Run Forrest Run...

This is a true story.  Of a girl.  And, a dream.  And, how the girl is gonna make the dream a reality.

I've always been a rather shy person.  Last summer, I thought taking up running would help me break out of my shell.  Granted, I was from the school that you should only run if something or someone was chasing you.  No one should ever do it for any sort of exercise.  In fact, I thought most of those people that I saw trotting down the road had lost it.  Who would want to do something so ridiculous?  After much coaxing by a few people, I started.  Very slow.  So slow, in fact, it was almost a fast walk.  I started on the treadmill.  I figured that was the best place for a "newbie" to start.  Less eyes on me.  Shy me.  I could only run one minute without stopping.  Probably because I nearly started hyperventilating.  I jumped off the treadmill, sweat coming out of what felt like every pore on my body.  I could barely speak.  Plus, I had to pee.  Not a surprise, considering most of my insides jiggle and shake when running.  It only took one minute to get that stitch in my side.  How can I do this?  How do most people do this?  I had to figure this out...and, quick.  I wasn't going to give up.  

The next few weeks at the gym were physically demanding.  I'm a big girl.  I have more fat to contend with, especially around the middle.  But, I told myself that I could do this.  Slowly, but surely, I was turning shy little me into a runner. Well, maybe a jogger.  At any rate, I slowly increased my time that I was running and not holding onto the siderails.  I always found the first 10 minutes the hardest.  I told myself that I would be just fine if I could make it through the first 10 minutes.  Maybe it's psychological.  The first 10 hurt.  Like hell.  My calves ached.  My knees hurt.  There was always a little tennis match in my head.  Two players, "Good Emily" and "Bad Emily".  Good Emily would be saying, "Look at you!  You are running!  Go for it and never give up".  Bad Emily would be shouting, "Jump off this damn machine and go get a Swiss Cake Roll.  Now.  Running is for losers".  The battle raged on until minute 10.  Then, I told them both to shut the hell up and I kept on.  Was I actually conquering a fear I'd had for a long time?  Surely I wasn't actually becoming a runner.  Maybe, just maybe!  

I few months went by, and I had slowly made it up to 35 minutes of actually jogging without stopping...wow!  I nearly cried when I managed that for the first time.  Granted, I thought my legs were gonna fall right off after I got finished, but I had done it.  And, I was still alive.  I decided that, if I was really gonna do this right, I needed to get the proper shoes.  Walking into Swift Athletics on a sunny afternoon in Evansville was daunting.  And, quite intimidating.  Would they see me and immediately start laughing?  Maybe they would just let me down easy.  "Um, ma'am, don't be ridiculous.  You don't even look like a runner.  Thanks for playing, but get out of here".  Quite the opposite happened.  The people there were extremely friendly and very helpful!  They watched me walk and run in the store (a little embarrassing!).  I walked out of there with less cash but a comfortable (and, correct) pair of running shoes.  That's when I decided to transition to the track.

Most of you will remember that last summer was HOT.  No, make that scorching.  When I would run at the track, it would be around 9 pm.  Even then, it was almost unbearable.  But, I wasn't gonna let a lot of sweat stop me.  At this point, I had a friend meet up with me.  Watching her run around the track made me doubt my abilities.  She made it look easy.  It was a great push for me.  Is she could do it, then why couldn't I?  After several laps around the track over the course of a few weeks, it was time for the Schweizer Fest Road Run.   I had made it my goal to fun that race.  The day of the race came, and I felt confident.  My friend and I had made a pact that we wouldn't necessarily stay together.  I secretly thought she would race right ahead of me anyway, and I didn't want to slow her down.  I couldn't believe all the people that showed up.  I had done this race several years prior with my dad.  He ended up smoking me in that race.  I don't like to admit that, seeing as he is nearly 36 years older than I am...ha!  Anyway, back to last year's race.  I vowed to start out slow.  Hell, I was gonna run the entire two mile race SLOW.  I was competing against myself.  I wasn't out to win.  The gun sounded and I was off.  My friend and I stayed together for only a few minutes.  It was hard.  Probably because of the weather.  I think it had already reached 80 degrees by the time the race started at 8 am.  80?  Are you kidding?  Plus, it was humid.  I felt like I could barely take a good breath in.  I was not starting out well.  I made it to the first mile and grabbed a cup of water and gulped it down.  I had to stop and walk.  I felt terrible for doing this, but I had no other choice.  My whole body hurt.  After a few blocks, I started running again.  I could barely see because the sweat was falling off my forehead and into my eyes faster than I could wipe it away.  Had I gone crazy?  The last four blocks were the worst.  But only physically.  Mentally speaking, that was when I kicked it into high gear.  There were hundreds of people cheering on the runners.  I saw so many people that I knew and they were yelling my name and encouraging me to fun harder, faster.  I needed that extra push to get me to the finish line.  Crossing that line was a HUGE accomplishment for this chubby girl.  I had done it!  Granted, my entire body felt like it was on fire...where was the hose when I needed it?

So, I didn't break any records.  You know what?  I proved to myself that I could do it.  I didn't give up.  I ended up with a time of 24:25...this was big in my book!  Did I just run two 12 minute miles?  You've got that right!  I even beat some people...yahoo!  Okay, so most of the people I beat were walkers...who cares!  I was out there on a hot day, running through the beer garden (yes, you could still smell the beer!) proving to myself that I can do anything.  I felt high on life after it was over.  However, my legs felt like Jello.  My head hurt.  My knees ached.  But, I had done it.  And, I rewarded myself with a nap.  

If you think you know how this story ends up, you're wrong.  I suddenly stopped running.  I could make up excuse after excuse as to the cause, but I won't.  I guess life just got in the way.  I got lazy.  I was mad at myself.  I've never felt better than I did when I was running.  Sure, I kind of wanted to die during some of my training but, overall, I felt amazing.  I had no trouble sleeping.  I had more energy.  All in all, I felt like I could do anything.  Then, I lost that feeling.  I lost the drive to hit the pavement and continue.    For some silly reason, I felt like a failure.  I put in a lot of time and sweat, bought a pair of pretty expensive shoes...and now?  Well, those shoes were doing nothing but sitting on the floor of my bedroom.  Sure, I continued to go to the gym, but I never ran.  Sad, but true.

Fast-forward to today.  It was a beautiful day in Southern Indiana.  I decided to go for a walk.  Make that a run/walk.  I don't know what happened, but I found the will and the strength to run.  I started running about halfway up Mozart.  Now, I knew I was nuts!  Why would I start on a hill?  Well, I did.  I would start at a telephone pole and try and run to the next one.  Or, I'd choose a mailbox and run to the next one.  I ran a few blocks, walked a few blocks.  That lasted from halfway up Mozart to my car in front of the gym on Main St.  I felt incredible.  I was slow.  But, I was running!  How could this be? After months of nothing, I was doing it again.  I had to actually visualize someone chasing me...that was the only way I made it.  I kept telling myself that I had to keep running because some scary person was behind me chasing me.  A little weird, I know.  Hey, it kept me going!  That crazy idea got me to my car.  And, that crazy idea will keep me going.  At the slow rate I go, maybe the only person capable of catching me would be a 90 year-old.  I welcome the challenge of "granny" trying to get me :) 

Running has taught me a few lessons.  First, I CAN do anything I want.  I won't ever win any medals, but I've won just knowing that I get out there and prove myself wrong on a daily basis.  I am my own worst enemy when it comes to most everything about my life.  Never again.  I can really do anything I set my mind to...and, I WILL.  I've also learned that it takes a lot of strength, courage and a great pair of shoes to accomplish what you want.  I am a strong person.  I have to have faith in my body to keep me going.  I have manly legs.  So what?  They are strong and will continue to get me here, there and everywhere.   

If you've ever thought about running, GO FOR IT!  Get out there, try something new and prove to yourself that you can do it.  Because, deep down, you know you can.  I'm living proof that anyone can run.  Believe me, if me and my jiggly fat can get out there, you can, too!  If you're waiting for the right time, there isn't one.  Start tomorrow.  Even if you have to run one block, walk one block.  Hey, we all have to start somewhere!  

I have always loved the following quote and it seemed quite fitting in this blog:

"THE RACE IS NOT ALWAYS TO THE SWIFT, BUT TO THOSE WHO KEEP ON RUNNING".  I'm gonna keep on running.  Sometimes, I'll be running on empty.  I'm gonna keep on running.  Sometimes, I'll be running down a dream.  I'm still gonna keep on running.  Maybe I'll take the money and run.  You know what?  I'm gonna keep on running.  Running, running, running. 

One word of advice?  Don't run behind me.  I tend to 'break wind" from time to time :)

Just call me Forrest.  

  

Well, poop...

I've heard the expression, "write what you know".  If that's the case, here goes nothing...

In fourth grade, I thought I knew it all.  Why would any eleven year-old feel any other way?  Two BIG things happened that year.  The first?  We had the opportunity to take live baby chicks home.  What a fabulous idea for someone that knew NOTHING about chickens.  Sure, I knew they hatched eggs.  But, honestly, I was still trying to figure out which came first.  So, this was new territory for me.  Moral of this story?  I think my poor "chicken little" didn't survive very long after the ride home.  To this day, I'm not a big, big fan of poultry.  Can you blame me?  Let's now talk about the second big thing that year.  A child's worst nightmare.  Maybe mankind's worst nightmare.  CONSTIPATION.  I choose to capitalize the entire word for many reasons.  If you've ever been "stopped up", then you'd know it's a terrible and, quite traumatizing, experience.  It started on a Sunday.  I will never forget watching "Wheel of Fortune" (I think that's where I honed my spelling skills...thanks, Pat Sajak!) while curled up in the fetal position on the floor.  My tummy hurt.  At first, I just chalked it up to my love for food.  Yes, I had the love for food way back in the day.  Surely, I had just eaten too much.  I was, after all, a little on the chubby side.  But, this belly ache lasted long beyond my food not digesting properly.  No, these pains were real.  And, I felt them down deep.  In the depths of my chubby soul.

When I woke up the next morning, I couldn't stand it.  My stomach hurt and I was about to tell mom and dad there was NO WAY I was going to school.  My big belly and I were running this show now, and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.  In fact, I missed that entire week of school.  But, I'll get to that later.  A few days went by and still no results.  At this point (a few details have escaped me) it was time for medical intervention.  So, we drove to Welborn Baptist Hospital in Evansville to my pediatrician.  I can't remember much of that visit because I was concentrating so much on my intense abdominal pain.  However, I vividly remember what happened after we got home.  That's when the "fun" began.  Yes, folks.  Something I hope not many of you have to suffer through...THE DREADED ENEMA :)

Okay, so having something shoved in your rectum at such a young age was not necessarily my idea of a good time.  If it didn't involve Barbie and Ken or my Nintendo, then I wanted NO part of it.  But, since I always did what I was told (even back then!), I kindly bent over so mom could torture me.  After what felt like hours, the job was done.  So, I plopped my booty on the toilet...and, waited.  Nothing.  Five minutes later, still nothing.  At this point, I had reverted to the grunting.  Full-blown grunting, in which beads of sweat started dripping off my forehead.  I was more than ready to "drop the kids off at the porcelain bank", so to speak, but apparently they were still napping and never got that memo.  How rude!

You name it, I tried it.  After the enema failed, a heating pad soon followed.  It helped the pain, so I was thankful for it.  I vaguely remember drinking what seemed to be a gallon of mineral oil.  Please don't ever drink it.  I don't care who tells you to or how much he or she is willing to pay you.  Next to tea and coffee, it might be THE most vile liquid anyone could drink.  By Thursday, I think we may have resorted to giving the "trusty" enema another go.  And, you know what?  Success!  What a relief!  That was probably the first time I looked back down to actually see the end result.  I was proud and I was gonna see what all the week's efforts had produced.  I felt like I had won the lottery.  It was a miracle!

It was a good thing that I finally had a bowel movement.  Because, there was a birthday party to get to and I couldn't possibly miss that!  My friend, Katie, was having a slumber party at her house that weekend and I was bound and determined to make it.  After all, I had finally "taken a dump".  I was ready to conquer the world, or at least the world according to a bunch of silly little fourth grade girls.  And, how was I gonna miss the chance to stuff myself with junk food?  I knew that might cause me to become "plugged up" again, but I was willing to take my chances.  After all, there were Cheetos involved.    For once, I was gonna live on the edge.  Why not?  Because, if you're not livin' on the edge, then you're takin' up too much room :)

From that day on, I vowed that I would NEVER go one day without "poppin' a squat" and attempting to have a bowel movement.  For the most part, I have succeeded with this vow I made so long ago.  If you've ever been constipated, then you'll firmly agree with me on this.  I used to find it so silly when my elderly patients became obsessed with "moving their bowels", as they called it.  Well, now it all makes sense.  Would I give myself an enema again?  You bet.  Would I drink mineral oil again?  Maybe.  Would I drink prune juice?  If it meant never going another week constipated, then I say BRING IT ON.

Even at the tender age of 11, I was "full of shit".  My advice?  If you have to become obsessed with anything, make it your bowels.  You won't regret it.  And, your bowels will thank you!

What You Give Is What You Get :)

So, I'm not a huge fan of reading.  Before you start with the jokes, let me say this...YES, I do know how to read.  I just don't have a huge passion for it.  Which is why, before leaving work last Friday, I probably did the big "eye roll" when I was told I had to read a few books.  Because I am a supervisor.  A wave of nausea came over me.  Seriously?  I randomly have six days off in a row and now I have to spend part of it reading?  For work, no less.  Well, this little break wasn't starting off well.

Fast forward to today.  Crap, I had completely forgotten about my reading assignment.  How silly would I look if I showed up to work tomorrow and had not even opened it.  So, this morning, after giving myself a pep talk, I started reading.  Now, let me explain something.  This book is actually work-related.  It's entitled "Inspired Nurse".  Once again, was God watching out for me?  I can't lie when I say I've been uninspired in my career for the past several months.  Nursing just didn't feel all that "inspiring" to me anymore.  I've had days where I really questioned why I even started down this road in the first place.  Nursing would be really great, if not for all the other "stuff".  There's A LOT you don't learn in nursing school.  At any rate, I've been in a nursing slump for a while.  And, I guess this was my way out.  Anyway, I kept reading.  And, reading.  And, reading.  Needless to say, I read the entire book today.  That's a HUGE accomplishment for me.  A nurse wrote the book.  Rich Bluni, RN, as a matter of fact.  I'd give anything to meet this man.  The stories in this book left me happy, joyous, inspired, gracious, humbled, just to name a few.  I even shed a few tears.  I'm really going to have to invest in more tissues.  Maybe, I just need to invest some stock in Kleenex.

I could go on and on about this book, but I won't.  Most of you "non-nurses" probably wouldn't care all that much.  I grumbled when faced with the fact that I had to read this book.  Boy, I wish I would've known better!  In one chapter, he talks about "looking for reasons to be inspired".  Basically, what he says is the that what we manifest into our life becomes our reality where inspiration is concerned.  If you look for inspiration, inspiration will find you.  Sort of like the "do unto others" motto we've all heard millions of times.

WOW.  I think I finally get what it means to be a nurse.  Maybe, more importantly, what it means to be a person.  A person that is good.  A person that inspires.  Sure, I can inspire the people that I take care of when I work, but I don't feel like that necessarily flows over to my personal life.  I sometimes have heard about a so-called "nursing face".  Get to work, leave your problems at the door and just take care of your patients.  They are sick.  They are not at their best and they certainly DON'T deserve your irritation that you might have been running late because of traffic.  Or, maybe you got pulled over on the way to these patients.  So what!  Suck it up, drop the "baggage" at the front door and remember why you chose this profession in the first place.  BECAUSE YOU WANT TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE IN THE LIFE OF SOMEONE BESIDES YOURSELF.  After all, it's not even about us nurses.  If we didn't have patients, then we wouldn't have a job.  And, I don't know about you, but I don't want to live on the street with no money.  I like to shop.

Maybe we could all start living with a "nursing face".  What happened to genuine kindness and respect?  I'm not asking you to "fake it".  I'm talking about being more appreciative of life.  So, you might not have the greatest job, nicest car, biggest house.  At least you have a job, car, and house to call your own.  Are you able to pay your bills and eat every day?  I think the answer is yes.  Are you relatively healthy?  Most of us are.  Some of us aren't.  Be grateful for each day that you spend outside the place that pays me and most other nurses.

I suppose I should read this and take some of my own advice.  It's nothing I haven't heard before.  Truthfully, I think most of us learned this a LONG time ago.  We just get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of life, we forget to slow down and breath.  I have A LOT I need to work on to better myself.  First of all, I need much more patience.  Not to be confused with "patients", but they are the reason I have a job...ha!  I am so impatient...with everything and everyone.  I want what I want when I want it.  It's how I've always lived.  So what if people don't like it (or so I used to think).  Maybe I need to stop and "just breath".  It might take more time than I want, but I'll get there eventually.  Until then, I'm still hoping that some smart person invents a "more patience" pill.  There's a pill for everything else.  Why not that?

I am much too hard on myself.  I guess I am my own worst enemy.  However, if I can be my own worst enemy, I can probably be my own best friend, too.  And, THAT'S how I need to start thinking.  None of us are perfect.  It's when we stop and look at all the good in our lives that we see that our imperfections aren't all that bad.  I know I'm clumsy.  And, a smart mouth.  And, not a fan of reading.  Or, eating anything with mushrooms in it. I tend to let whatever I am thinking come out of my mouth in the wrong way.   I also tend to think the worst in EVERY situation.  It's much easier to think that way, then you won't be so let down in the end.  WRONG way to think.  I'm learning to be much more positive.  I have the power to be anything I want.  Go anywhere I want.  So, I'm leaving that little "Negative Nancy" inside me at home.  Nancy, go to your room.  You're grounded...for the rest of MY life :)

When I first started nursing, I thought I knew it all.  I have been proven wrong  nearly each and every day since then. It's been one hell of an almost six-year journey.  A few months ago, I hit a wall.  I didn't want to have anything to do with this profession.  My heart wasn't in it.  I've always believed that life isn't a coincidence.  I also believe that I was meant to read this book.  At this time.  I'm very grateful that someone's watching over me.  Now, I know that I was born to do this.  I was born to help people.  In good times and in bad.  Nurses see people at their VERY worst.  What an incredible feeling knowing that I can make a small difference in the life of someone that I have had the privilege of caring for...and, that is why I do this.  It's not about the money.  It's not about the accolades.  It's about the patient.  It's something that I think MOST nurses need reminded of on a daily basis.

Sure, nursing is not "puppy dogs and rainbows" all the time.  In fact, some days are hard.  Really hard.  I will never forget the first patient that died in my care.  Could I do this for the next 30+ years?  Unfortunately, death is always going to be a part of this job.  Fortunately, it's not THE only part.  For every patient that has died, there is a patient that does, in fact, get better.  What a transformation seeing someone so very sick and so very well in a matter of days.  And, to know that I might have had a small part in that...well, it's the icing on this great big cake of mine.  Yes, I relate pretty much all I can to food.  Probably something I love almost as much as nursing!

"YOU GET WHAT YOU GIVE".  The name of Zac Brown Band's new album.  Also, a chapter in this book.  It really is true.  Not just in nursing, but in life.  I don't know about you, but I'm gonna stop and smell the roses more.  I'm gonna be just a little more patient.  I'm gonna see the good in people, no matter what.  I'm gonna stop thinking it's all about me.  I'm gonna stop trying to be perfect...at everything.  Okay, so I might have a little bit of trouble with that last part!  I can't help it...I am "type-A" all the way.  I'm a work in progress...and, I think I'll get there.

If I'm lucky, I've got a lot of livin' yet to do.  And, A LOT of people to care for and about.  But, I'll be leaving the all-white uniform, cap and hosiery at home!

So, I'll leave you with this thought  (if anyone actually reads this!) .  What or who inspires you?  What or who makes you get up each day and want to be a better person?  I think you'd be surprised at the answer(s)!  So, go on.  Figure it out.  Quit just "going through the motions" and start inspiring yourself and others around you.

It wouldn't be a typical "Emily Blog" without at least a little bit of "funny".  So, I'll share this with you.  When you think you're having a bad day, remember this.  I have fallen down multiple times at work.  I've spilled things all over my uniform and the uniforms of co-workers (BETADINE is NOT a toy!).  I've also been in the process of taking care of someone and had the crotch of my pants rip wide open.  No joke.  People, like I've said many times before, I couldn't make this stuff up, even if I tried.  But, maybe that's what I personally bring to this profession that is known as NURSING...a whole lot of laughs!  Last time I checked, just because you're sick doesn't mean you don't know how to laugh until you sides hurts :)

If You Don't Know Where You're Going, You Might End Up Somewhere Else...

I took the title of this particular blog from Toby Keith's "Somewhere Else".  And, just a warning, this blog will be a tribute to country music.  Because it's amazing.  And, because I love it so.

I'm in the middle of watching the "Academy of Country Music" Awards.  In my opinion, it might just be THE best awards show on television.  Mostly, because I said so.  But, more importantly, because it's full of people that just "get it" lyrically.  Country music has always been on my mind.  Sometimes, shoved a little too far back!  I rediscovered my love for this particular type of music a few years ago.  What I had been listening to on the radio was getting old.  If someone wasn't screaming into my ear via my car speakers, another someone was shouting "eff this" and "eff that".  Not that I am above cussing (hello, have you ever met me?)  I was just in a music funk.  So, I jumped ship.  Over to the cowboy hats.  Over to the twang.  Over to something I thought would change things up a bit.

My love for country has become much stronger over the last year.  It's what I listen to on a regular basis.  There are many reasons why country music just does it for me.  Like I said before, country artists just "get it".  They don't have to come out and be weird just for the sake of being weird.  They don't have to dress up in fancy attire.  Hell, most of them wear flannel shirts, Wranglers and steel-toed boots.  They don't have to show off with their wardrobe.  They leave that up to their voices.  Some of THE best songs are country.  And, there's a song for pretty much every occasion.  You broke up with your boyfriend/girlfriend?  There's a song for it.  You lost your job?  There's a song for it.  You burned mac 'n' cheese in the microwave?  Oh, maybe there's not a song for that.  Don't laugh.  I did that last week.  Hey, my name's not Betty Crocker.  I blame it on the microwave.  Damn appliance.

There's definite "roots" in country music.  And, if you haven't gotten a chance to experience the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, I suggest you do so...and, quick.  I had the opportunity to see the "Zac Brown Band"  perform there in December 2009.  One of THE best experiences of my life.  There's so much history in that place to fill up many books.  Plus, the ZBB is one of my favorite groups, country or otherwise.  Zac could sing me the phone book and I'd be happy.  I vividly remember sitting in one of the church pews with tears running down my face when they sampled a song that would become one of today's biggest hits.  And, that song would be "Colder Weather".  Overall, an amazing opportunity that I will never forget.  And, one that I shared proudly with one of my best friends, Beth Ann!  I'll cherish that memory forever.  How coincidental that they are singing on TV right as I am typing this story about them.  Tissues, please!  I've become a "softy" in my old age!  Zac, you rock.  If you ever get divorced, please look me up :)

Whatever your life experience, anyone can relate to part or all of most country songs. There are many ways to interpret a country song.   Maybe, you are stuck in colder weather.  Moral?  Hop on a plane and get to that girl.  Or, boy.  Preferably somewhere really warm surrounded by water and lots of sand.  Think about the house that built you.  Moral?   Never forget where you came from and learn from your past.  Let it be a light to guide you to an even better future.  If you wanna sail your vessel 'til the river runs dry, do it.  You don't get a second chance at life, so you might as well do it big the first time around.  Stand outside the fire.  I double dog dare ya!

Sure, there are silly songs about trucks, tractors, drunks, etc...even those songs can somehow put a smile on my face.

As the title says, "if you don't know where you're going, you might end up somewhere else".  How true this is.  If you agree, check yes or no.  George Strait would be so proud.  If, while checking one of those, you fall down on your face,  just roll the dice and have some faith.  Because, after all, haven't we all gone just a little bit country?  I have.  And, I'm proud of it.  

Now, it's late.  And, I've gotta go ride on a big green tractor.  Okay, so maybe that means I'm just gonna go crawl into bed.  But, riding on that big, green tractor sure sounds a lot cooler.  Or, perverted.  Jason Aldean, I don't think you're talking about a piece of farm equipment.  Not even a little bit.  Not even at all :)