So moved.

So moved...

We've taken a billion trips in two days between the storage sheds and shop, garage and storage, shop and home, and back again... It is bittersweet unbuilding the place I built with blood, sweat and tears. It is a relief to be moving forward, but a hardship in letting go. The days are just as long now, but with an end in sight. I am even getting back a little of who I am, as if owning this closure is helping me let go of so many heavy things. I've lifted and hauled and moved and crashed and fixed and.... I'm exhausted, to my core. My business stuff is so moved. More to come, more to go, but lots done.

I've taken a billion steps running on the streets, training my new clients, at my new job. I love every minute of it. The early morning is no burden and I love the potential of that moment. It is pitch black when my day starts, cool and silent, with the world in front of me. I am even lucky enough to run in the sunrise, and share that joy with others who need to find that light inside them. This experience of change, this transformation in me, and around me, is a matter of choice. Although it feels fantastic to be me, and find what I love, it is tiring.  I've planned and pushed and trained and explained and... I'm exhausted, to my bones. My body is so moved. More to come, more to go, but lots done.

My friend's taken a billion bad things in my day and turned them all around with one single gracious gesture. You see, when it came time to run my half marathon last Sunday morning, all my training didn't matter as my body didn't cooperate and I laid in bed fighting a stomach virus. This disappointing moment, adding to the misery of being sick, made for a very unhappy beginning of the week. By the time I had made myself completely pissed off by Monday afternoon, I decided I had to run my 13.1 by myself or I'd always regret it and beat myself up over it. So I did it; my own half marathon just a day after my goal. My friend rewarded this journey with the best half marathon medal I've ever seen. You see, she altered the medal from the race the day before, one she earned, and made it so it now says April 12th (one day later than the original date), and awarded it to me, for my long race alone. She gifted me her love and respect in that beautiful gesture. In my run, I struggled and cried and pushed and dug harder and wanted to quit and endured... I'm exhausted, to my soul. My spirit is so moved. More to come, more to go, but lots done.

In hope,
Beth

Still standing

Running sucks today. It's hot, my shins hurt, and I'm exhausted.

But I did it anyway... and it sucked. But my evening is relaxed now and all the major stress of the day is not burying me in anger!

I am angry still, don't get me wrong. Everything is a little on edge to say the least. But I have refrained the urge to kill today and am still standing. Others, maybe not so much, but I am.

Sometimes that is as all you get... and it gives you greater appreciation for tomorrow.

In pain,
Beth

Clarity is peace and hope.

I saw the sunrise this morning... I was driving, actually, not running. I was going between physical training client appointments and driving the back roads between two local towns. It was beautiful. There were no words, no songs, no thoughts. I had the entire day ahead of me; I had already worked for a few hours. I loved the chill of the morning air and the warmth of the sun, the glare on my window as I turned through the countryside. The wide open fields just screamed freedom and I felt like I had found home. I love training. I love the mornings. And I love this day. I even squeezed in my own workout before heading to the shop.

I worked all day in the heat, moving furniture to sell, preparing the restaurant for a large evening event, arranging the shop, hauling from here to there... just an exhausting long day with no breaks.

Tonight, I watched the sunset. We held a beautiful dinner event at the restaurant for a wonderful group of ladies. This was one of our last private events before we close the kitchen for good at the end of the month. As I approached my 16th hour of work, I sat on the bench outside the restaurant to cool down a bit and watched the trail end of the sunset. The night air was soothing to my skin after working in the heat of the shop. I was sad in seeing the sunset on the restaurant, while watching the faces of so many favorite customers enjoying a meal together. My dear friend, that I wouldn't even know without this place, sat in the window listening to the guest speaker. She turned to look out at us, and gave a small wave. And it hit me that this is goodbye. And the sadness that we all feel is real, and the end of this journey has come.

I am glad I had this day. I am exhausted, to say the least, and as I finish this I am finishing my 18th hour of work, non-stop. And it is complete. I was able to do every aspect of all of my jobs today. And I realize it isn't possible to do this again. This is my limit. And I realize the choice I made was the right choice, with the sunrising on my new path and setting on the past. I am suffering the physical pain of doing it all, but am peaceful emotionally, for the first time in a long time.

Exhaustion can cause clarity... especially pushing through the pain; and clarity is peace and hope.

In the sunrise,

Beth

Constant

The goal has to always be to improve your quality of life. Raise your awareness, your happiness, your hope. Other goals will come and go, but this goal always remains and will be the constant on this journey.

In happiness,

Beth

Half it

No half marathon for me Sunday morning... bad timing for a blood sugar drop and night of illness. So I ran this morning... and I ache... and I ache.

That sums it up. I loved the run, loved the half journey, loved it having to do it on my own and challenge myself from missing the race, hate it now 15 hours later with the tight calves and sore hips...

The love hate relationship is always the greatest emotions...

In pain,
Beth

One moment to breathe.

Yesterday, I ran through an emotional half marathon, in closing down half of my business.

Tomorrow, I run the half marathon, for the first time in three years.

Today, I rest in recovery for what lies behind me and the miles of hills ahead.

In the middle,
Beth

Invictus

William Ernest Henley.

1849–1903

Invictus

OUT of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.