Running is love; love is running

I'm in love.

I've been mentioning lately how I've started back to running, slowly but surely. Well, this morning I did a course that I used to do on Fridays—my "short and easy" runs. Can I just say: it felt absolutely fabulous.

Sure, I wasn't going as fast as I wanted to (I'm definitely still playing the cautious card), but it was wonderful, nonetheless. After two months of misery and frustration, things seem to be falling back into place. Finally.

The whole time I was running this morning, I just kept thinking about how much I love running and how deeply I had missed it while I have been dealing with my stupid injury. It then occurred to me that this is how some people feel about other people—and I feel it about running. I'm not sure if there is something wrong with that, but I honestly didn't care at the time.

If you think I'm crazy for comparing running to the 1 Corinthians love passage from the Bible, then go ahead and stop reading, because I'm totally going to do it.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7

"Love is patient" (Not being able to run involved more patience than I've ever had to have, and I'm a teacher!!)

"Love is kind" (Running has always been so kind to me, and I feel I have returned the favor.)

"It does not envy" (I run with really fast people, and I don't envy them—I just respect them beyond belief.)

"It does not boast" (I don't brag about how fast or slow or long or short I run—I just run.)

"It is not proud" (The explanation for this is quite similar to the one previously mentioned.)

"It is not rude" (How could anyone think running is rude? Running is the antithesis of rude.)

"It is not self-seeking" (Running helps people—enough said.)

"It is not easily angered" (I find that running actually calms me down if I'm angry for whatever reason.)

"It keeps no records of wrongs" (When I hear this, all I can think of is a PR.)

"Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth" (Even when my friend Anil was dressed in a devil costume and running next to the athletes in a half-Ironman triathlon, the participants just kept running, and they were probably even more motivated with the epitome of evil running alongside them.)

"It always protects" (Not only does it protect people from getting out-of-shape, but it can also help you to be faster when running away from the boogie man.)

"always trusts" (I know I can always count on running to be there for me when I wake up in the morning. Even when I'm broken, it's still going to be there for me, and it won't ever turn its back on me.)

"always hopes" (During times of struggle, particularly injuries, there is always hope to be able to run again. There's always also the hope for another PR, another accomplished distance, another obstacle tackled.)

"always perseveres" (Just look at someone running and tell me if he or she does not define perseverance in that moment.)

Yes, I just wrote an entire blog entry about my love for running. What can I say? I missed it!

Maybe someday I will blog a love entry about a person, but this will suffice for now.

World Series weekend

This weekend was one I will definitely never forget.

For starters, history was made on Friday night. I've waited so many years for the Rangers to be a decent team. It's pretty painful watching them all spring, summer and then have them crash and burn in the fall. Actually, most years they crashed and burned in the summer months so that I knew that there really would be no meaningful fall ball.

But this year was so much different.

After seeing how much chemistry this team has had the past few years, I started predicting a World Series run back in spring training. Some people called me crazy, and that's fine. It wasn't the first time.

Who's crazy now?

I absolutely love this team, and I really think we are going to win the whole thing. It's so awesome how the team chose to celebrate with ginger ale rather than champagne so that Josh Hamilton could be part of it without any temptations. That's something that had to be planned and discussed prior to it happening. That's not just a team—that's a family. Plus, Ron Washington is one of the most quotable men in the history of America.

Bring it, Giants.

Moving on to Saturday, the day of the EPIC bash...

My friend LizRaz and I had planned to throw ourselves a birthday party last year, but multiple circumstances of life caused us to postpone it until this year. I'm glad we did, because we've become better friends with a lot of people since then, and they are the ones who truly made the night special. I had never had an actual birthday party, so it was great to be able to do so with the most amazing people I know.

Major props to GQ (the house host), Lufucifi (the planner), Anil (the music man and someone who has bumped up from fave five to top two!! :)), my siblings (they didn't really know anyone but still came) and, of course, LizRaz for being so awesome and making it all happen. Then there are all of our wonderful peeps who joined us. I honestly don't know how I found such awesome friends, but I'm definitely not giving them up!

Finally, I know that Monday doesn't really count as the weekend (in fact, it might be a sin to associate the two things with one another), but it is worthy to note that the new Taylor Swift album came out yesterday. Needless to say, it's beyond excellent.

"Horrified looks from everyone in the room, but I'm only looking at you..."

The journey back

I think I might be a runner again soon.

So, as I have said previously, I've been running on the Alter-G while suffering through this pelvic fracture issue. I started off only being able to run on 20 percent of my body weight. I rejoiced when I made it to 50 percent, and I thought I was going to cry (happy tears, of course) when I was able to run on 67 percent at six-minute per mile pace for six miles. Needless to say, I have been pretty pumped lately, and I was really looking forward to whatever workout I was supposed to have last night.

Then in walked the curse of germs.

Working at a public high school can have some negative side effects, one of which just happens to be overexposure to the germs and viruses that the precious little children bring with them in the building each day. Normally, I don't get sick often, but I usually have at least one unfortunate spell with the whole sore-throat-achy-body-stuffy-nose-pounding-head thing.

Welcome, Thursday morning.

The whole day was somewhat blurry and full of fatigue (possibly because of the NyQuil I took Wednesday night—that stuff will knock you out). I wasn't as excited as I should have been for Alter-G after work, but I decided I was going to go, anyway. With each hour, though, I started to dread more and more the idea of running stationary while my body ached and my nose ran probably faster than I had the energy to go. Ugh.

When I showed up, the doctor was still out-of-town, so his wife was running the show. She took one look at me and told me to leave. When I told her I really only came because I didn't want to break the 24-hour cancellation policy, she said this was exception and that she would not charge me for this session. Then she shooed me out the door—well, first she loaded me up with a can of soup and multiple packets of a Vitamin C supplement. Even though I think she might be on Speed, she cracks me up.

On the way home, I had this strange urge to stop at the Cooper Center and walk a few laps around the outdoor half-mile track. After one lap, I decided I was going to try jogging a bit. I said a quick prayer beforehand, something along the lines of: "Lord, please don't let me do anything that will hurt me more. Don't let me take this next step if it's going to be a stupid decision."

But I took that step.

The next thing I knew, I was running—I ran a whole mile on my full body weight. It felt amazing. I hadn't run in so long, and I missed it terribly. Even though it was pretty slow and extremely short, it was perfection.

This morning, I went to a school track and ran 1.5 miles. Baby steps.

Maybe I always was still a runner, but I'm now on the journey back.

A waiting game

I have learned throughout my years that patience really is a virtue.

There are too many things in life for which we have to wait—some of them that are actually worth it, while others are simply a waste of time. Either way, there sure is a lot of waiting to be done.

I remember times when I was a little kid waiting for my mom to get home to take me somewhere. When it was to some place about which I was incredibly excited, I would go to the window and part the blinds almost every 42 seconds or so just to see if I could catch a glimpse of her red Suburban coming down our street. I think doing that almost made it worse—it made the wait seem that much longer.

Then there was the time in college when I went to the emergency room with pancreatitis (before I found out it was chronic), and I was in the waiting room so long that I curled up into a ball on the floor because of the pain. I had been waiting too long, and the wait seemed endless. Finally, they moved me into a separate room. Oh, wait, it was just another waiting room, but this one was just secluded so that people didn't continue to stare at me in my roly poly form. I waited for what seemed like an eternity in this room until they finally came and got me.

Recently, I've had to wait on a fracture to heal, which has been rather frustrating. But, thankfully, I can finally start running again soon—so long as there is ABSOLUTELY no pain involved. I have to wait for that to happen.

I have waited years upon years to cheer for a decent baseball team. Finally, the Rangers have come alive! It truly makes all those painful years of watching them fail every season fizzle away (well, sort of—actually, maybe they are still there, but this is so much better). Is it possible that DFW is finished waiting for a World Series? Good gosh, I hope so. That line of patience really is wearing thin.

Like every other person in this world, I have waited a countless amount of times in life. There is no escaping waiting. I mean, I'm essentially here just waiting for Jesus to come back and take me home. Waiting is everywhere.

We wait in lines for face painting and balloon animals (among other things,

of course); we wait for the little rainbow ball of death on our computers to stop spinning; we wait for our phones to ring or texts to come through; we wait for paychecks; we wait for the right people to step into our lives and change things forever; we wait for healing; we wait for answers; we wait for family and friends to arrive places; we wait for food and service at restaurants; we wait for broken hearts to be healed.

We wait. Always.

See, patience really is a virtue.

Things that make me smile

This list is definitely not complete, nor is it in any particular order.

-Jesus

-the Texas Rangers

-running

-watching sports

-ketchup

-my family

-my friends

-the DRP

-White Rock Lake

-C.J. Wilson

-ESPN

-Mike and Mike

-SportsCenter

-orange Gatorade

-my sister's improvisational songs

-family functions

-football and all things that come with the glorious gridiron

-my students

-Taylor Swift songs

-Mizuno Inspires

-proper grammar

-Saved by the Bell

-movie quotes incorporated into real life

-writing

-summer

-worship

-the Texas Rangers (no, this is not a typo)

This is what 26 feels like

I turned 26 today, but I'm really not sure much has changed since that Sweet 16 birthday.

Sure, I have been through 10 more years of life experiences, I live on my own and have a job, and I am no longer in high school anymore. But, I teach at a high school, so I have that whole atmosphere of insecure and giddy teenagers surrounding me.

Clearly it's time to compare my life from a decade ago until now.

My 16th birthday really wasn't that spectacular. Sure, I could legally drive from then on, but I didn't do anything special to ring in that age. I didn't even have a party. Turning 26 was much of the same—I took a nap, which people my age might now consider a party. Woohoo.

Ten years ago, I had never been on a date, never kissed anyone, never had a boyfriend and never had someone fall in love with me. Nothing has changed there.

Just like when I was 16, I spend more time watching sports than anyone I know.

I still get paranoid about hoppers; I would still rather run everywhere than walk anywhere; I still don't know how to cook; I still can't drive a standard; I still hate malls; I'm still the same height; I still don't own any make-up (or know at all how to use it); I still have never left the country; I still sleep with Tie, my stuffed koala; I still can only eat Tic-Tacs in twos.

But, there are some things have changed since I became an owner of a driver's license.

For starters, I wore Asics until after high school. But, when I tagged them as the cause of a few stress fractures, I switched over to Mizunos. That was definitely one of my best decisions ever. Also, I feel that it's worthy to note that I'm a lot better at microwaving mac 'n cheese—I think I have finally mastered the right amount of water to use.

I wear a lot more skirts and dresses (I guess I really am a teacher, huh?); I am not a vegetarian (that really didn't last very long); I have a much better vehicle; the Rangers are actually good (I predicted World Series this season during Spring Training); I have fallen in love; I have pancreatitis; I don't chew as much gum; I live in a different city.

Obviously there are plenty more of things I could put on a Venn diagram, but that might be as silly as the little list I just made. The bottom line is that these 10 years have flown by pretty quickly. I am so thankful for everything that has happened, because it has led me to where I am today. It will be interesting to see what this blog says when I turn 36.

Maybe then I will at least have gone on a date.

My STATE of AfFAIRs

I have lived in Texas almost 26 years and have never been to the State Fair.

It's true—I am a native who has never experienced the disgustingness of all of the fried experimentations, waving to Big Tex, walking around in the danger zone that is Fair Park, seeing people with non-human characteristics and whatever other oddities the fair holds. I don't really feel like I'm missing out on anything, though.

I've been to a few carnivals in my life, and I have to say that I wasn't a big fan. They always made me feel so icky. Sure, some of the rides were fun, but there was just something about the entire atmosphere that made me want to rush home and take a shower—and it takes a lot to do that!

I remember when I was a little girl, there was a carnival at Andy Brown Park in the AWESOME city of Coppell that was fittingly called PigFest. It had rained recently, so the ground was pretty muddy, and there was a nasty humidity in the air. I rode that spaceship-looking ride that sucks you against the wall and spins super fast, and you can't really move without being slammed back against the wall mat. It's ridiculous and, of course, made me feel sick to my stomach. The entire day from that point was just pure grossness—nausea and muggy air (and you definitely can't imagine what the humidity does to my hair!). Ugh.

Then there was the time that I went with a friend to an annual carnival at a church in Coppell. We were in fifth grade, and she was meeting her boyfriend there (who the heck dates someone in elementary school??!). So, naturally, she ditched me as soon as he got there, and I was forced to ride all the rides alone until that one fella with two missing front teeth offered to keep me company on the Spinning Octopus. Lucky me.

I'm just really thankful that I have the Rangers (playoffs like woah!!!!) and Cowboys to keep me company during these State Fair days. Otherwise, I might be reunited with my Spinning Octopus comrade.

Give Big Tex a high five for me.