12WBT Spring Festival & Melbourne Half Marathon

So here we are, Part 2 of my epic story of a weekend. For Part 1, read my last post.

However, if you just wanna hear an overview of the actual main events, then this is the one to read!

So we're up to the morning I flew out.  I flew to Melbourne with my gorgeous friend Mel, and waiting for us, from earlier flights, were Donna, Julie and Alison. NOW it felt like a finale weekend! Seeing 12WBT friends at random airports across Australia is the most special start to any finale/festival weekend.

On the way into the city, I looked up, and I felt my eyes sparkle. It was like I was seeing Disneyland. There, outside the bus window, was this giant structure.

The MCG.

I'd seen it before, (and remember I am not a sports person!) so I usually would not care one

Donna and I on the bus

iota, but because of the MCG Dream, it took on a whole new meaning.

Look at it...glistening in the sun, waiting for me to run...by it.

My voice almost cracking, I said to Donna who was sitting next to me: "Donna, look, there it is. The MCG....."

As I looked up in wonderment and awe, Donna replied kindly:

"Oh, umm, that's actually Etihad Stadium."

Oh, ok. Moment over. LOL.

After checking into our hotels and a hangry satisfying lunch at South Gate, we went to pick up our race packs for Sunday's runs.

Friday night drinks

I was getting so nervous about the half, that I actually made myself sick. I don't know why I was such a mess. I'd love to say it was because there was so much personally riding on the run, and it was in a city I'd never run in before, but I actually think it was just me, losing belief in myself and my running capability. Hmm something to explore another day...

I kept teasing myself with the knowledge that I was allowed to downgrade to the 10km

Pre festival drinks

when picking up my race pack. But never one to take the easy road, I kept with my plan of a year, and picked up my planned half pack. The 6 hour cut off was making me feel a lot more calm. (I do it in 3, but the pressure of a time limit always makes me anxious and sets my breathing off track!)

There was no backing out now.

We went along to the Friday night drinks, catching up with other 12 weekers. It was a really lovely night - apart from the random woman who grabbed my arm as I was walking to drinks! What the??

And then Saturday was here - FESTIVAL DAY!

Before we could walk inside the pavilion and start the festivities though, I had my second 'shaken up' moment of the weekend, in the cab ride from

Festival breaky!

the city to the showgrounds, where the festival was being held. Not the nicest start to the day! Actually making it to the showgrounds was an ordeal, which resulted in a two way threat of having the police called. When things escalated beyond our control, I ordered us both (Donna and I) out of the cab; we grabbed the closest 12WBT'er we could find (thank you Liz Christie!!) as some form of protection / comfort and we went and hid behind a pavilion until he drove away. Far out! Melbourne, I like cuddles and calm! Why you scare me so?

Scary cabbies out of the picture, I had a great day. It's no major secret that I haven't been feeling great about myself lately, my self confidence levels making me a little quiet. But

:)

somewhere in between heart-on-my-sleeve chats with Larah, Vicki, Sue and Joady, seeing my 12WBT friends again and the general inspiration from the activities of the day, I had a ball. Thank you to my friends who made it special, the staff who made everything ok, and the kind 12WBT'ers who said hello, or told me that I'm on your fridge! It's kind of impossible not to have a great time at a festival.

My day started with the admins breaky and volunteer induction. I volunteered in the Mindset Zone for the morning sessions, so I absorbed as much inspiration as I could from there. Then a lovely meet and greet with

Mindset lesson

Mishy and a quick but yummy lunch, followed by cheering on my friends in the One Active fashion parade. Then straight into my afternoon sessions (all mindset for this blonde duck!), and I finally managed to have a super quick look at the sponsor exhibitors. The day always goes so fast!

Then, group workout time!

I always do the group workout. There's never a question. Even in Sydney 2012, when I had my moon boot on, I did it. (I was on the side, barely bopping up and down, but I partook). I was always going to do this one, too.

But as the day went on, I started thinking that maybe I wouldn't. I told myself it was because

Group workout

I was trying to preserve my energy for the half marathon in the morning, but it was really my stupid beated confidence.

I told myself I would do it, but at 50% effort and intensity. You know, for preserving all that energy and stuff. So I started at the back, on the sidelines.

By the end, I was going nuts, 110% energy, at the front. #shocker

I seriously can't help myself.

So much fun - our mini group in group workout

 
After a normal, calm, non-scary cab ride back, a shower, a carb loading dinner with friends and a late night panic when I couldn't get my new Camelbak to open to fill with water, I finally made it to bed. Tip - don't leave a stack of your running stuff in Brisbane, and don't try to figure out a new Camelbak at midnight before a half marathon.

I hadn't had a chance to think about the past weeks all consuming MCG Dream over the past 2 days. It was the festival of the Festival, and I'd had a great time, but now it was time to settle down and remember my big day that I had ahead.

30+ crew with Mish

I woke up, and was anything but being excited about my little run and ensuing MCG moment. I ran to the toilet twice while trying to put my shoes on. I was unbelievably nervous. I was suddenly insanely jealous of anyone who was able to sleep in that morning, and all I wanted to do was to crawl back into bed, and not run 21km in a new city.

But, it was partially the tiredness talking, and

My run stuff set out

I got myself together and left the hotel.

The fear was still there. And I suddenly got overwhelmed about the run being interstate. It's not that I'm not confident in new places. I flew around the world when I was 9 years old without my parents, guided by my Dad's typewritten instructions. I'm fine in new cities, I can read maps, blah blah blah, things like that don't phase me. Besides, I'd been to Melbourne before.

But this was feeling different. When I'm on my way to start lines of runs in Queensland, even if I haven't been somewhere before, I have an understanding of where the address is. This mornings address meant nothing to me. And

I left half my Polar in Brisbane! :(

this entire unfamiliarity was intensely fueling my usual morning-of-race apprehension. 
I forgot about my Google maps directing me to the start line and instead followed the lycra clad, laced up people milling the streets, trying to calm myself down. They all looked like they knew where to go, they looked safe, fit, confident.

I forced myself to eat a banana. I felt sick and I was trying so hard not to cry. I half looked up, half tried to post on Instagram about how I was nervous. (Coz Insta always helps).

And then suddenly, this light appeared. LOL. But seriously, it was truly like my Fairy Godmother had worked some kind of magic with a Genie in a Bottle, and as if from nowhere, 5 metres away, had placed Julie Caplice for me to find. Julie - my friend Julie. My 12WBT buddy Julie. My someone familiar Julie. My someone from my hometown of Brisbane Julie. My supportive, wonderful, comforting and calming Julie; she was suddenly
there. I knew she was in Melbourne of course, but it was a surprise to see her in front of me because Julie wasn't even running this morning. She was just strolling with her suitcase,

Following the sneakered people

trying to find a friend to meet for breakfast.

Pounce time.

"Juuuuuuulie!"

If inflections could speak, my cry out to Julie would have told a story.

I almost bowled her over. I can't hide how I'm feeling at the best of times. But this morning was out of my control.

"I am so nervous". My eyes told the story anyway, I didn't really have to tell her how I felt. She hugged me and I finally cried a bit. She was just who I needed to see. She walked with me for as long as she could. We asked each other why we do this to ourselves. I asked her why I paid money, to fly

Good morning Melbourne

to a different state, to get up early in the morning, and run for 3 hours. ??

She gave me the boost of comfort I needed, and I made my way to the start line. I cheered on my 10km starter friends, (not that they saw me!) and got excited when I heard Cathy Freeman was also running this morning. I tried to prep myself. My Camelbak, although filled, was now not dispensing water. Grrrr. Fiddling with this took over some of my warm-up time, but I did the best I could.

I turned on my latest running playlist, did some final stretching, and we were off.

Apart from the MCG Dream, this was also my 50th

First run in Melbourne

official running event, so it felt even more special. And despite me not being able to count on my other social media, this was my 7th half marathon.

Friends texts really helped. I started out easy, and took it all in. So this is what it feels like to be running in Melbourne.

I passed Flinders Street Station and smiled for the cameras. I was doing ok.

Finally, around 3km, my Camelbak finally started to work. I began thinking through my MCG Dream and what this run meant to me. I relaxed a little. I was pretty impressed with my pace, with my breathing and my

Run selfie ;)

body. All relaxed, just the way I needed it today.

Maybe this wouldn't be too bad. I was so relaxed and was pushing myself so little, that it was like I forgot that I was running. There was no pain, no anxious breathing, no tiredness. Ok, it was only about 5km in, but still.

And then.

There's always an "and then".

Runners started running towards me.

WHAT.

It was along the straight stretch of St Kilda Road. I didn't understand what was happening straight away. But basically, runners who had already done the loop, were on their way back. It's hard to work out who they were, as the leaders had already gone through alongside me, on a different path. I think these were the half marathoners, coming back. Geez, I was that

slow.

It didn't really matter who they were though, the point was, they were coming at me. As in, runners taking over the whole road, and running my way. Were they on the wrong path? Was I?? It was pretty overwhelming. I truly thought I must have gone off course. But I hadn't. There were just no barricades set up, nothing. It was pretty disappointing. I'd say that they didn't think there'd be anyone still running out by the time people started running back in? There were at least 100 people after me at this point. It didn't matter how it had happened, the fact was, there were return runners coming right at me, and I (we) were totally outnumbered by this onslaught. They took over the entire road, not realising some of us were still on the very left, running out.

The runners coming at me had to duck and weave out of my way, and stop taking over the entire road, probably ruining their pace. I started feeling guilty and jumped up to run on the

footpath. It was really embarrassing, too. I felt like this lone runner, slowlllllly running out, while what seemed like the entire rest of the race, started running in. It was humiliating.

In saying that though, 100% kudos to the runners themselves. At least maybe 4 of the top 20 runners, called out some words of encouragement to me. I only very rarely see this in Queensland runs. These guys are at the top of their game - pure focus and equal pace, and they still had the kindness to call out to me as they rushed past.

I couldn't wait to get off this stretch, and just get to the loop of Albert Park, where the course just went forward, with no runners coming the other way. I managed to

LOL

make it there, and relaxed. The next 5-7km or so doesn't need describing. It was just my time. It was exactly what I needed - quiet time to reflect why I was running today. It was like my own personal flashback movie to the past two years. Remembering things, moments, just reflecting. 

Stuff like this peps me up...thank you IG ppl!

I started wondering how the finish line would feel.  I'd thought about it a lot, obviously, but now started actually picturing it in detail - how the whole MCG Dream finish line moment would feel.  I considered that maybe it wouldn't feel Amazing with a Capital A.  I know of friends who were let down at the end of major events, because they were expecting This Amazing Feeling of jumping elation, and they didn't feel it.  Sometimes when we pin so much hope onto something, it doesn't feel how we expected - sometimes it can even be like an anti-climax.  

Dream

I wondered whether it would be like when I see my 1 year old niece Bella.  We have this special thing that when we see each other, I give her this massive grin, and usually throw my hands in the air and call out "Bellllllllla!"  Kind of like a happy kiddy version of The Glass Menagerie's "Stellllllllla!"  Her little face lights up, she goes to great effort to stand up, her little feet moving fast, sometimes she squeals, and she runs towards me.  (Yes, this is one of the best things in my life - lol, I get the biggest head).  It's like an airport reunion or Rom-Com Hollywood movie scene, every time we see each other.  Our meet ups should have a backing track, they're that dramatic.

But --- the cute thing is, she gets so excited, and she makes every effort to run over to me, and when she gets to me, she just stops.  She's too little to understand what to do with that overexcited feeling - it's the cutest thing.  She doesn't need to worry, as I of course scoop her into my arms!  But I started wondering whether my banner line finish today might be like that.  So much excitement, so much effort, I run towards it, here we GO GO GO!!!! ........And then when I get there, maybe nothing - no special feeling - it may not be a very dramatic moment at all.

I didn't know how I'd feel.  But I knew that it didn't matter.  As I was running, I realised that I already knew that it was about the process of me getting there - literally and figuratively.  I
didn't need a big dramatic feeling at the finish line.

(Do other runners also think through the worlds problems when they run??) :)

The awesome lolly lady

After the loop, I met up with the marathoners. It was kind of perfect for me. There weren't many of us half marathoners left, but the marathon had been going for an extra hour and had to do double the distance, and route wise, our paths met up for a similar return stint. I automatically felt calm, like I fit in. Not that I minded terribly, but doing the loop was kind of lonely. Meeting up with the large group of marathoners made me feel like I blended in. Unless someone really took note of the colour of bibs we were wearing, no-one would have known that I was a half marathoner running amongst mostly full marathoners. I rarely feel like I 'fit in', in events, so I relished this time, feeling calm.

I smiled at supporters on the side lines. There were a couple of people handing out lolly

snakes from an Allens packet. They weren't wearing a uniform, there was no advertisement or obvious business reason they were there. Just a kind soul knowing that a hit of sugar would be very, very appreciated by exhausted runners.

Around 14-15km, my feet started to hurt. I never get sore feet from running, but I did this day. I chose the wrong shoes for this run and boy, was I starting to realise it.

I was also starting to get that exhausted, 'I'm 3/4 of the way through a half marathon' feeling. And it sounds a bit sick, but I was actually enjoying it. I think it's because, for the first real time in an event, I let myself purposefully walk for a bit, during the Albert Park loop. It was something I wanted to try, and felt like doing at the time. It was fine, but it didn't feel right. I'm a runner, and I like to run. I don't regret it, but at the same time, I didn't love it. I

First sight of MCG mid-run.  SO awesome.

didn't feel there was any urgency, and it wasn't until I went back to running, that I recognised how I love the thrill and the effort, and how the sweat and exhaustion, although so painful, is satisfying even while happening, because you know how proud of yourself you'll be, when you make it through. I'm not dissing walking, it's just that for me, I'm glad I tried this because it confirmed for me what I love.

The closer we got to the MCG, the more the routes went a little more all over the place. Especially because the marathoners had another extra loop before they finished (compared to us). It started to be a bit unnerving, because I kept seeing runners on streets alongside me and across from me, and over from me, and I started worrying whether or not I was still on the right (half marathon) path.

There was one point around the 17km-ish (?) mark where I really started to imagine things and second guess myself. There seemed to be runners everywhere - and I couldn't figure

out how they got there. I did some quick calculations and couldn't work out where the marathoners extra loop came in. I hadn't seen any turn offs, and I started to panic that I could be on the marathon route. That was the last thing I wanted to do, do some extra km's! Surely the marathoners should have turned off by now? I could see my path about to curve around to the right, as if going backwards, and I was worried that this was the extra marathon loop. I shouldn't be doing that loop - but we were curving around - what if this was it??

On an anxious whim, at this point I almost crossed the street to join another path of runners, because I'd convinced myself so much that I'd gone off track. But I turned the corner, and clear as day, were some massive signs.

Full marathon and 10km LEFT
And
Half marathon RIGHT

I was actually so relieved (and can you guess, a little MCG Dream induced emotional), that I started crying a bit. Why was I worrying?? Of course the signs would be clear enough! It's

Donna made this for me for my run!  So lovely.

one of my biggest running fears, to go off course, and I've had a few close calls in my time that plagues this fear.  So on this day, I was so relieved. Everything was going to be ok.

I kept running, and after getting to 19km, I realised it was time to get my 'finishing song' on. I like to have a good soundtrack going on in my headphones when I go over finish lines.

I have a few favourite finish line songs, and I quickly decided which one I wanted for today. This one, for my run of epic runs, had to be a good one! It took me a while to find what I wanted on my iPod, my finger going around and around the scroller. I asked myself why I don't have my favourite finishing tracks at the front of playlists, or somewhere easy to find?!

Me and the MCG :)

It played for a while, but it wasn't grabbing me - so I changed it again.

Seriously Kate?? Just run!

I barely had looked up from my song selection, and my beautiful friend Alison appeared next to me! She was just what I needed at that point. She encouraged me along, and I tried to take it all in. This was the moment! The MCG was on my right - I was getting really close now.

But would you believe it, my soundtrack still wasn't right. I know you're screaming in your head at me- don't worry, I was doing enough of that myself. Screw the other songs, I decided that I vitally NEEDED to listen to "Stronger", by Kelly Clarkson. I estimated I had enough time to get the song up, and still have time to take in the moment before hitting the finish line.

It took me so long to scroll to the song, (it's hard to do while running!) and I also developed Runners Brain because I suddenly forgot my alphabet (?) and thought I'd gone past the song when I got to the letters 'Sto....'.  Apparently 'O' comes after 'R'?  I took so long mucking

Me at Jacq at the festival x

around with songs, that I looked up, and suddenly the finish line was there, just up ahead.

Far out, that came a lot quicker than I thought!

I had to forget about "Stronger".  It didn't matter about the music now.  I threw my iPod down my top and looked up for 10 seconds before I ran through.  A couple of people called my name (thank-you), and through I went.

And -------- I felt nuthin'.  Haha!  Thankfully I'd prepared myself for such a moment!  I hadn't exactly helped the moment be full of serenity or accomplishment by spending the last 2km fixated on my bloody iPod - but anyway!

But yeah, I didn't feel anything.  No elation, no relief, nothing.  If anything I was just a bit surprised, as the finish line seemed to come around so quickly.  I was also wondering where my friends were.  I knew Donna was waiting for me, and I thought there may be a couple of other friends, but I wasn't sure.  But apart from the kind

Instagram follower (!) xx and lovely man, no-one else seemed to be around for me.  No Donna or anyone...strange.

Oh well.  I was sure I'd find them - but first I needed my medal!!!

It was a bit crazy at the finish site.  It was a mass of people, with so many official 'medal holders' all over the place, all holding medals for the multiple events that were on that morning.  People were going in between them, trying to find the correct medal for their own events.  I joined them.  I went up to the first person, but they didn't have any Half medals.  I went to someone else.  They didn't either - they directed me to someone else.  The majority seemed to only have 5km, 10km and Full mara medals.  I got a little worried -
they'd better not have packed the Half medals away, or run out of them!  I wasn't that slow!

I went up to the third medal holder and asked if she had a Half medal.

She looked at me and paused, and very slowly, very kindly, explained:  

Volunteers and Mish

"Umm, I'm not sure how you did it, but you've somehow managed to finish in the Marathon section.  The Half marathon finishes somewhere else."

......................................

Maybe because she said it so kindly, or maybe because I knew that it didn't matter what happened at the finish line because it's the run that counted, but I was fine.  I mean, I wasn't happy!  I was pretty shocked....but I took this information in my stride.

She continued: "Maybe go to the finish banner and ask one of the officials what to do."

Mishy!

I thanked her for this very helpful bit of information (!), and made my way back to the finish banner.

I marveled for about 5 seconds to myself, about how well I handled this.  So impressive, Kate.  Cool, calm and collected, taking it in my stride.

As I neared the banner though, I noticed my breathing get slightly erratic...

Heidi :)

I got there and spotted a guy in a black shirt.  I'm going to call him James - he kind of looked like a James.  James looked about the same age as my youngest brother.  He was an official.  He was yelling at everyone to move away from the finish banner, to stop crowding and allow runners to have space to finish.  James seemed a bit scary, and definitely not the empathetic type that I knew that I needed to get me out of this little situation.  I decided to look for someone else.  But before I could, James met eyes with me.

I didn't have to say anything.  He looked down at my green half marathon bib, looked up at me, shook his head in amazement, and said "Wow...how did you manage to do that?"  (Go off course and finish in the wrong section!)

As soon as we met eyes, I felt my bottom lip go.  And as soon as he asked me that, I burst into tears.

Oh dear God, Kate.  Yeah, good handling.

However, James was phenomenal.  He immediately rushed in: "it's ok!  Don't worry!  We'll fix this!  It's ok!"

SLAP BANDS!  Best.thing.ever.

Hahaa oh, poor James.  Boys hate when girls cry.  They don't know how to deal.  But James was good! 

He must have sisters.

He immediately left what seemed like a very important posting at the finish banner, and led me away.  "Come with me - it's ok!  It'll all work out!"

He was so, so lovely.  James just led me through the crowd, me blubbering away like a lost child at a fair.  I almost grabbed onto his arm, there were that many people, that I kept almost losing him.  That, and he was my white knight, and I was beside myself.

He led me to a barricade that had a security guard manning it.  A guard yelled out at me as I walked towards it.  

"What are you doing?  You can't go over there!"

"I'm with him!  He's an official!"  And I pointed at James.

We kept walking over, and we got to the barricade.  James had to do some sweet talking, and yet still, a second guard yelled at me. 

"You're not allowed through here!"

I almost grabbed James for real this time, but I held off.  He seemed to handle tears, he may not appreciate me hugging his arm.

"I'm with him!  He's helping me!  I went the wrong way!" 

More tears.

Admin photo

The guard let James and the crazy crying girl through.  

James pointed.
He explained to go straight ahead.  

Find the road.

Turn left.

Go to the very end of the road.

"And you'll find where you're meant to be."

It was like lines from a self motivation book.

I very tearfully thanked James for helping me, apologising, crying, all of that.  Poor, unsuspecting James was released. 

And I now had to find my actual finish zone.

I couldn't believe it.  I still hadn't finished.

12WBT know that they need to power up the selfie makers!

I looked ahead and followed the instructions.  Straight ahead I had to go....there were people everywhere.  It was hard enough to walk, let alone run.  I looked at them all, with their shiny medals, milling around, kids and partners with them now, everyone relaxing, taking their time, because yes, they had finished their event - they could.

They were very sloooooow and taking over the whole path, not seeming to move.  I WAS STILL IN THE MIDDLE OF MY EVENT!  I was screaming on the inside: "Let me through, people!"

I kept going straight, and suddenly there were some stairs.  I was obviously a little bit overwhelmed by the whole morning, because the stairs almost rattled me.  Stairs?  Stairs??  James didn't say I'd see stairs!  Do I go up them to find the road?  Or keep going??

Arriving in Melbourne texts :)

I kept going - completely frazzled - I don't usually have to duck and weave through practically stationary crowds in the middle of my events!

I found the road.  I was so relieved!  I turned left, as he had said to do.

All I had to do was get to the end of this road (it was pretty long!)

I started my mission, and suddenly someone called out to me.

Lovely Larah x

It was kind of like the Julie moment from that morning.  There in front of me, was my mate Dean, from work.  Deano sits about 3 desks away from me at work in Brisbane - and out of the 30000 deep crowd, in Melbourne, I ran into him.

Dean was doing his first full marathon this morning.  Leading up to it, and all through my run, I was excited as I thought I would probably finish before him, and then I could cheer him over the finish line, and take photos for him, and support him....I had it all worked out.

Instead, here he was.  He called out - he showed me his medal - he'd done it!  Gone was the idea of me being his finish line cheersquad, there was none of that.  Instead, I said a quick well done, and then tearfully told him what had happened.  I had been planning on being this tower of support and friendship for him that day, and instead, I was a sobbing mess and broke down on his shoulder.  Augh!

He was lovely and confirmed I was going the right way.  "Just down there".

I apologised and said I wanted to stay, but I was in the middle of my event still, so couldn't
stay and chat!

#byosharpie

I kept going...I got to the end of the road.  I couldn't see any finish site or banner.  I started wondering if my friends were wondering where I was.  They told me later they were a bit concerned - most of the friends who were at GCAM with me, were here today - so they started to worry something similar had happened this time!

I looked around, and then suddenly, it all seemed to be like a scene from a movie or something.  It all happened so fast.

I kept searching, and found the finish site.  By now, there was hardly anyone there.  All I could see though,

Love Erica!

was the correct finish banner up ahead, and in the foreground, my beautiful supportive friend Donna, standing there with her camera, calling out encouragement.
I had to break through a barrier to get back onto my course.  And as I broke through, it all hit me.  The irony was definitely not lost on me.  I had gone off course, but had navigated my way back to where I meant to be.  It was scary and took longer than normal, but I had made it.  Physically, in the run today, and metaphorically, in the last 2 years with the MCG Dream. 

It hit me like a ton of bricks.
No wonder I felt nothing when I went through the wrong (Marathon) section.  My emotions were needed here, it seemed.

I ran ahead, and this time it felt ultimate.  I don't think it could have felt more special if I had dreamt it.

I ran forward, all I could see was the banner.  As I went through, I looked down, and there was a red mat that said the word "FINISH".  

Over.  It was done.  I had gotten there.

Suddenly, some arms reached out to me.  I think it was a combination of me being at the end of the last 2 years, the end of the MCG Dream, the end of the last 20min. debacle, and the end of running for 21.1km (or whatever I ended up doing!), but as soon as I realised it was someone I knew, my beautiful friend Leonie Grey, I lost it.  I fell into her, and started this weird howling.  I cried,

really loudly, and really deeply.  I don't usually cry like that.  (And, despite how many times I've described me crying this day, I don't even cry that often!)  But this was full on howling.  Leonie led me away from the banner, holding me up.  She probably doesn't know why I was like that, but Leonie, here you go, this is the moment in words. :)  I was also probably very embarrassing!  Not that many people were left!
Leonie had heard another guy who went through the banner just before me say that he had done the same thing and gone off course and finished in the Marathon section, so I wasn't the only one.  I had looked up a map previously but must have seen an old one as the Full and Half finished together in the one I looked at!

I calmed down really quickly, and then I was just in pain.  My feet were in agony - they were so swollen and hot and I wanted to take my shoes off like nothing else, but I had to now walk for a couple of km's to get to where we were meeting friends for lunch.  I won't describe how painful and slow that walk was, but I learnt a good shoes lesson that day. After a massive lunch (especially for Catherine!) and a quick shower in the hotel gym, it was off to the airport and back home.

Celebratory beer

So, all done!  An awesome Festival, followed by my most meaningful run to date.  Together with my most emotional finish to date!

And now, it's back to normal life.  I'll update soon as to what that means for me in the weight loss world, and where I'm at, at the moment.  One thing though, is I started the October round yesterday. :) 

Chat soon! xx

P.S. More photos from the weekend below!

 

Mel and I at Brisbane airport

Picking up our race packs photo shoot

Goal setting!

The festival

With the gorgeous Michaela and Claire x

Kym and I :)

Best showbags ever!

I'm in the 12WBT mag!

Sun rising over the MCG as I walk towards it to start my run :)

My post race support team!  AKA friends...Donna, Sharon, Leonie, Mel and Alison.

Chilling out, waiting to board our flight home

 

"One footlight at a time": The MCG Dream

I'm flying back from Melbourne and am feeding my urge to blog about this weekend as I type this into my iPhone 'Notes' app, to publish later on.

The clouds are turning pink, my legs are aching, my eyes have that sparkly post-run glisten, and I have a medal draped around my neck. It's been an incredible weekend and it's hard to know where to start.  (When do I never know when to start?)

A year ago, when I had itchy feet at work one day, I decided that I would do the half marathon at the Melbourne Marathon Festival 2014. I booked my flights to lock the goal in.

Coincidentally, 12WBT announced that their Spring Festival was going to be on the same weekend! Can anyone say "perfect"? You know me, Miss Finale/Festival Addict, I would have gone to the festival wherever, but fitting it into my already planned Melbourne trip was extremely convenient. :)

So this is the weekend that I'm currently on my way back from.

Now something a little personal, before we get to the festival / marathon weekend.  I wasn't sure if I'd blog about this.  This is one of my most personal and raw posts, ever.  But a couple of people have been open about sharing week (thank you Michelle Bridges and Tanja), and it gave me confidence that I could do the same.  Maybe my being open can help someone else feel less alone.  And even though I keep my blog private from my 'normal' life, maybe one of my friends might stumble across this one day, and understand why I haven't been on top of my game for the past two years.

I've mentioned a few times on my blog about my life a couple of years ago. I've mentioned my health, and 'a few things happening', and how I've struggled a bit.

I've written about bits and pieces on here, and mentioned things briefly to a few friends, but I have never told anyone in depth, just what has gone on.

In saying that, to explain everything would truly become a short story rather than a blog post, so I will summarise, but with the aim of being more open than I have been in the past.

(This actually does all connect to this weekend!)

At the start of 2012, I was doing ok. Life wasn't exactly a princess fairytale, but I was cool. I had as many ups and downs as the next person. We were all good.

Overnight, one night in January, I found myself lying in a hospital bed, frozen, too terrified to move, as I wasn't sure if any slight movement, could mean I could possibly die. I didn't understand what was going on, and particularly for someone who had always struggled with my mortality, I was completely petrified.

The health thing was something that was just presented to me, and I had to deal with it whether I liked it or not.  I got into a routine and managed ok. Getting a blood test as part of my daily commute to work became part of my current norm. I'd get a text every couple of days telling me what medication to take, and every few weeks, I inevitably ended up back in hospital with ongoing symptoms that needed to be checked. Emails to my family at 3am as not to wake them, and to my boss to let them know I wouldn't be at work that day, became a regular thing. This was how things were going to be, for a while.

It wasn't easy, but I coped. Some things were easier to deal with than others. Often at night I'd lie in bed with symptoms, and wonder if I'd be ok. There was no more being scared of my mortality, I suddenly was forced to face it.

I found solace in having brief chats with several people I knew of, who had my condition. When a couple of these people died, the terror would start back.

I muddled through.

But then a string of things just started to happen. Pretty stressful things. Things started to get overwhelming. I thought I was coping with the health thing, but I soon realised I was not. It wasn't obvious to me at the start, but every ounce of my energy was being sanctioned to cope with what was going on.

The overwhelming feelings grew bigger and bigger to the point I started having what I nicknamed 'stress attacks'. I'd run to the bathroom, hot all over, and physically spin, while holding the toilet cubicle walls to keep me upright. It took all within me to deal with everything. The stress I had became so great that it started affecting me physically. When someone became violent in front of me, I developed chest pains simply from stress. I became so constantly overwhelmed that I felt paralysed. Normal, everyday things became too much. I didn't know what to do - I was just coping as best I could.

And of course, I didn't tell anyone.

When I say 'normal, every day things', what does that conjure up for you? Think of what that means. Coz yeah, I did none of that. I don't mean events. I still went to work, did my theatre, caught up with family and friends, went places, did things. None of that changed. But everything else just seemed to stop. I didn't open my mail. I didn't reply to messages: texts, emails, all of the social media, all of it. Everything started to pile up. The more things piled up, the more they got too much, the more I felt overwhelmed, the more paralysed I would get, and the more I couldn't manage normal activities that I used to not think twice about.

Before this, I was a highly organised person. My To Do list was like a professional organisers dream. I'm a colour coder, highlighter in hand, stationary lover from way back.

All of this went out the window.

A few days ago, I developed a pain in my shoulder - it was out of the blue, and intense. (It ended up being Bursitis, but I didn't know straight away).  All I know is that it got so bad over just a few hours, that I almost passed out at work from the pain. I felt sick. I couldn't understand why just a sore shoulder was making me so unwell. One of my dear colleagues had to drive me home, and he explained that when the body's in pain, it will do whatever it needs, to repair itself. It will take things from the rest of your body to fight and repair, which is why you can often feel depleted and drained. Now I was pretty out of it, but I remember thinking "that is it."  That's what happened. Like simple Bursitis in my shoulder this week, that's just like I needed every shroud of everything I had within me two years ago, to cope with what was going on.  I had nothing left.

More stuff happened, personal stuff, more health stuff, work stuff.  The more stuff that happened, the more I struggled to cope, and the less I kept on top of the things we all usually do without thinking, to keep ourselves on track.

Things got more and more out of hand.  Little things grew into big things, and things snowballed out of control.  I don't have a partner to pay my bills and keep the household going when one of us gets sick.  It's all up to me.  So when I was out of action, so was everything else.

Things can only go unanswered for a while, before things start to happen.  Or stop.

One of my lowest points was one night, I was talking to my lovely friend Anna on the phone, on my way home.  I'd picked up a pizza to help numb the pain.  My basement has no phone reception, so as I approached my house, I told her I'd call her back when I got upstairs.

When I walked inside the house, my lights didn't turn on.  My electricity had been disconnected.  I sat in darkness, with my pizza, which I suddenly had no appetite for, and lit a candle so that I could see.  Everything had already fallen apart, but it felt like this moment was my total rock bottom.  But it's only at rock bottom, that you find your true guts and strength.  And I remember sitting, feeling my absolute worst, feeling worthless, but staring into the bright flame of the candle, thinking that somehow, I would make it through.  In the midst of despair, the flame of that candle somehow symbolised that I still had something left inside of me, and I promised myself, at that very moment, hunched over my turning-cold-pizza lit up by a single flame, that I would never give up.

I never did call Anna back that night.

Things continued on in this light.  I would try to get myself back on track and refresh my beloved To Do list, but I was just too overwhelmed.  The stress attacks continued, the feeling of being paralysed got worse and I developed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).  I was desperate to get my life back on track but I didn't know where to start to fix things.  This all began in January, and it was now October.  I had kept nothing up to date in 9 months.

Someone gave me the expression of "one footlight at a time."  If my ridiculous pile of paperwork was too big to tackle, that was ok.  Just break it down into even tinier than baby steps.  Maybe the first thing I could do was to just touch my paperwork.  That was it.  Just touch.  I didn't have to open any mail, read any letters..... just touch it.  Put it into a pile.  That was enough for one night.  That's how bad I had gotten.

One footlight at a time was a great concept that I have never forgotten.  But even touching my paperwork was too big to do.  That task alone, took me a couple of months.  Every time I thought I could see myself making a little headway, I'd just get too overwhelmed.  I'd start to see a glimmer of hope that I could turn things around but then I'd crash down again.  Things were still happening.  Emergency hospital visits became too regular to cope with: 20-30 visits in one year was just too much for me to handle on my own, and I'd cry silently in the early hours of the morning, shivering on the cold hospital wards, so alone and scared.

I may be making myself sound like a basket case.  But at the same time, I was handling
myself ok.  I somehow managed to stay afloat.  Outwardly, I didn't look too bad.  I worked, traveled, performed, attended everything that I usually would.  This was (coincidentally) the time I joined 12WBT and began losing weight.  I did that at the same time as all of this.  Somehow, amidst the chaos, I managed to lose 50kg and gain fitness.

I did pretty well, considering.  I just didn't manage to keep up with correspondence and organisation.  No longer was I a highly organised, in control, normal adult.  Instead, while I managed to maintain a normal life on the outside, I had long ago lost being in control of everything that makes your life tick over, in this day and age.

I did nothing.  I never (rarely) replied to texts.  Or emails.  Or Facebook notifications.  Or Facebook messages.  Or LinkedIn messages.  Or Instagram comments.  Or Instagram Direct Messages.  Or KIK messages.  Or YouTube, FitBit, MyFitnessPal, 12WBT, WeChat, my blog, Twitter, Snapchat, Slingshot...you get the picture.  And it wasn't just social media overload, if anything that was the smallest part.  It was anything.  I didn't ring people back.  I sometimes didn't even answer the phone!  I didn't open mail.  I didn't keep on top of organise-y things I had to do.  I didn't make appointments.  I let my insurance lapse.  I didn't wish friends a Happy Birthday.  I bought presents too late.  I didn't write down appointments.  I missed out on business deals.  My schedulers dream, synced colour coded calendar became lost by the wayside.  I became a scatterbrain, forgot things and was late to things.

My best friend from high-school asked me to film her mums 50th birthday party.  I did - but to get the video off my camera and to her was a whole other story.  Every time I'd see them, they'd ask if I'd had a chance to do it.  I felt terrible.  Usually I would be right onto this, and get it done the next day.  Now, everything made me feel paralysed.  I apologised and wrote down a reminder for myself.  I don't know why I wrote it down though, because I wasn't checking and keeping on top of my notes either.  I had notes and emails and scribbles to myself everywhere. 

I scraped by, but became forgetful, not myself, disorganised, and my word of the year, 'slack'.  Each time I apologised to someone for not getting back to them, I said that I was 'slack'.  I hate that word now.

I wasn't slack at all.

The truth was, I'd messed up my whole life and I didn't know where to start to fix it.

I sadly lost a few friends who were hurt that I didn't stay in touch as much as I'd used to.  I wish they had known that I hated my ways more than they did.  But how could I explain all of this?  Especially when I wasn't even communicating....

When things get so messy, and you lose so much control, it seems an impossible task to get yourself out of the hole.  This continued ...and continued.  I tried to pull myself out so many times, remembering the "one footlight at a time" analogy.  But PTSD is pretty horrific, and I would get too overwhelmed.

More than two years after that first hospital visit, I had somehow managed to gain the strength to believe that I could get things back on track.  That was the first step.

Actually putting it into place was a whole other thing.

Where do you start, when you have 2 years of disorganisation to fix?

Around this time, some of my friends began doing the "100 Days of Happiness" challenge.  Each day they challenged themselves to take a photo of something that made them happy. 

I had an idea.  What if I challenged myself to get everything back on track, in 100 days?  "100 Days of Organisation"?

Two years of filing

I brainstormed everything I had to do.  Everything I had skipped out on.  There were about 40 things.  Some were more important than others.  But each was important to me.  I knew, that if I could get each of the things on this list up to date, then I would be back on track, and back to my organised, and if anything, normal adult self.

I got excited and wrote up a plan on what to do each day.  I estimated how many days each task would take to get back on track, and scheduled it all out.  The first few days were great.  All I had to do was focus on one thing.  Yes, I had 39 other things to get through, but on this day, in my spare time, all I had to do was to focus on this one task.  The other things would come, in time.

It started to work.

After two years, I was finally starting to make headway.

It was like the first step of a million mile journey, but it was headway.

I think the first attempt went well for 3 days.

Then I fell over.  I skipped a couple of days when things got busy and my scheduling fell out of whack.

I redid my plan.

Attempt #2!  I think I got one thing done.

But it was still progress!

I rescheduled, again.

You get the picture.

It's not like I had to do a task and then it was over - I had to then keep it up to date, maintain it ongoing.  These tasks weren't huge things in themselves - but when you're playing catch up, 2 years worth is a lot. 

I rescheduled and kept trying, falling down often, but slowly working my way through each task.  Often as I'd start a task, I'd have a glimmer of feeling overwhelmed.  It was inevitable - two years of paperwork and such would make anyone anxious!  I'd avoided everything for 2 years, and now I was facing it.

A few months of doing this, and I was making progress, but not quickly.  I was getting a bit over it.  Life is so busy, it's hard to keep up with day to day tasks, let alone squeeze in the last 2 years.  Everything was draining me.  I finally felt strong enough to do the work and get back on track, but I just wanted to be at that point of being up to date with everything, and stop it dragging out, and stop the continual rescheduling.  I'd been gentle on myself up till now - I barely coped for a while, and then I slowly regained my strength.  But now it was time to get strict.

I decided to give myself a deadline.

For some reason, I thought of the Melbourne weekend.  What if - by the Spring Festival, and the Melbourne Half Marathon, I was up to date.  I knew the Melbourne Marathon races finished in the MCG.  My workmate Dean and running hero Aedita had told me how amazing it was, to run into the stadium after completing your event.  They made it sound like you'd feel pretty damn awesome.  Doing a run and finishing in there, with people cheering.  I'm not a sports fanatic - I've never watched a game on TV full stop, let alone one in the MCG.  It wasn't about the sport, it was just about how cool it would feel.  It's not too often you'd get the chance to run onto the field in there.  Having a symbolic end was a bit unnecessary, but it excited me, so I ran with it.

The MCG

This was it.  I decided to make this happen.  I would use my entry into the MCG stadium as my end point to all this stuff that had dragged on for so long.  It's a bit strange to plan a definitive end to something like this, I know.  PTSD and other stuff doesn't usually have an 'end date' or 'cure date'.  But I just wanted a deadline to have everything on my list up to date -
so I decided to include the associated feelings with it.  Stop it from carrying on any further.  Get out of the grips of it.  Maybe this could work.  I'm the one in the control, if I say it ends, then it ends.  Anything was worth a try.

I nicknamed it the 'MCG Dream'.  I didn't tell anybody, hell, I hadn't even told anybody about the last 2 years.  This was all for me.  I started visualising myself crossing that finish line, in the MCG.  Knowing that not only would I be crossing the finish line of my first interstate half marathon, but I'd be crossing the finish line of the past 2 years of pain - because I said so.  Taking the control back.

Soon after planning my special little goal, Deano mentioned that this year, runners wouldn't actually finish inside the MCG - instead, they'd finish alongside it.

What.

Seriously?

Usually I wouldn't care - sports, stadiums etc. mean nothing to me.  But this was different!  This whole thing was based around running into it!  I had even nicknamed it the 'MCG Dream'!  This change was completely inconvenient and misaligned with my personal goals. ;)

Jac James sent me this for GCAM - it was relevant again

I knew though, that it didn't matter whether there was a stadium lined with cheering people, or a tiny metal sign in a dead end street that said "Finish".  The point was in the journey to get to that finish line.

I had a couple of months to do this in - I had to work hard. But, as always, I stuffed it up.

I tried and failed about 10 times all up.

It then got to 5 weeks out, and I knew that I had to get serious.  This MCG Dream thing had me totally inspired - I didn't want to waste this motivation!  I decided to put myself into lockdown for 5 weeks.  If I wanted to cram the majority of 2 years of stuff into 5 weeks, I had to make some sacrifices with time.  For the 5 weeks, I decided to try to say no to anything I could, outside of work and normal, or major commitments.

I am really bad at lockdown.

So many things were important!  A family birthday.  This friend in town for 2 nights only.  Tickets booked to something.  This friend I've been trying to catch up with for months.  Another friend in town for a few days.  This friend really needs me.  A work function.  Work travel.  Personal travel.  A run I'd paid for.  Another crisis.

I didn't get to file everything by the 10th, but I sorted it into piles

I did my best - and outside all of the above, plus some, I said no to as much as I could, locked myself in my room and got to work.  Head down, bum up.

I was so completely focused - especially in the last week, I started getting up a couple of hours early each day, as well as limiting my already limited sleep, to meet this deadline.

Thursday 9th October night came...I was flying out early on Friday 10th morning.  I had been
going at a million miles an hour, working up to this night.  I hadn't slept in or watched TV or relaxed in 5 weeks.  I wanted to fix this so much.  I still had to do my filing.  And a myriad of other things.  I hadn't packed.  I was tearful and uncharacteristically snapped at my mum on the phone when she asked if I was going to bed soon.

'Countdown Reached'

And then, at exactly midnight, I relaxed.  I'd had a Countdown app on my phone that had been counting down the days until this weekend.  At midnight, I got a reminder on my phone that said "Countdown reached".  In an instant, those descriptive words relaxed me and made me realise just how much I had done.  No, I didn't get every single thing up to date by the time I flew out.  But I did my best, worked hard, and finished about 30 of the 40 things.  And I'd made headway in the 10 unfinished things.  Ok, so I had 200 emails left to sort through.  I had started with over 3000.  Things like that.  I was absolute light years ahead of where I had been for two years.  I was ok.  It was a "Reach for the moon, and if you don't get there, you'll fall amongst the stars" type scenario.  I didn't do it all, but I was definitely at a point where I could feel like I had it all under control, and I was confident that I could handle a "Stage B" of said tasks, after the weekend, and from now on go back to normal.

I ran around and packed my Melbourne bound suitcase, ready for the Spring Festival, and my most significant run to date.

Part 2 to this story, coming very soon! xo

Smudged mascara, exhausted selfie, after doing all that I could before I flew out

The countdown app I used

Running Geek

I'm getting my organised geek on big time this week - more on that later.

But one of todays tasks was to finally do a list of all of my runs etc., to record my run times!

You'd think I would have done this, before now.  I've been running for over 2 years.  Apart from the fact these last 2 years have fallen into an organisational crumpled heap, I guess I have also just had no real passion to do this.  Apart from making it under the finish banner before officials boot people off course, I just haven't ever been too interested in my times.  For me, until now at least, running for me personally, has been about complete other things.

Don't get me wrong - I take note of my times at each event, and look my results up, and discuss with friends, and try to recall whether that's "good for me".  But really, that's about it.  Sometimes I don't even look it up, and more than several times, I've had friends look up my previous results and text them to me, to show that I've improved.  (Or not, as the case can be!)  Maybe this makes me a non serious runner, but that's just how it is.  I run for my own

purposes, and up till now, those purposes haven't been highly speed based.

However. :)

As the ass print in my bed will prove, I have spent literally hours and hours today, going over all of my previous race results.  I wanted to do this for a few reasons:

• I have always meant to!
• For record management
• To finally allow myself to have a better understanding of my average times
• To allow me to develop new goals 
• To allow me to plan my next steps with running
• To get data to help me determine some health issues (ie. my back issues)
• To give me a bit of spark and excitement for future runs - actually make some time based goals!
• I also wanted to make sure I had saved all of my photos and race certificates for each event
• And lastly, I promised I would do this, here on my blog, a little while ago :)

I'm so glad I've done this list!  I ended up recording so much more than times.  It's basically a highly functional inventory of each of my runs to date.  Obviously, the plan is to now keep this up to date, at the time, from now on.

I got really into it, and also made a list of stats for myself, after looking at the data.  It was really interesting.  I recorded my PB's for each distance, and how many races I'd done in each distance, and how many runs etc. all up.  I included all event types that I've done, but the main purpose is for my running.  I basically included any official race event, including parkruns.  I'm going to get really nerdy and make some basic graphs to help me work some further stuff out, but that will come another day.

Anyway I thought I'd share some of my stats with you!

The most interesting thing I worked out, is extremely coincidentally, this Sunday is going to mark my 60th event, ever, and my 50th official run!  How special is that, and to work that fact out just a few days before.

Out of those 60 events, 36 were done last year alone, in 2013!

The 60 are made up of:

• 1 cycling event
• 1 walking event
• 1 obstacle event
• 7 triathlons
• 50 running events

Five of the running events are 10km events.  Out of the five, three of my race times were 1:17!  (1:17:12, 1:17:52 and 1:17:59).  I'm not the most consistent person, so this was pretty cool to notice.

I also noticed some not so great things, such as, I haven't been to parkrun since February!... :o

I'll pop some more stats up on the Kate Does Life page soon.

And, I'll report back in soon and let you know how my 50th official run goes on Sunday! :)

What's eating Gilbert...Kate?

Ok, that's a terrible title.  If you've never heard of the movie, then I apologise and just move on.  

So, what's eating Kate?

Well it depends how you look at it.  

Firstly, sorry I haven't posted in ...eeek... a few weeks!  I've got a few half written posts and

This week sucked, but I still got outside for a lunchtime walk!

lists, but things have been hectic and a bit full on.  I keep wanting to write a short post, an update post, post a photo, all types of things, but then I think "oh no, I need to firstly post about this or that".  So I keep putting my updates off.  (Thank you to those people who have messaged me to say they miss my posts!) xx

But, as out of order as it is, tonight I particularly felt the need to post, and I reminded myself "It's your blog, Kate!  You write when you want, about what you want!" :)

So, here we are, out of order, and what's on my mind right now.  Just what I need.

It's been a tough little while.  It always seems to be, lately!

In a high level nut shell, I've been trying hard this round.  Really trying hard.  We're just finishing Week 7.  I slipped for a week or two, but for the most part, I have been doing really well, and I'm proud.

I pulled myself back up last week after the slip up and so far I've been back on the straight and narrow for over a week.  I wrote a little blurb on my Instagram about this.  It feels silly to write how I've been 'going good for a week' when I started this lengthy adventure 2 years
ago.  But that's how I roll.  I'm probably the most inconsistent, time taking, up and down,
failing, slowest, stuff up person I know.  But I pick myself up each and every time.  I'll get there, and it's going to end up taking longer than everyone else I know, but hey.  It is what it is.  Some days it's just a day by day thing.  And I have to feel proud of that.  This is me and I'm doing the best I can.

Anyway - this particular good stretch - since last week, I've lost about 5.5kg.  Super stoked and all I'm trying to do is to keep going, and not give up.  And that's what this post is about.

This week has been incredibly difficult.  It's been the anniversary of an angel baby that was close to me (miscarriage) and even though it's been 4 years, this year was the hardest?  A
family friend passed away a couple of days ago.  A close friend is moving interstate in a few

days.  My brother has been deployed overseas with work which I haven't coped well with this time.  Mainly because due to this, my family can't be all together this weekend, which is something I've been looking forward to and now we won't be able to again for probably at least 6 months.  For some reason, the grief of my grandmother passing away in March, seemed to suddenly choose this week to hit me.  They say you can't tell when grief will hit.  It's true.  I've had some major stresses with work.  I really missed a few particular friends this week.  I've had some medical concerns and this week alone have had 4 GP appointments, 2 CT scans, a Doppler (Ultrasound) and I've put off having an MRI.  I don't know what's going on and I've been terrified.  And to make matters worse, I've been trying to deal with it on my own and haven't told a soul what's been going on.

That's all been this week.  I thought I wasn't coping very well.  Today I haven't been able to stop crying.

But I realised something that made me realise that, hang on, I'm doing better than I thought.

Over the past few days, I have not binged.

I have gone off track with food a little.  I aimed to get my 'Nutrition sticker' each day this week.  7/7 was the aim.

This week. Slowly but surely.

I won't be getting 7/7.  But - only because of slight mishaps.  I basically had a few squares of chocolate and a few chips.  That is all.  That may be confusing to read, me celebrating  eating some chocolate!  But trust me, what I just listed was practically like eating lettuce leaves to the average person.

When I go overboard with food - which is all the time - and especially when I get extremely stressed and upset, I go nuts with food.  Like, really nuts.

But as much as this week has hurt like crazy, no matter how sad I've been, I kept remembering my goals, and how important they are to me, and they've stopped me from going comfort food crazy.  My reminders I have scattered around the place have helped me.  I think "I might grab some chips later" but then see a countdown to a special date on an app, and I decide not to go for the chips.

Yep, I've had some chips.  Oh, and I also had some cheese tonight....  But it has been nothing comparitively, and that's what I'm focusing on.  It's helping me realise that I can get through tough times without the comfort of a truckload of food.  And it's also confirming for me, just how important my goals are.

I already knew they were important.  But the fact that I have been so strong this week just further validates it for me.

I've always been the stereotypical comfort eater and I'm slowly breaking my own mould.  I've

caught myself a few times this week 'comforting' myself by thinking I could just go and get *insert mega high cal junk food here*, "to make myself feel better."  That's actually how I think of it, in my head.  But each time, I try to counteract the thought.

I'm trying my hardest to stay positive - I'm aware that things could be a lot worse and I'm reminding myself of the good aspects as much as I can.  I guess it's just a lot of heavy stuff to deal with all in one week.  I have a lot of good people around me.  But when it comes to stuff like this, I deal with it all on my own.  It makes me tougher - but I guess it also makes things tougher.

We all have ups and downs all the time.  It's how we deal with them that counts.  I'm just keeping on going.  Trying my best each day.  Remembering my goals.  And moving forward even if it hurts.  

So, a lot is eating me right now.  But I'm not eating a lot.  Hence, the cliche, silly title of this post. #dontjudgeme

I'll check back in soon.  Thanks for listening.  And here's hoping next week has less tears. :)
xo