Posts tagged as:

running

As of tomorrow, I will have been on summer break for exactly one month. Which is kind of terrifying, considering the fact that I’ve really done nothing but think. And worry. And repeat. And repeat, and repeat. And as I was engaging in this fun little pastime of mine the other day during one of my first days back outside lifeguarding (it wasn’t even warm enough to be swimming, but whatever.), I had a really incredible breakthrough: all of my worrying has gotten me pretty much nowhere. In fact, if anything, I think it’s gotten me closer to death by a heart attack, or possibly obesity since stress does in fact cause you (read: me) to eat more (especially things like vegan cookies, or veggie pizza, for example. Not like I did this.). Indeed, I have solved absolutely nothing by worrying or writing really complicated blog posts about it. I figured that the more I worried and thought about it, I would surely come out the other end with my life totally planned out, and everything would be perfect: I’d have my grad school chosen, I’d know where I was going to live, where I would work, what my clothes would look like, the name of my future pet Goldendoodle when Shadow passes away (thinking about naming it after him, if said dog is a male), and I would know exactly what kind of girl I would be. That was my logic behind my non-stop worrying, anyway: that it would help me figure out the answers to all the unknowns of my future. I mean, there are a lot of things I’m scared of happening: I won’t stay true to myself, I won’t have the courage to go after my dreams, my Goldendoodle and I will live with my parents (okay, I’m not seriously afraid of this happening. But you get my point.). Non-stop worrying is my way of “preventing” or at least, my attempt at preventing, my worst nightmares from unfolding in my future life.

My mom told me that I could have things all planned out, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s how my life will end up playing out. Indeed, rather than being so anxious about the “what if’s” that probably will never happen, maybe it’s time I start embracing the fact that I have no idea what’s going to happen down to the very last detail. And that that’s okay: “When nothing is sure, everything is possible.” Everything! But sitting around, wasting my summer and energy on worrying and trying to figure out the future isn’t going to make that “everything”, those possibilities, into a life I love. If anything, worrying is just going to make things worse and more confusing and make me a miserable mess. And I’ll end up dying an early death on top of it all, from that heart attack mentioned earlier.

So. If you’re feeling pressure to have it all figured out, or you’re scared about what’s ahead of you, don’t be! No need to over think the future (like me)—just trust yourself. Follow your heart, your head, and, at times, your digestive system (I’ve found it’s a pretty good indicator when something isn’t right). Don’t worry about others. Know that the future will turn out to be probably way more amazing and different than those plans you stressed so much about making. Breathe. It’ll all be okay.

Now. I’m done. I promise. No more stressed out, obnoxiously long blog posts on this topic. You’re sick of it, I’m sick of it. And anyway, my skin is turning gold again! The sun is shining! New music is coming out! There are cookies to be made and eaten (but not because of stress)! There are runs to run! Let’s move on, shall we?

I’m ready.

-Carly

“I Need Fun in My Life” by The Drums

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The last blog post of the semester. Before you read on, I would highly, highly recommend you listen to this song, which the title of my post is derived from. For one, because it’s so beautiful, I think, and two, because things will make more sense if you do. I’ve been listening to it a lot lately, thinking, singing along, crying. Wondering why I’m here, where I’m meant to go, who I’m supposed to be. And if I’m anywhere close to those things.

“You had to find it…”

I guess you could say that’s what this year has been all about for me: finding myself. Finding myself, and, as of late, being not just okay, but proud of the girl I find. I found myself at the beginning of the year through running again, training for my second half marathon. I found myself on those Long Slow Runs (oh, how I long to be up to running for two hours, nonstop again! The thinking I could accomplish! The (legal, running-induced) high I would get!): I discovered a girl with chafe marks in weird places, a purple toenail (oh, how I long for it to turn that color again! The mark of a real runner!), blisters, and a pretty mean appetite for homemade chocolate chip cookies. I loved that girl. But then, after the race, I kind of sank into a funk. I stopped running. I let dietetics stress take over my life and my fire was put out. I didn’t sweat in the morning but slept instead. So, over winter break, I found myself sad and anxious. Like to the point of stress-vom anxious. Unhappy with myself and the fact that I took the easy way out.

“To recreate us…”

Then, to make my nausea worse, I decided to make the Big Change. I wasn’t happy in dietetics. Something wasn’t right. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but I knew it wasn’t me. So I decided to give in to that tiny voice in my heart and run with it. For weeks I cried and worried and wondered if I had made the stupidest decision of my life. At midnight, the night after I changed my major, I emailed my old advisor asking if I could go back to dietetics. But I held on through the uncertainties and didn’t go back, instead staying true to that voice as I tried to figure out what I was going to do with my life. I kept moving forward.

Enter the Lenten season. I was done at this point. Done with making excuses for not running. For not talking to people. For being so hateful to myself and unable to accept whom I was. For eating more than I probably should for somebody not running. And during the course of those forty days, the same messages kept coming up: I needed to stop selling myself short. I knew I was better than the girl I was pretending to be. I knew the Real Me was buried somewhere under the fears and anxieties. So I made it my mission to recreate myself, to unearth that girl.

“All things grow, all things grow…”

I started running again. Not only did I start running again, but I took things a little further. I started running with a group of strangers, even though I was scared to. And slowly, I’m beginning to see flashes of the Real Me, every time I hit the road again: I feel stronger. I feel happy. I feel like a Real Runner. But most of all, I feel happy, ridiculously happy. Happy to be blessed with such a full life, with legs that can carry me as far as I want. Happy to be, well…me. Nobody else but me.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, in my mind…”

Spoiler alert: I’m not perfect. I eat too many cookies (although, I have modified them enough and last weekend successfully made them vegan. BAM.), I skip runs, I cry a lot, I prefer wearing my brother’s really old super ugly sweatpants from who knows when over jeans (my mom HATES that I do this), I’m a little too honest on this blog (however, it is free of grammatical errors, so I have that going for me), and I get scared to try new things and meet new people. Sometimes, like this winter, I find myself in a rut. But I’ve discovered this year that my imperfections and my ruts that I find myself in are the best gifts in the world, in a way. They force me to question myself, to really grow and become who I’m supposed to be. The unhappiness I’ve faced this semester has led me down paths that I am so grateful to have gone down: I’ve discovered comfort through running far, my unhappiness in my major led me to switch, my unhappiness with who I’ve been throughout my college career has led me to ask myself if I’m really living up to my full potential, and if I really give myself enough credit for the person I am and the things I’m capable of doing.

While I know what I want to be when I grow up now (!!! So happy), I still have lots of questions. Where will I live? Vermont? Boulder? Denver? Oregon? Washington? Or will I stay here? Am I selling myself short by staying here, when I know how badly I long to be somewhere open and natural that makes me feel full, as nature tends to do? These are the questions that have been plaguing me these past few days for some reason. What do I really want out of the life and the potential that stretches before me as I come to the close of yet another chapter in my undergraduate education? What does the Real Me wish for? And will I have the courage, like I did in making the Big Change, to stay true to the Real Me and follow her desires, no matter how scared I might be to do so?

I wish I knew how to un-awkwardly close this big, thoughtful post. But I don’t. All I can say is that I’m grateful for this year: for the ups and for the downs. For the tears, for the gigantic smiles, for the questions, for the answers. For revealing to me, in the weirdest ways, the girl I’m supposed to be.

And for helping me to finally realize just how much I love her.

“All things go, all things go.”

-Carly

“Chicago [Acoustic]” by Sufjan Stevens

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Aaah, the old Comfort Zone. I love it for obvious reasons (it’s comfortable), but I also have come to absolutely despise it over the past few weeks as I spent a ton of time reflecting on my life during the Lenten season. As much as I hate to admit it, my Comfort Zone has me wrapped around its finger, and I’ve never realized just how bad the situation was until just now, when I forced myself to look it in the eye.

Last week, I found myself in my new advisor’s office planning my schedule for next year (physics 1, calc 2, cell and molec, genetics, and bio seminar). Next year, that is, my senior year. AKA my LAST YEAR AT FONTBONNE. Cue “quarter of my life” crisis. No, this time my crisis is not so much about what I want to do with my life in the sense of “Oh, what do I want to be when I grow up?” (because I’m pretty sure I have an idea about that, though I don’t want to share it because it will be different tomorrow). Rather, this crisis is about all of the smaller things I want to do with my life but haven’t done because doing so would be out of my Comfort Zone. So instead of stepping into the unknown, I’ve taken the easy way out during my time in college: staying in my room to study something I’ve studied for five hours that day already, going home every weekend to study it some more instead of using that time to explore all of the places in St. Louis I’ve wanted to explore but never quite had the nerve to go check out for fear of somehow making a fool of myself (Not sure how I would make a fool of myself doing this, but I suppose that’s just the irrationality of my fears speaking.).

So. I kept telling myself, “Grad school! Then I will move out West like I dream of doing, and I’ll be that super awesome, super fit, outdoorsy person who runs marathons and triathlons and doesn’t wimp out of a three miler because it’s too cold or too windy or the cicadas are out! I will be that person who isn’t afraid to go out and spontaneously try new and adventurous things!” Blah, blah, blah.

But you know what? I’m pretty sure that’s what I said in high school (Okay, I didn’t like to run back then, but that’s beside the point). NO. I’m not waiting for Grad school anymore. Grad school may never come: I could get hit by a car while running on the one day I don’t wimp out of a workout. And anyhow, I have a suspicion that once I’m in Grad school, the situation won’t be all that different. I’ll be saying things like, “Oh, tomorrow I’ll start living the life I’ve imagined.” So you know what I’ve decided? The time is NOW. It’s time to let go of my Comfort Zone and do what I want to do already, because frankly, this is getting ridiculous.

You know how they say that you should sign up for a big race then post it everywhere (Facebook, Twitter, etc.) to hold yourself accountable? Well, I’m about to do it here. Yesterday, as I was at my hometown’s community center for my bike workout (another Zone I must bust out of), I saw a flier for a sprint triathlon on May 18th. Last spring break my dad bought me an expensive road bike which has been sitting patiently in my dorm, waiting for this moment: the moment when I decided to shed my Comfort Zone and take it out for a real training ride in Forest Park, unafraid of looking like a total newbie putt-putting around on her bike.

I have officially decided that I’m going to do it. I’m going to train and make myself into a real triathlete, starting this week.

With all of this being said, I dare you to stop me next time you see me and say, “Oh hey Carly, how’s the triathlon training coming along? Did you brick today? Please, fill me in on your workout.” Do it! Hold me accountable! Make me uncomfortable!
(Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll look for a girl with straight-across bangs. If that’s the case, good luck finding me.)

I haven’t added any grand, dramatic quotes to my more recent blogs. So that means I’m overdue for a quote here. Well, as the tire-cover-thingy of this jeep in front of me so elegantly said I was driving back from yet another weekend at home:

“One life. Live it.”

Enjoy your winter break, everyone! Go do something outrageous.

-Carly

“New Year” by Beach House

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As cliché as it may sound, if there’s one thing I’ve learned during the course of my time in college so far, it’s that this really is a time of self-discovery. If you had told the straight across bangs-sporting, ballet dancing, high school version of myself that once I went to university, I would quit ballet, start running, drastically change my diet a few times, wear some weird outfits (which make me cringe just thinking about them), and, just days before the second semester of my junior year is to begin, change my major, I would have never believed you. Alas, that is what’s happened. I favor running tights over pink, mesh Capezios now. The products of food science terrify me, so I eat plants instead. And, as of Friday, January 11, 2013, at around noon, I am no longer a dietetics major double-minoring in chemistry and biology. Rather, I am now a biology major, single-minoring in chemistry.

My winter break was pretty weird, thank you. It all began with a trip down memory lane that left me sad, confused, and more emotional than usual (I blame the influx of white sugar in my system for these feelings, however, due to too many holiday treats, but whatever.). After my finals, I drove back home to watch my old ballet school perform “The Nutcracker” as is done every other year. My old friend Lauren, who’s a senior this year, was dancing the lead of Sugar Plum, as I had my junior year in high school. As soon as she got out there, I burst into tears for unknown reasons. After the show, I continued to cry and hug her, like an insane member of her fan club or something. For some reason, anytime I thought about the show during the following weeks, my stomach began to churn. I lost my appetite, and almost lost my stomach contents as well on more occasions than I care to recall. I cried. And I couldn’t understand why.

I quit ballet my freshman year in college. There was this tiny voice in my head asking me, ““Hey Carly, do you really want to spend three days a week in a leotard surrounded by skinny twelve-year-olds who can fouette circles around you when you’re supposed to be a mature college student?” I was at one of the most prestigious ballet schools in St. Louis, and, because I wasn’t as good as the other dancers, was placed in, I kid you not, the twelve-year-old level. (They’re THAT good.) Something wasn’t right though. I wasn’t happy. I wanted to skip class. I wanted so desperately to move on with my life. So, feeling scared, I took the leap and left.

Fast-forward to my junior-year self, happy with my decision to leave ballet. I loved to run! I loved to bike! I loved food! I was a spectroscopy superstar (don’t be jealous)! Oh, what fun it is to discover your true self! But things weren’t all perfect. The little voice inside my head was back, as I worked on my dietetics homework. As I met with a partner for a group project. As I thought about the upcoming semester and the dietetics classes that I would be taking that I was secretly dreading. “Hey Carly, don’t you think you’d be better off doing something else?”

So over Christmas break, I began flirting with the voice yet again. It tempted me: “You quit ballet, and look at all of the good things that resulted. If you quit your major, who knows what good would result?” The voice hadn’t led me astray the first time, I reasoned, so why should I doubt its wisdom in this case? So, that Friday, I made the leap. Friday night a different voice led me to send a panicky email at midnight to my old advisor (titled “SOS” and marked with the urgent red exclamation mark…I was so not going to regret that message…) telling her I had made a mistake and, could I please come back to the dietetics department? But then, after days of crying and worrying, I’ve come up with an awesome list of all the things I’m passionate about and all of the dreams I hope to pursue as a professional someday. And I know that once again, the voice has led me back down the right path.

So. I’ve learned over the past five to seven weeks or so that it’s okay to question your path. I spent weeks feeling depressed about the fact that my time as a ballerina is over. I could go back to dancing, yeah, but I don’t want to, really. I love to run and I love to do yoga and bike. I’ve also learned that, while it may not be apparent at first, once the stress of making a major decision clears, things do begin to fall into place, and you become the person you’re really meant to be. I may have been worried at first about becoming a biology major once and for all, but now I feel really, really good about it. I can’t wait to see what adventures the semester brings! I can’t wait to see who I can become and the things I can do! I trust myself now. As one of my most favorite Thoreau quotes goes:

“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve imagined.”

I have a feeling that the life I’ve imagined is getting closer with each risk I take…

Welcome back and happy New Year, everyone.

-Carly

“All Figured Out” by: Tanlines

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Hello is anyone out there?

by Ann November 5, 2012

I am selfish and self centered.  But I am curious, does anyone read my blog posts? I love to write but don’t write often enough. Writers write, so that is why I have undertaken the task of contributing to this blog. Really I should not care what others think, but I totally wondered, is anyone [...]

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Post Half-Marathon Thoughts.

by Carly October 22, 2012

If you’re a loyal follower of my blog, surely you remember my overjoyed post about my first half marathon, which I ran in April. My time was a disappointment, but the experience definitely wasn’t. And I think of all the obnoxious pictures of me as I’m crossing the finish line are proof that, although I [...]

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You Set the Tempo, Set the Pace.

by Carly April 16, 2012

You Know You’re a Runner When… 1.)  You can devour a whole stack of pancakes (and the side of bacon you requested, too) from Crepes Etc. without feeling like a total fatty because, hey, you just ran 13.1 miles and need to “restore your glycogen reserves.” 2.)  Hills don’t intimidate you whatsoever. 3.)  Your runs [...]

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Reckless and Relentless

by Marielle April 16, 2012

If someone had told me last Friday night that I would be running in the Go! St. Louis Marathon on Sunday, I would have had a hearty chortle and dismissed the idea as preposterous. Why, I’ve just finished a track meet! I’m not even registered to run on Sunday! Sure, it sounds like a good [...]

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Running in St. Louis.

by Doug March 20, 2012

My wife and I started running in January. We decided we wanted to run a marathon, so we signed up for a half-marathon in Cincinnati in May, and we signed up for a full marathon in St. Louis in October! The marathon is a rock ‘n’ roll marathon, so it will have live bands playing while we [...]

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Real Love Had Not Quite Yet Found Me.

by Carly February 6, 2012

Okay, so I’ve decided to procrastinate out of sheer frustration with my chemistry homework. Currently, we are reading chapter 14, which is creatively entitled: “NMR Spectroscopy.” Enticed? I knew you would be. Quite frankly, I don’t understand how to identify chemical compounds utilizing IR, NMR, or any other acronym, for that mater. Give me a [...]

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