For four years, I have been a runner. And for four years, I have written about the miles. Loving The Run has been a part of my life for nearly two years. And the lessons I have learned…the people I have met…the joys I have experienced…every moment has been a brilliant step along a fantastic journey.

It is time, however, for me to be silent. It is time to step back, close up shop and turn inward…

…for a season.

I love running and remain passionate about writing. But looking forward with intention and a life vision, I see profound value in a self-imposed blogging/social media hiatius.

While I am in “silent mode,” my hope is that you will continue to do the things you need to do…in order to stay in a constant state of personal evolution. I want you to always strive for that happier, healthier version of you.

Until we connect again here at Loving The Run or on Twitter or Facebook…Happy running, and happy living!

Kelly

P.S.  If you want to get a hold of me for any reason, feel free to send an email my way – kelly [at] race for others [dot] com

Last January, I wrote a post inviting 2012 to be a year of growth. Specifically, I discussed the differences between runners who gauge success based on a quantitative analysis and those who look through “qualitative glasses.” I strongly encourage you to read the post in its entirety, but if you are only stopping by for a moment, here is the statement I want to discuss today –

However you measure your success as a runner, the only thing you can truly measure it against is the prior version of yourself…

May 2012 be an opportunity for growth. May you rise strong above the challenges and fearlessly set out to attain the goals you made. May you run strong, love deep and do good in remarkable ways.

As I read today what I posted 12 months ago, I was struck by how prophetic the words seemed to be.

Without a doubt, 2012 was a year of growth for me. There were challenges, but I overcame. There were lofty goals, but I fought hard and saw many of them realized.  There have been several strong runs, as well as an introduction to a deep love of yoga. And I’ve experienced the truly good side of more than a few faithful friends.

Today, I am certainly a better version of myself.

I love the idea of looking forward and structuring your every day around a pre-defined life (or year) declaration. Framing the journey you want to traverse may not alter the circumstances, but focusing your mind in such a way might possibly change your outlook in every circumstance.

I want 2013 to be a year overflowing with purpose. I want to live this year with intention and be fully present in every moment, never taking for granted even the smallest delights of life.

Whether I lace up my shoes or roll out my yoga mat, I want to jump start my day with a smile on my face and a heart full of compassion, knowing that I am doing all I can do to  keep myself happy and healthy.

What about you? What is the one word to describe what you want 2013 to be all about?

By lunch, I would be burnt out and tired.

And by dinner, I would be disappointed by all that I wasn’t able to accomplish (my To Do list tends to be longer than the hours available in the day). I would, of course, lovingly care for the sick one (a full-time job) and do as much as I could to catch up around the house (a second full-time job), but I always went to bed wiped out.

The last two days have been unexpected stay-at-home days for me (due to the sick child described above), but my mindset has not been what it once was. I still set out to a) lovingly care for the child, and b) cross at least ten items off my extremely urgent “NEED TO DO TODAY” list. But this time—

I took mini-me breaks, where I stopped working for 10 minutes and did something just for me: I sat in complete silence and savored the beauty of our Christmas tree; I triaged my Google Reader articles; I read a few articles; I laid on my bed – not sleeping, but resting my mind and body; I hung on a little bit longer in the embrace of my sick little one; I worked on an art project I wanted to finish.

Bottom line is that I am learning what joy there is in living with intention and in the present, not worrying about tomorrow or next week. The mini-me breaks fill my soul. And only with a content soul can I continue to dish out the love and care I have for others. It’s remarkable, really, how happy I have been lately, even in the midst of total chaos (sick kids, a leaky roof, a broken fence…you know how it is). And I’m convinced it is a result of my efforts to capture and tame my mind. The mind can be very convincing, you know but not always truthful.

Take time for yourself today. Just 10 minutes every couple of hours, no matter what you are doing. Breathe deep. Go for a walk. Smile. Look at pictures of your family. Fill your soul however you want to fill it (FYI: You can’t go wrong by going for a run). It’s worth it.

Broken roofs.
Broken fences.
Broken toys.
Broken promises.
Broken relationships.
Broken dreams.

There are also a great many blessings in life—

A Christmas card from an old friend.
The first hug of the morning.
An unprovoked “I love you” from a child.
The unexpected piece of advice at just the right moment.
The discovery of a five dollar bill in your pocket.

As we experience the brokenness (which is inevitable), I think we must actively guide our attention to the blessings. For they are there, just waiting to be noticed and recognized. And it is in seeing the blessings of life that we best handle the brokenness of life.

I am more susceptible to perceiving blessings after a run. Or after a mind-clearing yoga session. Or after a deep conversation with a friend (another blessing!).  Or after a really long hug from one of my kids.

It doesn’t take me long then, to see and understand the ebb and flow of life. And in that, there is balance.

Before the rain hit one day last week, I went out back armed with my clippers.

So filled with awe of their color, I took a picture of my home-clipped bouquet and immediately posted it to Facebook. Why? Because I wanted to share the beauty that I saw.

The world is full of beauty, and we mustn’t let the daily responsibilities of life push out the little moments of pure good.

Be fully present in your day today. Look around and focus on the people, places, things that make you smile…that are beautiful…that make your day better. What is it today? Please share with us the beauty that you see.

It’s important to me to allow my daughter to dress herself. I hope it boosts her confidence for years to come, and it certainly helps me out during the early-morning rush.

She makes me laugh though because of the wisdom coupled with her apparent lack of fashion. As she watches me delicately apply make-up and carefully blow-dry and straighten my hair, she comments most mornings, “It doesn’t have to be perfect, mama.”

No, my sweet little one. It doesn’t have to be perfect. I don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to be perfect. And I am so grateful for the reminder.

Mistakes are painful, but they are the only way to figure out who we are.

I can’t remember where I heard this, but it was just recently. I think it may have been from Grey’s Anatomy.

It’s a truth that has stuck with me the last few days. We all make mistakes: Big ones. Small ones. Ones that hurt others. Ones that hurt only ourselves. Ones that are remembered for a lifetime. And ones that are forgotten the next day.

Regardless of the size, shape and disaster density of our mistakes however, they do provide an opportunity for closer examination of our soul (always a good thing).

And they afford us a chance to grow (again, always a good thing).

***

I ran four miles yesterday. I hadn’t run four miles at once in several weeks, and not only was it a “I-want-to-run-forever” type of run, but I learned something about myself—

I realized that I haven’t been running much out of fear that I am no longer the runner I once was. I haven’t been running much out of fear that my identity as a runner is now skewed because of the lack of miles and increase in yoga (or days of nothing at all). I haven’t been running much because I haven’t been of the belief that I can successfully “train” while balancing the rest of life.

This mindset of mine has been a huge mistake.

And I’m ready to move on. I’m ready to run.

And today is more of the same. I actually took the day off work in order to accomplish more…to be able to cross off my list an orthodontist appointment and a vet appointment and grocery shopping and more yard work. Funny that even after a three-day weekend, I have to take a vacation day to stay caught up. Whew…

But at this moment in my day, I sit here in an empty house. The kids are at school and Bob Marley sings out from my iPod. The dog is asleep on the carpet and the sun is breaking through the clouds outside. I sit here smiling. It was a good weekend, for sure.

Amidst all that was done, however, I forgot to feed my own soul [sigh]. And as I sit here at the desk, mentally reviewing a long list of things I still want to accomplish, I understand that NOW is my time to go for a run…to forget about the chores and missing library books and what to make for dinner. NOW is the time to say that I am worth it; that I am in need of some “Kelly Time.”

So, as of this moment right now, a 4 mile run moves up to the top of my To Do list. Everything else can wait.

At the top of my “I Am Thankful For…” list is this website. I am most content when my days and weeks include running, yoga and writing, and my heart smiles when I am following my passions. Loving The Run takes all these things and adds the cool factor of getting to know you, my readers.

I am definitely blessed.

To make your own Thanksgiving Tree (using items from around the house), gather together a vase, a pretty wine bag, rocks to hold the branch in place, a branch, ribbon, colored paper, scissors and a hole punch. I found a leaf template online and printed on colored paper (I happened to have metallic-colored card stock). It’s a super easy project that leads into a great discussion with the kids about gratitude.

What are you thankful for his season? How are you leading your children into a season of thankfulness?

It was an intense undergraduate honors program, where the discussions were Socratic in nature. There were no multiple-choice exams.  The answers we sought – and often the questions we asked – were never black and white.

It was an incredible opportunity for learning…but I dropped out the end of the first year (of the honors program, not college). I just couldn’t rise to what was expected of me.

Looking back, I think my brain wasn’t wired then for the type of learning this program advanced. Instead, I thrived in memorizing the right answers and then being graded on what was appropriately cataloged in my recollection.

Fast forward to today, where my mind has been expanded by life experiences, not just in the knowledge of facts, but in the understanding of how I think. My potential for thinking ‘outside-the-box’ is vast. The boundaries of thought I once had are less fixed. In so many ways, I think bigger, deeper, and grander.

At 33 years of age, I’d love to once again be accepted into that college honors program. In fact, I think I’d be a star student.

Intellectual stagnation is scary, and I’m glad to recognize the evolution of my mind. What I find bizarre, however, is how closely I can relate what happened my first year of college to how I have matured as a life-runner.

I once plotted out my marathon and half marathon training schedules. With great precision, I tracked every mile and researched the drills needed in order to grow faster and stronger. Similar to how I began college, I liked the exactness of training. I liked the black and white approach. Do [insert drill or training plan] so many times a week and see improvement.

Fast forward to today, where my understanding of why I run has matured and developed in amazing ways. This is so, partly because instead of valuing myself as a runner based on the number of miles and calculated intensity of workouts, I now grasp how the parts of running and yoga and God and personal growth create within me a very happy, healthy whole. I even deactivated my Daily Mile account this week (seriously, even though I was doing a great deal of yoga, the weekly miles of *ZERO* were bugging me and messing with my “am-I-still-a-runner” thought process).

Yes, I still run. But these days – this year anyway – I see racing, not as the desired end result, but running as complementary to my overarching desire to be at peace within my soul.

I wonder if there is a running honors program…