When Fear Gets In The Way

One of my favorite things about running is my time alone. In the summer many of my runs are done as the sun is rising and morning mist meets the grass. I love the way the sunlight reflects off of it, tiny beads of water that shine like lights. The early morning sky displaying colors of pinks and reds painting the sky with it's beauty. I love the stillness in the air; the only sound is my feet on the pavement and the sound of my breath. I have said it before, the road is my church.

What happens when fear gets in the way of those runs? When it starts to scare you before you even get out there; fear that you are not safe. I practice safety on all my runs. If it is early I am sure to run main roads or neighborhoods I am familiar with. I carry mace with me in my running belt along with my phone. I am a strong woman yet that does not mean I am safe. None of it does. You can practice safety each and every day, on every run. Evil is out there and sadly none of us are ever truly safe. 

I had just finished a eight and a half mile run on Saturday morning. I was just around the corner from my house. I was so close! I had a great run this morning. I had set out to do five but found myself farther out than I had planned. I would be heading with my family to Rhode Island for the night for my bestie and her hubby's epic summer party they throw every year. I was in a wonderful mood and feeling happy. A gold car drove by soon after I finished my run. I couldn't tell you what make or model it was, but I am sure I could point it out again if I saw it. The car beeped and waved. I thought it was someone I may know in town and without hesitation I waved back. I didn't think much of it in the moment, I am a friendly person and returning a hello is important to me. (BTW, I hate when other runners don't say HI! Big pet peeve!) 

I was a few hundred yards away from where I needed to turn to get to my street when the car had turned around and was waiting at the intersection. Right away I felt nervous. Something didn't feel right to me and I can usually trust my gut. The man who was around my age, maybe a little younger, called out asking if I was Tanya. I replied no to which he creepily responded : "That's too bad." WTF! What did that even mean. I continued to walk which was only bringing me closer to the car. There was no traffic. No other walkers or runners. I felt so far from my house even though it was just around the corner. He then asked me how my run was. He started babbling about what a nice morning it was. I am not sure I heard everything he was saying. I was nervous. I didn't trust him. I did have my phone in my hand and was trying to figure out in my head what I would do if he got out of his car. It felt like ten minutes when in reality it was probably more like two or three minutes. Then he decided to drive off. He was gone and I was safe.

Who knows if this person had any intent. I hate to think that every person out there is bad, but reality is I need to be cautious, we all need to be cautious. I wish we lived in a world where there was more trust yet sadly we don't. The recent tragedies of fellow runners Alexandra Nicolette Bruger, Karina Vetrano, and Vanessa Marcotte hit close to home. All three were amazing women with so much ahead of them. Strong, independent and aspiring women who were taken from their loved ones. That could be any one of us out there running. Those women are more than just names that flash across the screen. They left their houses that day to embrace their time on the road. The one place they most likely felt at home was taken from them. They were taken from their family, their friends and from the running community. My heart aches for their families and the pain they have endured over the way these women lost their lives so unfairly.

Yes, their tragedies have put fear into me. As women runners I believe we are more of a target than male runners. Sadly, no matter how strong or fierce of the woman, evil itself is a strong force. As a woman runner I will not let this stop me from running, yet I will be sure that I do what I can to keep myself safe. I will do my best to be mindful. And always, trust my gut.

A few things we should always practice: Always carry mace! Tell your loved ones where you are running. Switch up your routes when you run. Be sure to have a phone with you. Run in areas where you will always be seen. 

I vow not to let anyone ever take my passion of running away. I would like to think I will be one of those old ladies still doing 5K's when she is 80. Will I let fear get in the way? No, I will allow it to make me more cautious and practice safety. Fear will not take away what is important to me. Running is far more to me than just a way to stay in shape. It is where I find peace and solace. Running is where I can reflect and take the time to appreciate life and all it has given. The road is my safety blanket, the one place I can be and really connect with who I am. It is where I can give back to myself while being grateful that I am able to run. Nothing can take that away from me!


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Running Away From Fear

I run for many reasons. Each run is different, unique and my intention for each run changes from one run to another. Some runs I do for me and solely me. There are days I run to clear my head and find focus in my life. Other times I run simply for the joy of running; to become one with that feeling of being free. To feel strong and empowered. Then there are times I run to escape something. For the past couple of weeks I spent the majority of my runs running away from fear.

My five year old son developed and umbilical hernia when he was around five weeks old. I wasn't alarmed at first as I knew what it was. It continued to grow in size and by the time he was eight weeks old we were seeing a pediatric surgeon for evaluation. Approximately 15 to 20 percent of babies are born with an umbilical hernia. From that very first visit the surgeon informed us that most children with umbilical hernias have them spontaneously resolve on their own by the time they are five. If the hernia does not resolve by the age of five it is recommended to have the hernia surgically repaired. For five years we visited our surgeon with the hopes that it would close on its own. Unfortunately for my son he was not one of the lucky ones.

I scheduled surgery for Chase right before Christmas at our yearly recheck appointment. This gave us two months to prepare him and ourselves for surgery day. I stood at the front desk that day as the receptionist was going over everything feeling nauseous and fighting back the tears. Both my son's were right there and I was not going to let them see me upset. It was my job to be strong for Chase and I would vow that any tears I would shed would not be in front of him. I didn't want him feeding off me. I needed to hold it together and be his rock.

The next two  months we would casually bring it up. I wanted him to be as prepared as a five year old could be for surgery. The procedure itself would last under an hour and I was told I could be with him until he was anesthetized. Simple procedure or not, my son was still going to have to be put under anesthesia. Though I knew he would be in great hands it did not stop my mind from traveling to all the "what if's" that could happen under anesthesia. I am a Veterinary Technician and have spent plenty of time in surgery. It's always been one of my favorite places as a technician. Though animals and children are very different, the process of how anesthesia works is the same. I am fully aware that each patient can respond differently. I also know that risks for things to go wrong are low. Low or not, there are risks! As a mother it is difficult not to go to "those places" that scare you the most.

The two weeks prior to the procedure I felt out of control with my feelings. I was irritable, easily frustrated and feeling emotional. I couldn't wait for my husband to come home so I could get out the door and run. I talked about my fears some with my husband yet kept most of what I was feeling inside until I ran. I would run and try to process everything I was feeling. I felt like someone was suffocating me. I needed to try and get away from these feelings that were wrapping around me. I needed to run away from my fear.

The day before my son's surgery on my run I tried to fight back how scared I was. I couldn't do it any longer. I was trying so hard to be strong for my child and I needed to just let go. That last mile I could no longer fight the tears. The cold wind blew my salty tears from my face as I ran harder and faster. I was terrified and just wanted it all to be over. I needed that run that day. I needed to allow myself to feel the things that I feared.

Chase, with a smile during Pre-Operation

Chase was amazing the morning of surgery. Pro-Op procedures went well and he had a smile on his face most of the time. Everyone was amazing with him as well as kind and supportive to us. They let me lay in a hospital bed with Chase and they wheeled us both to the OR. I can't even imagine what what going through his head. I am not sure I could even process what I was feeling being wheeled down halls and around corners to reach our destination. Once in the OR it was time to begin anesthetizing my son. I wrapped my arms around him as he took his first breaths like a champ. It was within a minute he started to respond to the anesthesia and his arms and legs started to flail. This is normal and I knew that. Still, holding your child as their tiny body soon goes limp in your arms is a feeling I never want to have again. Even worse, having them being taken from your arms and placed on an operating table and you having to walk away.

Walking away from him was the hardest thing I had ever done! My chest felt heavy, it was as though someone was squeezing my heart and refusing to let go. As I was escorted back to the Pre-Op room I felt like he was a million miles away. I wanted to run back and grab him. I felt helpless and alone. All I wanted to do was hold him, touch him and know he could feel my love. 

I sat in a chair in the lobby of the hospital clutching onto his favorite blankie and his new Paw Patrol dog ("Chase" of course!) that we had given him that morning in the car before entering the hospital. I cried and though my husband was right there with me I felt like I was alone in a crowded room and no one could even see me. If I pause for a moment I can still connect with that feeling and I hate it. I never want to feel that way again!

Within an hour we met with the surgeon who escorted us to go see Chase. As we walked he talked about the surgery and recovery. I am not sure I really heard much of what he said for all I needed to know was that he was OK. The first sight of him he was still sleeping wrapped in white blankets and surrounded by pillows to keep him warm. His temp was low and they were trying to warm him up. He looked so little and helpless. For a moment it was like looking at him for the very first time again. As if I had just given birth to this amazing creature all over again. He was here, he was OK, and soon I would be bringing him home and this will all be a distant memory.

I am fortunate that my children are healthy. I commend each and every parent who has to go through things far worse and ugly than we did. My child is healthy and I will watch him grow, thrive and be a strong man. Some are not as fortunate. Other parents endure surgery after surgery or have to stand by and be strong while watching their child go through chemo or some other ailment. To those of you parents, I admire your strength and courage. I will never take for granted how very lucky I am for my children. I thank God for this amazing journey I am able to take with my husband. Being a mother to my two boys is the most amazing blessing I have ever been given. I can't imagine living without my loves.

Chase is one amazing and brave young boy. I admire his strength through all of this. He makes me so proud and this whole thing makes me feel closer to him. It's astounding what kids can endure. Children are resilient, fearless, and merciful. 

Saturday morning Chase was feeling well enough that I felt comfortable heading out for a run. I ran for the first time in weeks with a sense of freedom. I felt grateful, relieved and had an amazing run. I was no longer running from fear, I was running out of gratitude and happiness. I was able to smile and breathe instead of battling emotions I had no idea how to handle. With each step I felt like I was floating above the pavement, this run was exactly what I needed. Next time fear decides to come around it better just turn around and head in another direction. Fear can't catch me, I am way too fast!



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Making Time For Me Without The Fear And Guilt

Now that I have children most everything I do revolves around them. I can't take a piss or even wipe my ass by myself. Shopping means I do it with two little creatures with me, some days I feel like I have a circus of monkeys with me. I even share my bed with one of them, he sleeps comfortably in the middle as I hang on for dear life on the edge. I am not complaining, I wouldn't have it any other way. I wished them, dreamed of them, and finally was blessed with them. 

The one thing that I have neglected as a mother is myself. I have lost a piece of me in this new role as mom and forgotten who that other girl was years ago. Believe me, parts of her are better left in the past. Yet underneath all the laundry, diapers, and matchbox cars there is a woman who needs to take time for herself.

It is so easy to get lost in everyday routine and forget how important it is to do things for yourself. For me this is what running has become to me. It serves as my therapy, my church, and my personal time to reflect. It is my time to give back something to myself. I need to get out there and I make the time to do it. I don't go out much and most of the time I see my friends it is with small children in tow. We call them "Play dates" but really they should be called "Mommy arranged this so you could go play and mommy can have an adult conversation". Okay, so that is a little long. We could just refer to it as a "Mommy Date".  I remember a girl who use to love being on a dance floor until the bars closed. I didn't have to worry about waking early to change diapers and do obscene amounts of laundry. That girl always made time for herself. 

My children have made me a new woman. I keep learning new things about her along the way. This woman hates being away from her children. They come first and I don't even have to think twice about it. Being away from them makes my heart feel heavy; as though there is this gigantic empty space within me when they are not there. 

I am getting better at being away from them. Two weeks ago my husband and I had date night. It felt freeing that I was able to go enjoy some quality time with him without worrying how the boys were and not rushing to eat my food and get down a couple of drinks before getting back to them. This weekend I also went out to dinner with three of my dear friends. Just four women sitting in a nice restaurant enjoying one another's company. Four mom's who love their children immensely yet also need one another.

I love being with my children yet I also need to have healthy and happy relationships with my husband and my close friends. This means taking the time to spend with these people without my children around. Most importantly, it is remembering that it is OK to take time away from them. Going for a run, going out on a date or spending time with my girlfriends is not selfish. Doing these things are essential to being a better mother.

I need to take care of myself and do things that make me happy. I need to honor the woman I am and allow myself to do things without my children. A part of me feels that there will be plenty of time when they are out of the house someday and right now I need to soak up as much of them as I can. This is true, they are only little once. This is where the guilt comes in when I am away. Then my mind takes me to crazy places. I am terrified of something happening to them if I am not there. Then there are times when I am without them I fear something will happen to me and I won't be able to be there for them. I can't imagine life without my children and I never want to leave them without a mother.

It's that fear that makes it difficult for me to walk out the door. That same fear that tugs at me saying I don't need to go out. I am working on overcoming that fear and living my life without it. I just can't help my mind going to these places. When I do I feel my heart tighten and it feels like someone is standing on my chest. The tears collect in my eyes as I try to blink the images away from my mind and breathe. 

Fear will not win this battle. I will continue to do my best to be thankful for each and every moment I have with my children. I will enjoy their laughter and screeches of joy. I will make memories and share moments with them that we will talk about for years to come. I will also try harder to make more time for myself. It doesn't always have to be going out. It can be as simple as taking time to read a book or going for that run. 

Making memories with our children and being happy means mommy needs to be happy too. We have to remember that in order to take care of these little creatures we have to first take care of ourselves. If we want happy, healthy children we have to live that. We are the most important examples they see. Our children learn so much by watching us. Our children become reflections of who we are.

I am working on it, but I vow to try to be better about taking more time for me. I want to be the best I can be for my children so I will be sure to take time to do some of the things that make me happy, without the fear or guilt. I will go for my runs and lose myself in the steps I take. I will make sure my husband and I take the time for one another because one day it will be back to him and I. I will make more dates with my girlfriends so we can laugh about this chaotic ride called motherhood. I deserve it!

Love, Compassion, Trust & Safety: Where did it go?

I am not into TV. I could pretty much do without it. If the TV is on in the living room while I am home it is usually Disney Junior that is on. When I do watch TV it is at night time when I am laying in bed waiting for sleep to take me to a happy place. I pretty much go between three shows: Big Bang Theory, Pawn Stars or anything on ID (Investigation Discovery). Some nights I need to laugh. Some nights I need brain stimulation (I love seeing all the old things that come into the pawn shop and the history behind it). Then there are those nights I need some intrigue. I am hooked on ID! Shows like Swamp Murders, Evil Kin, Dateline, Blood Relatives, Nightmare Next Door, and the new one: Surviving Evil. Most of these shows come with some pretty disturbing details. Some sad,others down right unbelievably heartbreaking. Yet I am drawn to these shows.

They say it is like a train wreck, you just can't help but watch. Part of it is the excitement of catching the bad guy in the end. It does terrify me that such evil lurks in some people. I have fucked up dreams sometimes after watching an episode of one of these shows. One time I had a dream that Jason killed someone and cut them into pieces and burned their body.  Years later he was caught but as his partner I kept it a secret. Just last week I had another dream that an one of my clients, from a previous clinic I use to work at, held me and some friends hostage and attempted to kill us all with an injection of something pink. I woke up right before it was going to be my turn. WTF right! Maybe I should stop watching thee shows. Yeah, probably not likely to happen.

What it has also done is instill into me that people are untrustworthy. You never really know a person do you? It is always in some small, safe town that these kidnapping and murders seems to occur. A neighbor, a co worker and even your partner that you have always trusted. Everyone has a deep, dark secret.

The first day Chase went to preschool a couple of weeks back I got a knock at the door. I typically do not answer the door if I am not expecting someone. I always try to see if I can see the person from the window. I couldn't this day and for some reason decided to open the door. It was a young girl selling a Kirby vacuum who asked if she could have a few minutes of my time. (By the way, what they really mean is can I steal 25 minutes of precious time from you). Since this girl seemed nice enough and had the awful job of going door to door selling a vacuum, (Yeah, I know, her choice) I invited her in to do her presentation. Maybe it was because I was feeling emotional, who the fuck knows. Or maybe it was because she brought a little basket of food as a thank you for inviting her in (Hey, it was food! Don't judge!) As she was unpacking the ridiculously priced vacuum my head started spinning. Someone had dropped her off. What if this was all a plan to get in my house? Is she going to try to kill me and my baby? Should I go grab the phone? She looked like she was honest enough, but those are the ones that commit the crimes. Needless to say she did her presentation and left without pulling out a knife.

It happens at the store, when I go running, at random times. Those thoughts wondering if the creepy dude staring at me and my boys is going to follow me. The truck that is slowing down as I am running, is he going to grab me? Seriously, maybe I should stop watching those shows!

It also saddens me that the world has turned into a place like this. I fear having my children someday walking the streets or playing outside. When I was a child we would be outside all the time without supervision. I just can't wrap my head around sending my kids outside without me. What happened to mankind? What happened to love, compassion, trust and safety? I wish more for my children than having to fear the evil of others. I want my children to be able to live in a world where we don't have to lock our doors. I want my children to learn trust. It is my job to teach them love and raise them to be good men. To show them kindness and respect, and how to give that to others. I can only hope they make the right choices and that evil does not cross their paths.

Waiting to Exhale

Being a mommy of two boys has so many wonders. Especially at Chase's age. He is full of life and loves to explore. The child has no fear at all. He loves to climb, run, jump and give his mother heart palpation's. I find that I have begun to hold my breath at some moments waiting to exhale.

The simple joy of taking my son to the park has started to come with a bit of anxiety. There is a park near our house that Chase refers to as the "Big" park. Yes, there is another one near by he calls the "little" park. The big park is pretty cool but there are still things that worry me.

What if he loses his footing?

What is he misses a rail and falls?

He could break an arm? A leg?

Take a deep breath...he is almost to the top...phew... he did it

Then, he wants to do it again...and here comes that nauseous feeling again.

I get it, it is so good for him. Not to mention letting him explore and challenge himself teaches agility and confidence as well. For these reasons I try not to say no or let him see the fear I hold inside of me.

It's my mama bear instinct. I want to protect my children.

It is also my job though to let them spread their wings. To discover, to grow, to fly.

In motherhood there is so many moments of happiness and joy. The hold your breath moments, they surely challenge that. The playground is only the beginning. There will be endless moments when I hold my breath.

Pray.

Wait.

Then I will once again exhale.

I must remember the joy of it all. How this is not my journey and ride, but it is his.