beloved allison

It's been a while since I've written for this series and having launched it in December, it seems surreal to somehow now be in the month of May! Loving and celebrating women is something that I am extremely passionate about, largely because I've realized that with social media especially, we {women} have a tendency to slip quietly behind the scenes and watch what everyone else is doing. We often feel not as important, or less than the world around us. That's why I started this series: The Beloved Woman. Because I want you to read the words of your sisters and know that even though you may not personally know these women, they are with you. They have been through so much of what you have; this is a place to share your voice. Here is where I want my friends and readers to know YOU. Where you are front and center, no longer behind the scenes. Here is where I want you to feel appreciated, noticed, deeply loved: beloved.

I am excited to share a dear friend of mine with you today, Allison Grubbs. I have known her amazing photographer husband, Billy, through word of mouth in Louisville and through Facebook. A while ago I decided that I also needed to know his wife. I had seen some of her posts because Billy would be tagged in them. I saw right away that she was such a strong woman, and that she had a story and testimony that needed to be shared. Allison, now 27, was diagnosed with endometriosis at the age of 22, and it is with such eagerness that I introduce you to this brave sister of mine. 

A little bit about Allison: 

"I am originally from Pennsylvania, but moved to Louisville KY at a young age. Now I live in a quirky 100+ year old home in the Highlands with my husband and our crazy Goldendoodle, Sunday. My husband, Billy Grubbs, is a film photographer and owner of State Film Lab. As for me, I have worked as a hairstylist for 8 years and I just completed my first year of nursing school at Spalding University. I’ll be spending my summer working as a Women’s Health Nurse Extern at Baptist Health Louisville. It’s been a long time coming (like seriously, I’ve been working on my Bachelor’s degree off and on for 6+ years!), but the plan is to graduate in June 2018 with a Bachelor’s in Science and Nursing degree. Upon graduation, I will be continuing on with Baptist Health as an RN, and the goal is to specialize in Women’s Health nursing.

I asked Allison, "When do feel the most beautiful?" I think this can be a challenging question for us ladies to answer, because we fear of coming across vain or narcissistic. But when I ask my sisters this, I mean feeling beautiful inside AND out. I love asking them to figure out when they feel beautiful, without necessarily a reason. It's not always when our hair and makeup is done or we are dressed all fancy for a date, and I loved her response. Allison said,  

"I have come to learn that a person finds their true beauty when they are doing whatever it is that fills them up to their core. So at the risk of sounding complete cliché, I feel most beautiful when I am serving and taking care of others. This was instilled in me at a young age being that my grandmother and great aunt both had Limb Girdle Muscular Dystrophy. Taking care of someone is all that I have ever know, and it’s the one thing that comes to me so naturally. It’s the thing that fills me up to my core."

Allison has an incredibly humbling story about her journey with endometriosis, and she has such a heart for women and couples who struggle with this. I asked what her heart beats for; her biggest passions and dreams and she said:

"After being diagnosed with Endometriosis at the age of 22 and watching the disease strip me of my own fertility, one of my greatest passions in life is to educate and encourage other women who are silently suffering with diseases like endometriosis and infertility. Since our failed IVF treatment last March, I have been on a year long “break” from trying to conceive, and have been able to redirect my attention away from fertility to instead focus more on my nursing career. If I’m being honest, it has been so nice to step away from it all because it consumed my every thought for years. Of course, Billy and I long for a family. We can envision what our life would look like with a baby, and even though we have had 4 ½ years to process it, I’m sure we will still be totally unprepared, but our hearts will be so, so full."

In one of her recent Instagram posts, Allison shared a piece of heart with one of her miscarriages: 

"04.25.17 marked 3 years since our first miscarriage. 
This locket holds one out of the three mere moments in my life that my body has sustained a life other than my own. That pitiful little sprout that's barely hanging on is from a Forget-Me-Not seed that I planted in remembrance of that tiny soul that left all too quickly. 
I can remember that day so vividly. Every painful contraction, every tear shed. It's a grief stricken memory that I never want to watch fade, because it's likely the most raw and pure emotion-filled moment I will live to see. But now I don't only look back and see my deep chest-caving-in sadness that I griped tightly onto for so long. Instead I see a messy start to a beautifully knitted testimony, one that God intricately pieced together, specifically for me. So for you my little one, I am endlessly thankful."

I have not personally gone through anything like what Allison and Billy have endured, however I am sure many of you reading this have, or know someone who has. I asked her what she would like to encourage you with and she replied: 

"I would tell them that they are not alone in their sufferings. Infertility is the loneliest of places, and it’s so incredibly easy to get wrapped up in your own sadness. You have to sit back and watch everyone around you get what you have been fighting like hell for. You become desperate, frustrated, obsessive, bitter, jealous, and just plain sad. These emotions are completely normal, you have to grieve the fact that you may never be able to conceive the baby that you have spent years longing for, the one who has mommy’s eyes and daddy’s nose. So take time to throw yourself a little pity party, replenish those empty spaces, and move on knowing that God is working tirelessly during your waiting. Let your struggles drive and motivate you, and empower other women to do the same by being brave enough to share your story, and do this utterly unashamed. Stick with it so that you have a story to tell, one about how you managed to overcome your adversities, and how somewhere in between the spaces, you found your full potential to be the beautifully strong woman that God intricately designed you to be."

On Father's Day of last year, Allison had shared this little blurb about Billy, and it just absolutely made me tear up thinking of my own husband, who is a dad of two littles. The strength in her words, and the faith that she holds for her Creator is just really humbling. I'd like to think that I would be as faithful and trusting as she is, and at the same time, I'm a little ashamed to think that I might not be.

"Celebrating this guy on Father's Day and every day! He is beyond supportive in every aspect of my life. He has been there since the beginning...from my endometriosis diagnosis, multiple surgeries and scares, negative tests month after month, heartbreak when we lost our babies, each painful injection for IVF, and the list goes on. He continues to be strong and encouraging for us, and our future family. I am not in this journey alone...he goes through the motions of infertility just like me, and stands tall by my side. Some of the most special fathers are the ones who have to endure losing their babies before they ever get to meet them. He is, and will be, the best father in the world..." 

Sisters and friends, wherever you are reading from, please know that I appreciate you. The love and support you've given towards this blog and my writing, this series, and my work--I am so grateful. If you would like to follow along with Allison's journey, you can find her Instagram account here. She and Billy are in continuous prayer, and I know YOUR prayers and encouragement would mean the world to them. 

Please take a few seconds to comment below and give Allison some love! This woman holds so much love in her heart for SO many people, I really am blessed to know and call her friend. 

Kissing the SAHM Life Goodbye: My Thoughts and Prayers

Well y'all, as quickly as my time off began, it's now quickly coming to an end. Feeling emotional while the kids nap [does that happen to you??], I went back and read some old posts of mine. It literally feels like yesterday that I was counting down until Christmas break and looking forward to the months I would be blessed to stay home with my kids. Now here we are...I go back to my classroom in TWO weeks [only for four days, and then it will be summer vacation], and I'm like, "HOW!??!" 

Lastnight in bed, I started to pray. I apologized because honestly, it's been a little too long since I had a sincere heart to heart with the Lord; and I just asked for guidance. Previously I had said during this season, I had wanted to write more, get more serious about the blog, and book more sessions--and guess what? That just didn't really happen. I did a few sessions sure, and I have a few weddings in the coming year, but I wasn't slammed. And when I opened my laptop to write, usually I couldn't find the words or motivation to get my fingers moving. This has been a season of motherhood, and as I sit and reflect, I am so grateful for that. 

I'm a good teacher. I've taught for six years, in a self-contained elementary classroom; teaching all subjects, and meeting HUNDREDS of children along the way. I love fifth graders especially, their humor and sarcasm [or attempts anyway] and when they really start digging deep to figure out who they are. I LOVE teaching writing and inspiring kids TO write. I like interacting with my co-workers and having adult conversations. But at the same time, the thought of working a five day a week job again...it really makes me sad. 

My son Pierson will start kindergarten in August [THREE months from now, ahhhh!] and our sweet Reese will be all by herself. She's never known a day without her brother, and she definitely hasn't been away from him all day every day! We don't yet have a sitter for her, and it makes me SO emotional to think that I won't be the one with her each day. Especially her by herself, will be SO fun; she'll be four in September and her personality is just bursting with greatness each and every day. What I wouldn't give to do preschool lessons and 'field trips' with my baby girl. But it's just not the case. 

I asked God to give me this time to focus on being Mom, and He answered. Back in November, I wrote this:

There is one thing that I DO know though...that I need this time with my kids. With my son going to kindergarten August 2017, I know that I will be so thankful for these next few months. We aren't sure when our daughter will start school, as our school district just changed the date and age kids need to be when they enroll; so as of now, she may start the year right after him, or she may have to wait two years. Regardless of what happens, if I go back to work full time, part time, or WHATEVER, having these coming months to focus more on being MOM, sounds so wonderful.

The last four months, I definitely focused on being Mom. I think, and have to trust, that God wants me back in the classroom for a while longer. I don't think it's unfeasible that I'll be able to get more paying jobs and possibly in the future get the chance to stay home again, but that time is not now. Reese will definitely be home next year, but we aren't sure yet about the following. If there's a chance she can enroll in kindergarten early, we may look into that because she is SO intelligent, especially socially. But if she does stay home for two years, *maybe* I'll get to stay home again the second year?  

I had written another post back in December about my goals during this time off. It was pretty humbling to re-read them today, so let me share with you how those have panned out ;) 

1. Eat breakfast [at the table] with the kids and read a devotional while they eat
2. wash my face and everyone's teeth [maybe throw in a shower?] ;) 
3. start a routine of school work with them / letters, sight words, science projects, SOMETHING...
4. read aloud daily, other than at nap/bed time
5. go for a walk or play out back before naps
6. if laundry gets done, put it AWAY. this never happens [am i the only one?]
7. eat lunch. be healthy. take care of me. 
8. if i don't make it to the gym, do at least one Suzanne Bowen workout a week
9. write for at least 15 minutes a day, whether journaling or in this space
10. cook/prepare 1 meal a week, since my husband is THE chef of the household

Basically, I never cooked a meal... I think I did once? Tacos or something? No wait, I also made a meatloaf and mashed potato dish. Sorry, Babe! I DID brush my teeth daily (you're welcome!) and for the first few months, we were in a great swing of 'school' in the morning. We focused on letters the first several weeks and did fun crafts with things that started with whichever letter (like 'P' we made and designed pizzas and talked about penguins and popcorn, etc.) We went to the park a lot, rarely out back though. I have been *pretty* good about laundry, even putting it away, though this hasn't religiously happened and I do often ask for my husband's help if we let it get away from us during the week. I definitely did not work out, other than running, but that goal was made before I ran the mini marathon so maybe that one isn't a fail? And I didn't write daily...as much as I wish I had. During the kids' naps I was often tired and accepted the fact that it was OKAY to lie down or just rest! 

I'm pretty good at NOT knowing what the future looks like. But it's been really humbling and a huge eye-opener, that I can always look back and see how God answered prayer and opened or closed doors. A year ago I was dreaming of staying home, unsure if it would ever happen, and then look. Then, I prayed for some quiet and a season of stillness, and that's what I'm currently living! Though it's hard, and definitely bittersweet, I am surrendering my future yet again to Him. 

Pierson will do great in kindergarten. Reese will be well cared for and loved. I will make a difference in the classroom. And everything is going to be just fine. 

That was my little benediction to myself, but in all seriousness, I could use your prayers and well wishes. I literally do NOT know where the time went. The saying, "The days are long but years are short," is beyond true. Some days have been so hard, but I wouldn't have traded them for anything in the world! 

A Good Christian Girl Like You

I've been sitting on that phrase for a long time. Do people's words ever ring in your head and just kind of STAY there? I've heard several, heck, one even made a blog post of mine go viral: "A skinny girl like you..." was the winner there. But back to the one that's currently ringing in my mind. 

Around Election Day I attempted to stay neutral in some of my responses as far as social media was concerned. But frankly, the closer it got to casting my ballot, the more passionate I got about really wanting to voice my opinion about Donald Trump. For the first time in my adult life, I felt concerned for our country; worried about what would happen if this man stood in front of our country as THE President Elect. Well, we all know how that turned out and we all know that as far as politics are concerned, our voices are like the wind. We share them for each other, but are they going to change major decisions and outcomes like THE President of the United States? Probably not. 

However, as much as I know how Facebook works and I know that it is a place for our voices TO be heard, I was SHOCKED at some of the responses I received from friends and family on one of my statuses. I mean heaven FORBID I don't vote straight ticket Republican, right? "Ashley, I'm just shocked that a good Christian girl like you would vote this way," I read. 

Hold on. 
Wait. 
Pause. 
Stop. 
WHAT???????? 

Did you know that I didn't SAY who I was voting for publicly, I just made it clear that it wasn't Trump? Let me ask those of you reading this, have you and I ever had a REAL conversation? Have we gone in to deep dialogue about my religious beliefs and political opinions? Do you actually know where I stand on abortion, on gay marriage, on healthcare, on student loans and education...or do you just THINK you know based on my Facebook posts? Did you know that Facebook is not ME? 

 I take pretty pictures. I love to post about my kids, especially so my mom who is six hours away, can see entire albums of what we're up to. I like to stay in touch with friends who have all moved to different states or who live back home. I use Facebook to sell stuff, that's always fun right? Once in a while I'll post a random status or share something of someone's that I could relate to. But you don't know exactly where I stand on worldly issues because of Facebook. Social media is not who I am. And it's not who YOU are. 

 With social media, you can fine tune your individual feeds to see what you want to see, and what you do NOT want to see. Blocking, unfollowing, reporting, unfriending...But, I try to see and hear everyone. Even those who I do not agree with, even those who I don't understand. And I try to avoid publicly shaming my friends and family because at the end of the day, social media is NOT my relationship; it is not WHOM I love.

We are all SO different. I have friends who do yoga, (I don't really care too much about yoga), I have friends who are UBER passionate about essential oils (I LIKE essential oils, but I can't claim to be passionate about them), I have friends who swing one way politically or the other; super Republican or super Democrat, and I'll tell you I don't agree with things from BOTH of those parties. But I still love you because of YOU. I love you BECAUSE you're family, not because I have to agree with you 100% on every single thing that you are passionate about. I love you because you are uniquely and wonderfully created BY my Creator.

 I received a direct message on Instagram relating to one of my stories, a photo of Scrubbing Bubbles. "Don't use that cleaning product! It'll give you cancer!" she said. I almost REALLY quickly replied, "EVERYTHING CAUSES CANCER, don't scold me for the choices that I make for myself and my family," and then I immediately deleted it. That's what social media is, right? A place to voice our opinion, to share the things we are passionate about, to make each other laugh, to use our words and to document our lives. But can't we think before we scold? I mean really, did she think that I would just immediately stop using Scrubbing Bubbles because of a direct message? I don't know, perhaps so. But if you know me, then you know I'm not the type of person to live in fear of cleaning products, foods, beverages, and just lifestyle things in general. Someone once told me that milk caused cancer. Really and truly, HOW are we supposed to live with all the warning labels that exist?! My husband and I eat healthy, we try to also ensure the same for our children, and ultimately, we're doing the best that we can. Aren't we all? 

My friend Hannah shared a photo to Facebook recently and with it, captioned this: "...What a beautiful opportunity we have to love others with our words. To have our hearts in a place of worship, so that from our heart flows words of appreciation and thankfulness, that in turn, build others up. What a beautiful place our communities could be, with the help of carefully thought out and graciously delivered words." 

Y'all. You do not know my entire values or beliefs from Facebook. And I don't know yours. If you'd LIKE to have a conversation about mine sometime, hey, let's actually talk. I don't think I could meet every single one of you for coffee or dinner, but I'm happy to get to know you. And if there's something that you think I should change or do, start with a gentle tone, not authoritative. I may not agree with you on your political or religious beliefs, but I promise to still love you. And that's not just because I'm a good Christian girl, it's because my parents raised me well and I believe in the good of this world. 

When You Think You Can't: My Journey to Thirteen Miles

Training for Louisville's Mini Marathon... where do I even START?? I have been regularly going to our local YMCA with my husband for the past year. I never really had any workout goals or anything that I was shooting for, so I pretty much did the same thing every single time: 

-Attempt to run 1-2 miles on the treadmill for some cardio
-A few squats with the bar
-Planking and ab focus
-and honestly...that's it. 

When my friend Lauren asked me a long time ago, I don't remember the time frame at all, if I would run the Mini with her, I laughed out loud. I've never been a 'runner,' and the furthest I had ran in my life was three miles. And then one random day at the gym, I wasn't collapsing after my third mile on the treadmill, so I kept running. I got to mile four, my husband cheering me on next to me on another machine, and the thought entered my mind: "Maybe I could do this?" 

That was in February. I told Lauren that I would attempt an outdoor run with her, (Lord knows I hadn't ran OUTSIDE in YEARS), and I would just see how it went. My goal that day was to go more than four miles, and sure enough, we went six. It was exhilarating. I felt like I had just conquered the WORLD for running that distance. I told myself I'd see how the next FEW runs went, because I didn't want to commit, and fail. 

During that six mile run, my ankles were killing me. I had on a pair of Nike shoes that I had received for a past collaboration, and I knew nothing about GOOD running shoes. I continued to run, and the pain continued. Duh. But I decided to bandit run the first race of the Triple Crown run with Lauren, which was a 5k. (She was already signed up for all three races AND the Mini, but again, I have a phobia of commitment.) I remember we did pretty well, but that we were tired during it. That morning was extra cold and "just three miles" felt like a lot longer. But we kept at our training.

 I decided to visit our local Fleet Feet stores, where professionals sized my feet, watched me run around the store and on a treadmill, and two employees explained to me how bad my ankles pronate. I was super anxious about doing something 'wrong,' and decided to go with a medium support shoe AND a shoe insert, for extreme support. The next day, I ran SEVEN miles. My left knee had started to experience pain before the new shoes, and after the run, it had tripled. I was anxious, and constantly overanalyzing every single move I made. I then ran the second race with Lauren, the 10k, and during it, I actually felt GOOD. My knee didn't hurt, I got tired around the fourth mile but then quickly snapped out of it and we finished strong. I continued to increase my mileage and the day after my 29th birthday I ran nine miles. I learned before this, that I probably didn't need the insert in the shoe, so I had removed that and ran without it. Surely I'd be able to do the LAST race (which would be April 1), a ten miler, right? 

WRONG. The week prior to the ten miler we did our normal training. I had been wearing a knee brace on and off. I had seen a physical therapist at ProRehab who told me I definitely had a minor knee injury, but I couldn't afford to go back. Lauren and I ran 4 miles on a Tuesday and decided to do "just three" Wednesday, but those three involved hills. I had my knee brace on for that one, and as soon as we stopped I felt a loud POP. The pain seared through my left knee and pardon my french, but the word, shit!, screamed in my head. I went about my day as normal, doing chores and playing with the kids...but going up and down stairs was hard. I went to bed Thursday (the next night) and was woken ALL throughout the night due to the pain, which had never happened before. There went my over analytical panic....! All day Friday, back and forth, I went dialoging with my husband, texting friends for prayer, asking my physical therapist friend for advice and ultimately, I knew the answer: "You can't run the ten miler," I told myself. I sat on the kitchen floor and cried, and told myself that I still shouldn't sign up for the Mini Marathon because if I couldn't run ten, Lord knows I couldn't run THIRTEEN. 

I went on vacation with my family and took an entire week off from running. I sincerely doubted that I'd be able to run a long distance again, I was just so freeking scared of permanently damaging my knee. There weren't too many runners I talked with who HAD knee injuries or problems, which instilled even more doubt in my mind--maybe I was doing something wrong? 

We got back from vacation on a Friday and I told Asa I wanted to try to run 7 or 8 miles on Saturday. No one was available to run with me that morning so I set off on my own. I remember after the second mile I realized, "My knee doesn't hurt!" and I wasn't even wearing the brace. I set out and reached the fourth mile; I was tired and my legs felt heavy, but and the house was still four miles away. I made my way home and I hit six miles, seven, EIGHT, and I thought, "I can run my OWN ten miler!!" I texted Asa from my Apple Watch (so cool right?) and told him I needed prayer. "You can do it! Keep running!" he responded. I got to 9.3 miles and was near the house, so I decided to finish at our park. "Can you bring the kids outside to cheer me on?" I texted. Sure enough, they all joined me at the park and my son and daughter and amazingly sweet husband clapped and cheered as I finished my very first TEN mile run. That was when I knew. 

I want to do the Mini. 

 Lauren and I ran a great eleven miles the week before the race, and my body felt so strong. I was pretty much in constant muscle pain; my shins, calves, IT band, thighs, butt, you name it--ALWAYS ached. But not in a dangerous pain. I felt ready! Well, true to my normal self of not checking deadlines far enough in advance, I actually missed the registration for the race. Luckily, there were numerous people who knew friends selling their bibs for the Mini so I pretty easily obtained one. Lauren and I ran three miles Tuesday and another three Wednesday and took Thursday/Friday off completely. My brother and his wife came in to town Friday night to stay with us from Nashville, and I was actually excited to run. "If I can run 11 miles, surely I can run 13," I had been telling myself. And tons of people reassured me of that too! 

The race went from a start time of 7:30am to NINE a.m. due to potential storms. My adrenaline got completely burned up, and I was getting SO hungry. We took selfies at the start line and in my head, I still felt like BECAUSE I had ran 11 miles just a week prior, doing 13 was really not going to be much different. Except it was...the weather was completely different. During my 11 miler, it was cold and rainy and I honestly think that's my favorite to run in. The temps were only increasing by 9 a.m. and it was humid as heck. Literally two miles in, I started to panic. Our miles were quicker than our regular training pace, and I was out of breath, ALREADY. Lauren and her roommate Mary didn't seem phased, and I began to panic even more. Asa and I's friend Tim had decided to also run, and he was keeping in stride with me. I walked through the water stop around mile 5, and I told Lauren to go on. I think she did her best to turn around and check on me, but then I would feel even more guilt for slowing her down when she was doing SO good. The crowd completely overwhelmed me. I think for many people, being surrounded by thousands of individuals is an adrenaline rush? But for some reason it just freaked me out. I looked up and saw MILES of people. "There is NO way you can run THIRTEEN miles," I told myself. We were on the way to Churchill Downs and all I could think was that it was SO far away. I would never get there. It was too hard. I couldn't breathe. I didn't want to do this. By mile six, I literally wanted to give up. 

I remember telling Tim that I didn't think I could do this. I used ALL the water stops as my reason to slow down, walk, and to splash water in my face. I saw my family and kids at mile 9.5 and I just wanted to sob. "I can't keep running, Asa," I said when I saw him. He ran beside me. "Yes you can!" he said. 

It's kind of crazy to me that as I type, I am reliving all of the emotions I had. I am on the verge of crying here, folks. Yikes!! 

Tim and I kept going. At one point I had to stop and tie a shoelace, which also discouraged me. It literally was not UNTIL the tenth mile, when we were nearing downtown Louisville and I could see the sky rises, that I caught my breath and felt like I was in a good rhythm. Tim's knee had been giving HIM problems, and he stopped to stretch it out. I stretched my toes on a pole and told him, "I am fine to go even slower. I didn't sign up for this race to collapse or hate myself or to get sick on the course," and we kept going. I told him that when I had my knee injury, it hurt worse to stop, and he agreed that his was the same. "Just keep jogging," I told him at mile eleven. At that point I was SO relieved, we only had TWO more miles and we would be DONE with this!! We neared the finish line and hit the twelfth mile. "Just ten more minutes," I told myself. "Ten minutes max, and I'll be finishing the Mini." Encouraging words from my supporters started to replay in my head. "Do this for YOU. This is YOUR race. Feel the Lord's presence. HE is with you." 

And then there it was. In all of it's beautiful glory, the finish line. Tim and I looked at each other and smiled, soon I heard the shouts coming from my husband, our kids, and my brother and his sweet wife. I waved and threw my hands in the air. Crossing the finish line I grabbed about four more cups of water, and received my medal. "Keep walking," I told Tim. I thought that because I had felt great after the 11 miles from the last week, surely I'd do okay with this one. 

Wrong again. I saw my daughter Reese on my brother's shoulders and I grabbed her from him and just started to sob. So loudly came the tears and the weeping. "Why are you crying, Mommy?" the kids asked. "It was just really hard, Baby," I said. "Mommy, I missed you while you ran," my son said. "I missed you too, honey." I hugged my friend Lauren who had already crossed the finish line and laughed a little. She had always said she'd be the one to cry once the Mini was done and here I was, just uncontrollably sobbing.

I wanted food, so I started to walk, and I also wanted to poop. (If you're a runner, you KNOW this feeling!!) I headed into a Porta Potty and sat there a while. I started to feel lightheaded and dizzy, weak and just NOT good. I couldn't go and couldn't even PEE (what the heck?!) so I continued my walk towards food. And then it happened. ALL the vomiting. And I couldn't stop...every few feet I had to sit down, puke, and at one point, my husband put me on his back. I puked on a bench, on some trees, on the sidewalk, and once in the car, opened the door at every stop light. And then the chills came and I couldn't stop shaking. I wanted to cry again but didn't even have the strength to do that. My poor brother, who sat in the trunk of our car, and his wife Beth, who sat in between the kids, had to listen to me gagging and barfing the entire way home from the race. (I'm SO sorry, guys!!!) 

Once home I wrapped up in a blanket and said, "I could just die instead?!" Everyone told me I needed to try to drink, and Beth set a timer on her phone to remind me to take a sip every five minutes. I managed to get a five hour energy drink down [hopeful the B12 in it would help replenish me], as well as sprite. Two hours on the couch and I still wasn't able to eat a thing. I tried right after the race but my mouth was so dry and it tasted so GROSS, I just couldn't. Finally I made it my status about Zofran or any other anti-nausea med anyone close by may have. Luckily one of my dear sweet pregnant friend's (also hair dresser) had some and she lives just a couple of miles away. Soon I had taken half a pill, and was at that point nibbling on oatmeal. The kids woke from their naps and I was strong enough to get up and walk. Within minutes I felt strong enough to shower and then the feeling of starvation hit. I was finally craving food and actually felt good enough to go OUT to get it!! 

At the finish line I had grabbed my husband and ugly girl cried into his chest. "Don't EVER let me do this again," I pleaded. Here I am, two days later; my body actually feeling way better than it ever has with ANY of my long runs. And yesterday I think I gained the two pounds back that I had lost in the first 24 hours [eeek, I know] because I had seconds of EVERYTHING from our dinner. And guess what? My husband literally sent me another race signup TODAY, for three races, the last one being a mini marathon in October.  

Not today, Dear. I am not committing to ANYTHING yet for a while...I think I'll have some PTS from this whole thing anyway and I definitely know I'll have a fear of running that long of a distance. 

But I did it. Through all the muscle aches, knee pain, doubt, fear, insecurities, disbelief, and LONG hours spent away from my family training...I learned a lot. I'm stronger than I ever knew I was, and that's saying something because I birthed two babies. I wish the Mini had gone differently for me-that I could have gotten my breathing figured out much earlier on and that I could have actually enjoyed it, but it's done. I ran 13.1 miles and am SO glad that I did. 

I want to thank Tim for running those thirteen miles with me. As one of our very best friends, and the guy who on a drop of a hat, would always be there for us, he definitely proved that to me. And thank you to my friend Lauren who trained with me the whole two months that I did. I'm so thankful for your friendship and am so proud that you literally kicked BUTT during this race! Thank you, Noah, my brother in law, for running my *first* eleven miler with me, and helping me believe in myself when otherwise, I would have just stopped. (And for being such a huge support system period throughout this whole journey.) Thank you Sean, my big brother, for driving to Louisville for the whole weekend. Your support and belief in me means more than you'll ever know. Thank you Beth, my brother's wife, for taking these beautiful photos, and for also ALWAYS believing in me! Thanks, Mama and Dad, for your support from afar. I felt your presence throughout the run and also ran this for you. Thank you, sweet Asa, husband of mine, for loving me, choosing me, supporting me, and being mine. You are an incredible husband and father, and because of you, I finished. 

Photos Courtesy of Bethany Renee Photography

Here's the video my brother Sean with Hey World Productions created. He definitely captured every ounce of my emotion!