There are a lot of things about me that COULD define me:

Mother. Daughter. Sister. Nurse. Firefighter. Hazmat Technician. Teacher. Instructor. Girlfriend. Wife. Planner. Divorcee. Lover. Cook. Chauffeur. Speaker. Renovator. Builder. Gardener. Typist extraordinaire. Blogger. Runner. Swimmer. Weightlifter. Biker. Piano player. Comedienne. Competitive. Encourager. Prayer warrior. Dreamer. Entrepreneur. Seamstress. SME. Reader. Plant magic user (aka Young Living Oils). Herbalist. Healer. Survivor.

These are just small aspects of my life. Like facets of a diamond, they add dimension and clarity to who I may be, but not one single word above solely defines me as a person.

The past few days have been rough, I cannot lie. If you read my last post, you’ll have a clue. Grief is different for everyone, depending on the loss. The grief I experience with my son is completely different than that which I experienced with my dad. Two different people, two different relationships. There are times I barely remember when my father passed — we really had no connection.

Today, I just wanted to stay in bed with the covers over my head and sleep. But I had a plan. I had put my running clothes out last night — chosen carefully. Things I love — the tank top that states, “Actually, I can.” My favorite running shoes. A special pair of running shorts. A comfy purple sports bra. A pair of green toe socks with bloodshot eyes on them that make me laugh and a second pair of green socks to wear over them for extra padding. All things that are comfortable, make me smile or laugh and just give my run a little extra something. Today’s run wasn’t about time or pace. It wasn’t about the music I listened to (which was only partially during the run.) It wasn’t about the distance.

Today’s run was about feeling my body move. Listening to the sound of my inhale and exhale. Hearing the songs of the birds and the critters. Seeing the squirrels, the cardinals, the box turtle and the dogs that were walking their owners. Today was about reveling in the sun and enjoying the shade, identifying the different types of trees, plants, flowers and the spray painted cracks in the trail (placed there for the bike races). It was about running past another female and high-fiving each other because we’re out there pushing thru the heat, sweat, and discomfort to be better. Today’s run was about life and experiencing it in as many forms as possible as a reminder that grief is for a season, but life goes on. It was about laughing as I got inside, stripping my sweaty clothes off and throwing them in the washer just inside the door, then running naked up the stairs and standing in front of the AC with a bottle of water before lying on the Yoga mat and stretching while, once again, I listened to my breathing and felt my heartrate decrease. It was a deep guttural humming with each exhalation as I felt my muscles relax with the stretching.

Life is a beautiful thing. Not everyone gets to live it. Some are alive, but not truly living. Held back by fear or worry. Held back by medical conditions or illnesses. Others are held back by their own perceptions that they “can’t” do something while on the other hand there are those who fight the odds to live as full a life as possible and put the more able-bodied of us to shame.

Yes, grief in vivid technicolor is an annual event, but life is a minute-by-minute event and it’s up to me to live it as completely and fully as possible. So far my ability to survive the worst days and come out alive is 100% and those odds are pretty good.

Now it’s your turn . . . go forth and LIVE OUT LOUD!

P. S. I only dropped 10 seconds from my pace even though that was not the key point. Did you really think I wasn’t going to track it? LOL!! Go back to the beginning and read thru those descriptive words if you missed it. I’m competitive, even against myself. Go rock your day guys!