's on my mind all the time.

And I feel like freaking talking about it.

Because people rarely do. And I think that's mostly because you don't want extra unsolicited advice or even MORE people in your life as anxious as you are to have a positive outcome to peeing on a stick.....

But I feel like..... if the outcome of this is a shift in the track I thought I was on in this life, I need the support and good vibes of the universe on my side for that.

In the meantime, it's the holidays again. And even though all my usual traditions feel a little more forced, Imma do 'em anyway and try to be grateful for everything we HAVE been blessed with. Because it helps take the edge off. (Thanks Real Simple for the protip... and thanks for reminding me that I'm getting old by taking your advice....#Iamthe30yearoldwomantargetaudience)

And now I better hit publish before I remember how crazy I am for just putting this out there......

I guess I'm running now?

At some point in my childhood, running became very un-fun.

One day, I was tearing around a playground in hot pursuit of my tag target, the next -- I was practically crying midway through the mile run in gym class. Can anyone relate?

Working out, in general, makes me anxious. (A lot of things do, but that's besides the point). As an adult, I realize that a level of physical fitness is necessary for, uh, a healthy life I guess? And people tell me that working out helps with stress. Which I have experienced. But truly, to achieve the stress-busting benefits, I have to get over my anxiety. It's messed up. I don't even think I need to say that working out in the morning is especially hard. I'm sure you can ready between the lines on that one.

Running is the most convenient form of exercise but the MOST anxiety producing for me. Here is what it looks like in my head when I go out for a run:

OK, here we go. Remember that it's all in your head, just keep breathing
OK, don't try and match your breathing to your steps
You're holding your breath, stop it
Stop holding your breath
You're going to get a sideache, try and breathe
OK, you have a sideache, just don't stop
Don'tstopdon'tstopdon'tstop
Whoa, dog
OK, sideache is gone, but now your calves hurt
You're probably running wrong, try and strike with your toes
Who runs like this anyway?
Kid on a bike
Try to pace yourself so you don't end up walking
Try and just get this over with
What are we going to eat tonight? Foooooooooooooooood
When you see other people running on this street, start running again so they don't know how out of shape you are
Make sure you use the downhills to run, it's kind of like cruise control
When you drive on this road, it looks totally flat. It's totally NOT flat
Oh, good -- a song you really, really like. Run now
Your mouth is really dry, stop breathing in with your mouth
Dog
OK you can walk now

When I'm in decent shape, that dialogue is a little different, but not completely. When I'm out-of-shape, it's worse. And the worse a run is, the more anxious I am to do it the next time.

Tim, on the other hand, LOVES working out. He's a machine. He could lift all day, run all day -- loves to tell me when he reaches new goals. He's a HUGE cheerleader. If anything, through my runs I'm also thinking about making Tim proud. He's a great influence. I love him (obvi). He's also that guy, the one whose enthusiasm makes my anxiety that much more pronounced. When we run together, he stops when he gets too far ahead of me, sometimes to literally run circles around me. What did he figure out that I haven't yet?

Anyway, I digress.

Back in May, when we were hanging around with Tim's sister and her hubs, we had the brilliant idea to do the Denver half marathon together in October. It would be an excuse, really, for us to get together after they moved to Denver. Of COURSE I agreed -- I'm up for fun in Denver and I could always just back out, right?

So far -- wrong. I'm not backing out. Flights are all but booked.

But I think I decided along the way that I really want to try and prove myself wrong over this. I want to try and combat my anxiety. Basically, just "get over" my fear of running. This feels very 30-something to me.

I still have to do this my way. It's week three and I still haven't done every prescribed weekly Nike mobile app workout. But I HAVE done more working out per week than I have in the last, oh, 6 months. Gotta look at the positive.

I really want to finish strong. I want to finish the race feeling like I worked really hard for it.

But part of me wants to just be OK with finishing the race at all (even if I walk half of it, because that's all I ask other marathon runners right now -- "did you walk any of it?" Like I'm begging them to tell me that they did it by cheating a bit, which makes it OK if I don't train as hard. Grah.)

I'll keep you posted on all this, hopefully I have a happy ending for myself. DOUBLE bonus (and you can bet I've already thought about this) -- completing the half in mid-October means that I start my favorite all-you-can-eat holiday season near the top of my fitness game.

That's worth running for.

I'm back.

.... more than a year later. This blog is like a bad horror movie where the monster doesn't die, right? I'm sure there is a more positive analogy out there, I just can't dig it up. Anyway, you get what I mean.

What was my motivation for coming back? I'm not sure, actually. I think it's the same as it always is post blog-hiatus.... I finally get enough of a breather in my day-to-day to remember how much I enjoy putting thoughts to digital paper, THEN I start to imagine un-realistic future me happily typing away on posts during the nights and weekends (setting: a coffeeshop, the library, smiling with a cup of coffee at my kitchen counter... you get the visual on this?)

And then I decide to post.

I won't be foolish enough this time to promise myself that I'll update this thing more often. But I did try and entice myself with a new blog skin. I have such a tortured creative soul, you guys. I want things to be pretty, I just don't have the patience or talent to do what I want. Graphic design skill? Nope. (And it's not like all I'm lacking is the software and time, y'all. I really don't have the orientation). I'll begrudgingly accept the Blogger templates......

So, what's going on with me? At this exact moment in time, Tim and I have come off of consecutive weeks of plans and commitments (lots of fun ones, some not-so-fun), and I have a week-and-a-half before class starts for me for the fall semester. Summer is officially winding down.

I have some other thoughts that I WILL promise myself to blog about, but as an entre act, here are some of our latest adventures, as seen through the eyes of my phone camera :)

Ben Folds concert at the new amphitheater in town. Was a TOTALLY fun weekend, and we actually got to meet Ben Folds before the concert because he ate at the same restaurant as us! Be still my geeky teenage heart.

We found some decent barbeque in town, which is HUGE for us. Of course, I didn't take a picture of my food, instead I captured the moment they brought me beer in a giant Mason jar. It was a Friday after work, OK? Priorities.

We enjoyed the 10th annual float trip in Missouri with my sister, her friends, and all of us who have jumped on the bandwagon through the years. I have no photos of that event (it's better that way) but Tim and I decided to enjoy a night in Hermann, MO before the float. We took Polly, enjoyed a pastoral BnB, and ate some tourist German food. Mmmm wurst and schnitzle. Don't judge.

Some of my extended family came to town for little Tee's wedding shower and we had a great time. We wandered around NewBo market during the day, walked around the Czech Village in the afternoon and capped the evening at a winery and then with dinner nearby. It was such a perfect (albeit warm) day. That winery scene is one that I really try and capture in my brain, if you know what I mean. Just helps me remember a time when I'm totally happy and relaxed. I try and rifle through those images later when I'm, you know, NOT those things.

I can't remember the last time we got a picture all together like this. Even though it looks like a photo of my mom, Paul, and Maureen that got photoshopped together with a photo of me and Tee.....

I can't even. My baby nephews are selfie pros. Love those boys! I keep these images around when I need to remember happy things too :)

These are supposed to be a real depiction of what's on my phone camera, right? So here it is, me trying out a free sample of red lipstick from Sephora (love that place). What you can't see in this photo? This is me dawdling to avoid working out. 

Until next time, friends (and future un-realistic blogger me will promise you that it'll be soon......),

Kate