What It Takes

I wrote out a long 3 paragraph blog about difficult long term relationships and how life is a never ending maze of confusion. The following quote were my final thoughts. And honestly, all that should have been said.

"So even though, my world was in momentary chaos, I realized I am okay. And so are you. Even when we re at the bottom of it all, messy and covered in life's decisions."

We are put on this world for a lifetime because we have time to live. And living mine is a joy I take for granted entirely too often.

Fight or Flight

So I have come to a giant, humbling conclusion lately . I am really terrible at relationships.

I have officially been in Omaha for over 4 years now. (HOOOOOW did that happen?!) This means I have been in one place for the longest period of time since high school. How cool is that?! Cool and real scary. Really. Freaking. Scary. I found that living life with people face to face is tough. I haven't had any relationships face to face and day to day in almost a decade. I would live a year maybe two with people then move. I still keep in touch with those people, but they would exit from my every day. So here I was living my life with a series of really great relationships that were all long distance. I was a great long distance friend. I could hop on a computer or phone and text and Skype and Facebook the crap out of any of you. But live every day life? I am doing it so poorly. I am remarkably insecure. The confidence I once knew gets shredded down to bits and pieces because all of a sudden, my very broken self is under the light of every day, tangible life. I feel myself pulling backwards and inward. My constant inner voice asking "What if? What if you aren't enough, Grace? What if they get tired of you and don't want to live life with you after 4 years, let alone a whole lifetime?" The clear answer is that all those thoughts are garbage. And I know that they are..maybe.. some days. Some days I can only get out of my head long enough to function. I keep wondering why I am so tired all the time and how one can go from being an extrovert to an introvert so quickly. I wasn't really changing as much as just being a human.*gasp* Whaaaaaat?  Excuse me while I climb down from my stool where I stood thinking I was so different than all others. I, Grace, am a basic human with basic human struggles. My crazy is just as crazy as the next persons. They struggle just like I do. My frantic and extreme meltdowns don't feel so big anymore. I was told often as a little girl that I was over dramatic. Granted, I was very expressive of my feelings and emotions, but I took that little label and created a billboard with it. I made it my identity. Grace, the drama queen. Grace, the girl with too many feelings. Grace, the meltdown haver.

You guys.... I'm a normal freaking human being. I'm not too much. For this life or anyone in it.

So now that we have established my average human status, lets also point out, I am an individual. I do love so deeply and feel everything. I do get super loud when I am excited or surprised. I do snort when I laugh. I fail every single day along side continuing to succeed. And I am really bad at relationships. They scare me more than I ever thought they did. Emotional vulnerability and exposure are sometimes paralyzing. I had a panic attack a couple weeks ago.. It was a bizarre. I have never experienced one like that before. I have days where I spiral, but I can normally talk myself out of them or am able to just sleep off the insecurities. That day was a perfect storm. I tried over and over to pull myself out of the loud and dark doubts echoing in my mind but I just couldn't do it. After about an hour of it steadily getting worse, I found myself sitting on my bedroom floor, arms wrapped around myself and not able to take a deep breathe. Somehow I managed to text my little brother, asking him to come over. I was in a worse place by the time he was able to get there. Through some coaxing, he was able to steady my breathing and get me to string enough words together to tell him what was going on in my head. And I said a lot. I think I scared him as much as I was scared. I showed him the version of self loathing and hate that I fight nearly every day. And it sucked. I felt legit ashamed for days afterward. I let myself get into such a position not asking for help that I had to put him in a terrible situation in order for him to help. But he showed up.. just like he has every other time. And I figure couldn't figure out why. Except now. He loves me. For every normal, up and down feeling I have every day. For every doubt, fear and insecurity that makes me into his big sister, he loves me for it. Yet I let myself forget the why nearly every day. It is terrible! I'd like to stop forgetting. I want to learn to love being normal. If you're reading this and are one who gets to live our normal lives day to day together, help. Please help me to not forget to love being loved. It is so hard but it is what I want the most. I want to stop shutting out those who love me SO well and just let them.

Last summer was the deciding moment for me. I was just past year 3 and starting to feel my heart lace up her running shoes. I had a great conversation with a friend recently about the moment you decide to fight or flight. I knew I didn't want to run, but wasn't sure I was strong enough to face my insecurities and fears. Then one day, I remember driving by a favorite spot in Omaha and knowing I wanted to fight. I wanted to fight for this city, for this life I have built here and for those I loved so dearly. I wanted to fight for them and with them. I wanted to fight through all my crap and I wanted to come out on the other side. So here I am.. Year 4 and knocked on my ass. With a little pep talk and wiping of the tears, I am back on my feet. So come at me with your best shot, I'm not going anywhere.

The Open

  It would be fair to say if you stuck 10 people in a room at random, 3 of those 10 would know what I was referring to when I said the words, "The Open." 

If you were one of the other 7, let me tell you about this new "fitness fad" called Crossfit. Oh, you've already heard of it? Right, of course. People love to talk about it. Others get tired of hearing about it or are annoyed of the cult following it has. I cannot be impartial to either because here I am about to get on my box and rave about it. 

 My first introduction to Crossfit was when I watched my brother in law do The Open back in 2012. He was doing a workout and caught a squat clean on his knee, snapping his forearm the Tuesday before The Open began. It was horrifying. Nevertheless, he got a hard cast and the next week, he was back at it. So I watched again in agony as he killed himself doing bar over burpees one handed because of his cast. I remember thinking, "Why? Just stop. Please.. this is so dumb. I don't care enough about fitness to do that to myself. Crossfit is stupid. And so hardcore." The reality is I respected his dedication. But I didn't get it. The next year, he and my sister opened their own crossfit gym in Kansas. I was so happy for them but still couldn't understand all the crazy and weird stuff they talked about. My brother in law mentioned a book with "Supple Leopard.." in it and I was out. I was so proud of them both and the risks they took to launch their business. A year after they opened, my sister and one of my older brothers pitched in and bought me on ramp classes for my birthday at a gym here in Omaha. I was super annoyed. I wasn't going to freaking do Crossfit. I'm not an athlete and I will never look like those chicks on all of the promos about crossfit. "You've got to be kidding me" was all I was thinking. My sister kept telling me to just go and try it. The classes were already paid for. 

So I went. I went once a week for 5 weeks and learned about proper form and how to stay safe in movements and during WODS. (I also remember a distinct moment of rolling my eyes and saying, wtf is a WOD?) I survived the on ramp classes and didn't totally hate it because it wasn't long distance running. Still not enough to make me join so I said thanks and went on my way. Months down the road my now lovely roommate told me she crossfitted at a gym not too far from our neighborhood. I was in a place where I knew I needed to make some healthy changes because the the scale was on the rise again. As was my anxiety and depression. So I ignored my bank account screaming and paid my dues. We went to the early, 5 am class so I could get to work on time. It was terrible. I had never been so sore in my entire life. It hurt to sit down and pee. It hurt to reach up to the cupboard. I felt soreness in muscles I didn't even know existed. If I made it twice in one week, it was a miracle. I was so sore the day after a workout, I'd take the week to recover before going back. I time capped every workout and always felt so miserable and out of sorts. There was so much new terminology. The coaches always talked so fast and everyone seemed to know how to do it except me. Not wanting to look dumb or fall under scrutiny, I never took the time to ask questions or learn certain tricks. I mean.. it was 5am and no one wants to think that hard anyways. Meeting people was hard.. I was a social extrovert who was suffering from anxieties in other areas of life, so putting myself out there like a typical extrovert was painful. I felt so uncomfortable. Constantly. I seriously hated it. I couldn't do half of the movements required in workouts so why was I even there? So I showed up less and less and eventually stopped. I had a shame complex in giving up and owning my failure so I paid my membership out of guilt. Months later at the dog park, I ran into a couple I recognized from the 5am classes. The gal and I had done a couple workouts together as partners. I fondly remembered her cheering me on during wall balls once. We hit it off and swapped numbers, promising to grab a drink sometime. When we did, she told me of their plans to open their own gym starting that spring. Feeling a rush of admiration and nostalgia for my sister, I jumped in and said I would totally join when they opened. We became friends and I started to meet a few more of the people in the project. They were all young. No one over 27. They were so excited and spread those seeds into all who interacted with them. In the late summer of 2015, Climate Crossfit was open for operation. I had spent the summer running and doing a couple weird HIIT workouts here and there, trying to get ahead of the curve and ready myself to Crossfit again. Knowing people going into it put my anxieties at ease and I felt like I had a base knowledge to help keep me committed this time. Within the first couple months when I adjusted to being sore 80% of my life, I started to actually enjoy working out. I began to be fond of certain lifts and progressions. But most of all, I loved the people. I loved walking into a small space again and knowing most everyone in the room. During that season of life, I was dealing with some heavy baggage from my past. This began to surface and directly effect my workouts. The majority of "doing Crossfit" is mental. Those who can just shut their minds off and grind are typically your star boys and girls of this sport. I was surprised how often I would drag my baggage into the gym with me and how it effected my ability to perform well. With that came the next level of love I have for these people. It didn't go unnoticed so my coaches inquired about my life. That's not their job. They are there to teach you crossfit. That's it. However, I will bet you every cent in my bank account(it's not much, sorry) that you couldn't find a single crossfit box that is simply just a gym. People who own these gyms are special. They don't just show up and do their job. They pour their heart, time, tears, sanity and so so much more into every. Single. Day. And into every single person. 

It sounds silly but every time these coaches pushed me during workouts, believed in my abilities and pushed passed my mental game when I couldn't, it translated into my every day life. Because, friends.. life was real hard that year. When I was in my box gym, I would look at the board and see all the things I couldn't do. So I would tell myself, just keep moving. No matter what, just keep moving. I completed my first Veterans Day Murph in 61 minutes amidst thunder show and miserable conditions. That was the moment I knew I could "do" Crossfit. And love it. And hate it. And never give up on it. Or myself.
That first year was crazy. Movements and lifts just started clicking one day. I knew the lingo and how to properly scale workouts to my level. I slowly stopped time capping all of the workouts. I fought so many of my demons in that space. Ultimately, its you against you. You re the one who is going to have to move and get to the end. And so as I began to do the hard things in Crossfit, I saw that I could also do the hard things in my life. 

I did The Open for the first time last year. The crew was on me about it non stop and I was determined not to cave. Why give myself one more reason to fall short on something? But the week before it started, I sat in my car, cried and signed up. It seems silly.. why that was so emotional for me. It was as I said earlier, I was fighting for so much more in every workout than just a good cardio session. The Open was insanity. It was so fun and crazy. We did a ton as a community those 5 weeks. 16.5 was the final workout. It was a combination of thrusters and bar over burpees. I was in round 2 of like 5 and I hit a wall. Hard. My mind basically went "Nope." Oh, and there was no time cap. So there I was. My mental game in shambles, my safety crutch of time capping gone and it was just me against me. I remember my friend Patrick, who was judging me, saying, "You've got to move, Gracie. You have to do something." So I somehow did a few more burpees. Then a few more thrusters. At snail speed. I kept telling myself I didn't care. It wasn't worth my pride and that it was okay to quit. Then, as they finished, everyone came over to where I was and started cheering me on. I remember being on the ground, struggling to get out of a burpee, when my friend, LeAnn's face showed up and told me to stand up. Then jump. Then go down. And up. Jump over. She kept telling me every move to make and kept me going. Pretty soon I heard a buzz of people counting reps out for me, telling me to do "One for the Corps", one for them, one for peace. So after an excruciating 36ish minutes... I ended The 2016 Open as I started it. Crying. But this time the tears weren't of fear, but of pride. And exhaustion. I still don't know how I finished that stupid workout. I tease about how I blacked out and don't remember doing it, but I do. I remember every voice cheering me on and telling me I could do something I had mentally already decided I couldn't do. So when people tell you about Crossfit.. it's probably not because they want you to do some crazy fit of exercise. It's probably because they have had a similar moment. The moment you realize it is more. More of what, is for you to decide. But if anyone tells you they have only ever done crossfit for strictly the exercise, they re probably lying. What we as crossfitters want more than those rock hard abs and a good butt, is for our people to know they can do hard things. And not only survive them but thrive through them. 

I signed up again for The Open this year. I am recovering from some gnarly nerve damage in my sciatic nerve, so it seemed pointless at first. I can't do half the movements so why compete? Because all of a sudden, The Open isn't just for me, but for my community too. My only goal this year is to be in a place to cheer on someone and help them see the hard things they can do. Just like my people did for me last year. So if you haven't signed up.. please do. Even if you need to cry first. It really is worth it.

Cheers! 

Politics

So here's your cliche start to any good political rant "I'm not big into politics but..." Or "I never say anything about so and so but.." 

Here is my big 'ol fat 'BUT' for you... 

Donald Trump. Republican nominee for President of the United States of

America. Never have I ever had such a strong opinion about anyone in my life. 

As most any of you know, last week released the first of now many allegations  of Trumps sexual indiscretions both verbal and physical. That article. That clip. It struck a chord with me. I have learned a lot about myself in these 25 years on earth. One of them is this: I am very good at down playing deeply felt and highly reactive emotions I have towards something controversial. I am a people pleaser. I don't want to cause conflict if there isn't any and want everyone to find a happy balance. A grand optimist in all outcomes. So as it turns out, I had a very deep and highly reactive response to hearing Donald Trump say he "could do anything" and "grab them by the p****." Let me tell you just how deep those words hurt. As a woman, who has been "grabbed by the p****" and demoralized as to nothing more than a play thing, I am appalled. I am appalled that this is the IMAGE we are giving to our daughters and sons as someone who stands by what the Republican represents. This is the man who will not just "be in office 4 years til we come up with something better." This man will be sworn into the history of our country as a voice, a face and a mark maker for so many years to come. 

I posted the article about the leaked video of Trump's "locker room talk" with a plea to all my Facebook friends to not vote for him. Of course, it spiked many unwanted comments about voting and the "politics" of it. What I didn't expect was a text from a longtime friend. She said in light of my FB post, she felt it on her heart to tell me she was going to vote for Trump. I was taken aback but wasn't super surprised she was choosing the Republican Party. So fast forward a week later and here I lie in bed at 3 in the morning, unable to shake off why that text was bothering me so much. I ended up texting her back and explaining why I couldn't vote for Trump and why my plea was so adamant. But then after reading it, I started to cry. I was suddenly overcome by the helplessness of our broken world. We, as just people, are broken. We as an American society are broken. And it's not going to be fixed by a great president, or an agreeable Congress or religion or every day being free pie day.(although I support that.) We have to start in our homes. In our neighborhoods and in our children. Gone are the days without Internet and not having access to the world. We can't protect them and their innocence like our parents did with us. We can only educate them. Teach them the difference between words and actions and how both are harmful and have weight. Teach them respect and conviction to take a stand. Teach them to be passionate but to do no harm. Teach them to love. Because if nothing else, simply loving a broken person can change the trajectory of their life and all the lives they interact with. It is impossible for us as finite humans to change the heart of another person. But we can love them well. Despite all their crap. Sadly, all of that doesn't change the fact that we still have to vote on Nov.4th... So when it comes to that, I can't tell you what to do. 

So in conclusion to my political rant... Please love well. Be better. Because I truly believe in goodness. It's there. Let's dig deeper, my friends. 

Cheers! 

Observations

Some observations I have about life and my day so far. 

*Nanny life... It isn't easy. It's compared to being a parent often, but I would not consider it remotely close. Being a nanny isn't better or worse, it's just different. Like any interaction with a human, you have a relationship with the kids you take care of. It's not like a mommy or daddy relationship. It's unique to itself. I spend give or take 50hours a weeks it's these kiddos. They are who I interact with the most every day. They re my friends, my comedic relief, my dose of reality, my depths of despair and always my questionable levels of insanity. I think about them when they re not around. I always pray that they behave well for their parents at night. That they will follow through on all the hard work we put in every day. It's a beautiful picture to paint, but being a nanny is hard. It's my life but it's also my job. My job is based around their levels of education and are they meeting required milestones. My life is showing them to see life through many scopes, teaching them to think outside of themselves and to be something bigger. Giving them the freedom of independence and cultivating kindness. I want them to be great and confident and fearless. You might be thinking, 'sounds like all the things a parent would want for their kid too. Aren't you treating them like a parent?' No. I don't want all these things for them because I feel like they are my kids, but because they are kids. My desire for my nanny kids isn't just for them. ALL kids deserve to have those things. As a care giver, I'm not just raising  kids, I'm raising the future of our society. Not just bc I'm a nanny...but because I am an adult. I felt the weight of this responsibility lately. That this is more than just a job, it's life. And it isn't just my life, it's all of ours. We all have this responsibility to kids. It's hard because I constantly forget. I go home and I get caught up in my life and my struggles and I forget that when I go through tough times in life, they do too. When I am stressed and tired from not sleeping and spend a day with them constantly frustrated and impatient, I put strain on our relationship. Teaching them to trust me is a harder task than I ever imagined. Between their parents and myself, We are the first experience they will ever have in trusting someone fully. You can see that in all adult lives. People's stories matter because we are actual products of how we were raised. We, as a adults. get to choose to be refined or remain as we are. When you have a relationship with a little one, they love better than all of us. When I'm sad because of things in my personal life, they pick up on it and I get more hugs and more kisses that day without even asking. When I have to apologize for getting upset with them for unwarranted reasons, they are so quick to forgive and give me grace. Maybe we as adults need to continue to learn from the ones we are teaching. I know I do. Ever day. Because relationships grow us. Constantly. There is weight to being a person! And I feel like it's time we all start feeling it.* Clearly I'm in tune with my emotions, I cry over anything and everything lately. (🐶, Last night it was the New Girl finale) I think I finally realized I'm allowed to feel emotions as an adult because sometimes I am sad. And I am angry and I am oh so happy. And sometimes I want to scream. My kids taught me that it's ok to feel those things. Zander saw me sad one day and told me it was ok to cry if I was hurt and he d get me a bandaid. Emotions are real and valid. A six year old taught me that.again. 

So here I am, sitting in beautiful green grass observing my two nanny kiddos play in the sand from a distance. I know they will come calling when they can't figure out a problem or when they need a booboo kissed. They trust me to be sitting here. But what I realized today is that I trust them to come to me as well. Because that's what a real relationship is. 

*Cheers* 

The Simple Things

Goodness, it seems like the longest days always have the best sunrise the next morning. As I made my coffee this morning, bracing for long day number two, spunky Handsome Man(2) climbed up on the counter for a drink of water. Now to be honest, he is probably thee messiest toddler I have ever taken care of. The kid has no gauge for neat and tidy. None. So naturally, one simple glass of water typically ends with all but one sip all over the floor, the dog or himself. This has led to many daily conversations of me repeating "No messes, Buddy. No mess." 

You see where this is going yet? 

So as I give him his glass of water, he spots two more on the counter and makes his way over to them. And so begins the game of pouring water from one cup to the other until all the water is no longer anywhere in the cups. I just kind of sigh and say, "Buddy.." He immediately turns to me and flashes his cheesiest grin and says "No mess, Gwace! No mess!!" It was perfect. I tear off a paper towel and hand it to him, telling him he needs to clean up after himself when he is done. As I settle in with my coffee, I just watch him. It was one of those times when you think of how much more kids enjoy the box their toy came in than the toy itself. It really is the simple things. The little things. 

These thoughts took its natural turn and down a rabbit hole... You all know how I am. So here it is. Children all over the world don't even have the luxury of cups let alone water to just play in or sadly, drink. Yet those same children still learn and grow. Their brains don't stop growing because they don't have tools to develop. They naturally find or create what they need to thrive. Handsome Man has all the learning tools he could want at his finger tips yet for him, he wanted to displace water. And that is awesome. I guess there is no depth here other than an observation and an encouragement. As adults, I feel like we get SO caught up in our jobs, making ends meet, our friends, our workouts and our hobbies that we forget. I know I do. I forget how significant and incredible the simple things are. In a world that waits on pins and needles for a lottery winner, take a chance to look at some of your little things. I can promise you if you look long enough, you ll probably find you hit jackpot already. Today, mine is now soaked and sucking water from a sopping paper towel. :) 

Cheers, friends! 

Multiple Accounts

I realized today that I have multiple accounts for almost every social media profile. Why is this? Am I the only one who wants a piece away from all those people who already have so much of me? I started a foodie Instagram account about a month ago and I LOVE IT! I feel like it is a special place for all the things I truly love outside of my day to day grind. I have the greatest job. I get to work with three incredible tiny humans and I post pictures of them constantly on my first account. But my new account for some reason, I want to be void of that specific hat I wear. Is it an identity crisis? It could be. I sometimes have to go home and remind myself I am a single, 24 year old woman who has lots of freedom and love left to give the world. It's really easy to sink into this hole of being the single caretaker of 3 kids who suck me dry of everything I have. That I can only come home and sit in front of the TV and live vicariously through the life of characters. 

Those are lies.. And some days I believe them. Today isn't one of those days though. Today I believe in my ability to work 14 hours, go home, love on my dog, read a good book and have a conversation with my roomies. Or grab a drink with a friend after a long day. Or find a food truck for late night street fries. Because I live in this world. I can wear many hats and love many things. I have no identity outside of Christ, which frees me to identify with what I wish. So here are a few of my favorite things this week.

My dog who I feel like I never have time for and loves me anyways 

I wasn't kidding about those street fries. Thank you, Local Motive! 

My Crossfit gym lets me bring my dog inside while I workout. They re so great. I love my gym. 

My niece did my hair and make up one weekend and I felt like a million bucks! My short hair allows me to do lots of fun retro do's. 

I once went to a music festival and flirted my way into free beer because I sometimes open my mouth and say funny and clever words. 

It is unknown to me, even now, why I love men and bears so much... Large, hairy creatures. It's weird. No, I'm serious.. Look at my phone case... 

My 14 year old niece once designed me a chest tattoo and to this day, think it's super rad and would love to get it one day. She is so awesome. 

Ok.. One more. 

Cheers!!