Day 1. Change starts in your mind. Or so I want to believe…but now that I have put rubber to the road, I’m not feeling quite as sure…

So let me back up a little first. In reality, the last three years of my life have essentially been about change…a new job, divorce, a serious injury, dating, two major surgeries, falling in love, daughter’s wedding…short of a death in the family or diagnosis of a serious illness – albeit, there was a brief scare of that (may get to that later in the blog) – I pretty much hit all the big ticket items. Yes, some were self-induced, but they were driven out of necessity.

When I first separated from my ex, I was fit. I was at a healthy weight, super active and regularly working out. I felt good about how I looked. Of course, I was a little critical of myself thinking I could be a little leaner, a little more svelte…which seems hella crazy to me now…but as a woman, I think we are always just {this} much from feeling perfect.

However, shortly thereafter I was faced with a serious injury for the first time in my life. My shoulder was severely dislocated (another thing I will get into later…) and while one would think that would have very little do with the rest of my body, it had a huge impact and significantly limited my activities.

My ortho doc said “take this time and enjoy leisure activities…your strength will come back, allow yourself time to heal…”…so enjoy I did!

About four months after the initial dislocation, my shoulder dislocated again and then unfortunately surgery became my only option. It seemed like a pretty easy fix with a relatively short down time, but the damage was far worse than anticipated and the surgery and subsequent recovery was more extensive than I had planned.

But again…my ortho surgeon said “let yourself heal…you will get better, you’ll be as strong as you were and any weight you gain will come off…focus your attention on healing”….so again, I followed doctor’s orders.

Recovery was going well. I had put on a little weight but was back in the gym and slowly working my way back and starting to feel like my old self again when surgery #2 reared its ugly head. My uterus decided it was time to vacate the premises…so again I got the “the key to recovery is giving yourself time to heal”…the one piece of medical advice that I seemed to excel at.

Somewhere in my head I knew I was heading down a road that would be hard to return from but I was in a new relationship, happy and content so it really wasn’t super troubling — until that morning when I woke up and realized that even my “fat” pants were too small.

And on top of that – my daughter’s wedding and those damn pictures that live on in infamy were fast approaching.

So I got motivated and started working out, nixed the carbs and cut back the wine (that hurt). Wasn’t long and I was down 15 lbs (Go me!) and squeezing into a semi-fabulous mom-of-the-bride dress. I didn’t feel great, but I felt better. My workouts were coming along and I was feeling super ambitious and thought “I want to run a half marathon”…so I gathered some friends, registered and committed to getting on training right after the holidays…

That was nearly three months ago and as of today, the half marathon is 14 weeks away. I have done very little, I mean very little to train…oh and the 15 lbs are back.

So why now? Why this blog? I’m not sure. I want some accountability…need some encouragement…and hoping that journaling my experience helps me find more than my mojo.

My divorce sucked — like sucked with a capital SUCK! As most do. It and my marriage left me damaged, in many ways. But it’s not all doom and gloom, I’ve had many amazing things happen as well, including meeting a wonderful person to share my life with…but there’s something still missing, not from my relationship, from me. Not sure if “it” was ever there…not sure if I will ever find “it” but I need and want to run this race to show myself I can and fire up the grit and determination that I know lives in me somewhere.

I don’t know if one person or 100 will read this blog but I want to share my journey anyway. I am an average, 40-something woman, who found herself in unusual circumstances and been fumbling my way through the past three years trying to find peace and balance. Sharing my story may help, it may not…only time will tell.

But one thing is for sure – on May 15^th, I am running 13.1 miles.

Today only 3.