Gaining Ground

It's been a while since I have taken the time to write. I want to be writing about happy and wonderful things but I also want to be real and raw. And life isn't always wonderful. 

Everyone has a vice. Mine is clearly running. It's the only thing that show's up every morning as long as I do. I can always count on it to push me to my absolute max...as long as I put in the work. Running will scrape you from the deepest pit of darkness if you use it. And it will help you enjoy everything you have to be grateful for if you allow it. Like so many things, it's a give and take. As long as you put in the work...it will give back every single time. I have learned that is a lot more than you can expect from most people. Just because you put in 110% doesn't mean other people will. Even when I am injured...the thought of being able to run sooner keeps me doing my rehab and exercises. No matter how heavy life gets and how much pain I am in...I can count on the inevitable ability of running to practice tough love. Sometimes, that means that I am only able to walk. Sometimes that means, I can walk up hills and jog the flats. But my favorite is when it means I can bomb the down hills pain free.

Sometimes you are draped in loss...and sometimes injuries happen and if you are real unlucky or if the universe thinks that you are just that tough....they happen at the same time. The amount of time I have spent processing this is kind of amazing. If I would've been able to throw myself into just running during this painful time....I wouldn't have processed as effectively. I am 31 years old and drowning in this feeling of belonging no where. My skin feels wrong...my mind is clouded with negativity and I am suffocating in this feeling of impending doom. But, there is something so very vivid and powerful of allowing myself to feel all of those intense and overwhelming emotions without covering it up or dulling it. I could take all of these feelings and fears and throw them in a box and forget it for as long as possible...I could keep adding to said box until one day it just overflows, touches and taints the rest of my beautiful life. But, the fact that I did get injured and was forced to come face to face with some pretty heavy demons....I am processing it all--> one tired and painful step at a time. Sometimes, taking care of you....and making sure you are ok isn't pretty. Sometimes, it is down right just awful. But, in the end I know it's going to make me better. It will make me DO better. I've thrown on the running shoes since my ankle has allowed it. And now I am processing while running. I can feel each step and each painful hot breath through my lungs and I am grateful for life. Pain means I am breathing and that I haven't given up. Pain means I am still here and that there is still chance for me to do better.  Not everyone gets that chance. 


SO, as the losses just keep on coming....whether it's a life I thought I was going to have, or friends and family I thought would stand by me or the inability to just go out and run 30 miles right now-- I am choosing to be grateful. Grateful for the little moments that remind me it's not all bad. Grateful for the people who have taken the time to be there for me and grateful for the people who've walked away because I'd rather know where people stand with me...and if I can count on them or not before I actually need them. Attacks have been coming from every angle of my life lately. Left and right...I am being pushing into a corner that makes me choose right then and there if I will be a victim or if I will walk away and grab the life I know I deserve. As I climbed up Angels Rest this past weekend (the 3rd trail run of the day) my legs were tired and my soul was weary. I felt like I had lost everything. I felt like I was alone. Feelings are a funny thing. When pain takes over it can make it pretty hard to see the truth. Truth is, I have so much in just having a choice on how to live my life. I have a choice on how I am going to react to everything happening. The freedom of choice and my ability to adapt to whatever is happening is a gift.  Arriving to the top of angels rest I hit my knees and cried. So much loss and so much pain. I took a deep breath and realized how much I still have and how far I've come. And these wonderful strong legs got me here. 

Netflix on the Fringe

January 21, 2011

6:19 AM
I woke up humming an old devotional song from youth group... "...oh lord prepare me to be a sanctuary, pure and holy, tried and true......" I grabbed a glass of water and crawled back into bed. It was the first night I had slept more than an hour in 6 days.  It was restless. But, it was something. A couple moments of reprieve from my 6 days....25 years of a cruel teeter totter...weariness clung to my bones. I fell back into a fitful sleep.

6:43 AM
I knew it as soon as my phone went off. I heard the ring pierce the air. [ Milwaukie, OR] I answer "Hello." It wasn't a question. It was more of a permission for them to proceed with the reason they called. " Is this Ashley?" "Yes" ....." I am sorry to inform you that Paula passed away about 15 minutes ago." Silence. More Silence. Finally, my response is ..."15 minutes ago? And you are just now calling me?" ... the conversation ended with her offering me the name of a grief counselor and a lock of my mothers hair." I remember walking to my closet and grabbing a pair of soft socks and tugging them onto my feet. I went up stairs and sat on the couch. The book on natural remedies was still laying out on the table from my research the night before, next to the Netflix DVD's I needed to return. I had stayed up until 3 AM searching different remedies for liver failure while Fringe played in the background. As if I was going to do what doctors hadn't been able to do and what my mother had no desire to do. She died 19 hours after I got her into hospice. I had spent the last 6 days at the hospital and had needed food, shower and some rest. It's like...the moment I stepped away with her she took it as permission to let go.

January 22, 2011
Before the sun AM

I walked into my mom's apartment. I had ran through the streets of Oregon City at 3:30 that morning.. I ran hard. I sobbed. And then I ran harder. If I had wheels they would've fallen off. I was drowning in my grief and I didn't know what else to do with the day. So, I went to my mom's apartment. Maybe to feel closer to her. I am not sure. As I passed her coffee table my stomach dropped through the floor. Rewind to about a week before my mom ended up in the hospital for the final time...She was gushing about a purple scarf she was making me. She had no idea that purple was my favorite color....when I was 6. But, seeing as my mother wasn't someone who went out of her way to do nice things for people, I was grateful. The half unmade scarf draped across the table and needles lay on the floor tangled in a mass of purple yarn. The purple yarn seemed to crawl into my chest and wrap its way around my heart and started to tighten. It sat unfinished like all of the unsaid spoken words between us. I turned away from the painful display of unfinished kindness and headed to the kitchen. An untouched bologna sandwich lay on the counter, uneaten. Like many, I have had a lifetime of painful, heart wrenching and suffocating moments. Not many can compare to the sharp pain that bit into my heart at that very moment. She was the third death in 3 months. The final straw that I was sure would break me. I loved my mom. However, at 41 years of age all she loved was Vodka. My mom had demons and wasn't given the tools to handle this world, take care of herself , or love me. Conflicted between the relief of her suffering being over and the loss of a mother who was more like my child. I took care of her. I answered the phone at 3AM to hear her rants and I brought her groceries when she used all her money on other things. I watched scary movies with her even though I hated them...just so I could spend time with her. At 10 years old, I spent many Saturdays sitting next to her watching Lifetime movies, drinking sweet tea and eating artichoke hearts, just to be near her. She loved me on her own terms. But, it was all she could do. I have learned that you can't force someone to love you and a person who loves their addiction more than anything will never be able to love you like you need or want. You will never be a priority to them. You will always be expendable. But, I supposed everyone has their demons.

March 3, 2017

That distinct smell of rubbing alcohol and cigarettes will snap me back to her side in an instant. Smells are funny that way. You are present in the moment and then BOOM ...you are thrown 20 years into the past. Every day I think of her....something will remind me of her. Those fleece jackets with cats all over them, Chihuahuas, someone asking for help on a simple computer task, solitaire, those velvet coloring posters, that old perfume in the white and black bottle shaped into an exclamation point, Coors and yarn. The laughing and smiles and affection that only came after 3 glasses of boxed wine. So many things have changed since then...life goes on doesn't it? I threw myself into running. I ran every day for months. I ran my first half marathon and then full marathon. Then another and another. Then I ran an Ultra and then another. PR after PR and adventure after adventure. I went from never hiking alone to running 25 miles by myself in the gorge, following a map I drew on my inner arm. I started really living....since she no longer could. I changed jobs, started drawing and writing again and then moved a total of 5 times. Through it all...I held on to those Netflix movies I had the day she died. All I had to do was drop them into the mail. But, for some reason I wasn't able to. It was basically the ONLY thing that hadn't changed since she died. 

                                          

Those 2 Netflix movies.......Today, I took them with me ..and dropped them in the mail slot. I don't know what I expected to happen. Fireworks? Massive rainfall? Some dramatic music? However, I did feel a strange sense of relief. A moment of exhale. A deep breathe after holding it for a long time. Such a silly thing. Netflix movies....as if holding on to those movies changed anything at all. Loss happens, coping happens...all the while life keeps going. You hear it all of the time....it's not what happens to you. It's how you handle what happens to you that matters. Just life doing its thing...shaping us into stronger and more unique individuals. We experience loss and gains... we grasps outlets for coping and moving on. Finding things that bring you joy and looking for ways that help you let go of past hurts and loss are what you have to do. Something as small as returning those meaningless Netflix movies you've been holding on to for 6 years is just apart of the process.

::Running Shoe Love Letters::

  It's dark. I can hear the rain crashing into the asphalt outside. She's stirring. She's hit the snooze twice but I think she will be up soon. I sit up straighter hoping that she will be unable to resist me. The automatic coffee maker just started and I can smell hints of chocolate and caramel. She loves that stuff. She has a cup before she even looks at me. She has her running clothes and reflective gear sitting on the table awaiting her. I watch as she tests out the head lamp. But, I am still sitting here by the door. Waiting patiently of course. She's walked past me twice and hasn't even looked at me...is she going to change her mind? I know sometimes, when she is feeling really low, she gets ready for her run...everything ready to go, but me. And then, after staring at me for a few minutes, she turns off all of the lights and crawls wearily back into bed. I hear her sigh. I know she will regret not utilizing me this morning. It will fill her every thought in every minute of the day. If something bad happens...she will think to herself "I should've ran this morning." She will feel like her clothes don't fit right and like she doesn't fit into her own skin. She will second guess her every decision. She will be uptight and irritable... All because she skipped her time with me. But, that doesn't happen often. Usually, I smell the coffee first and then 5 minutes later her alarm goes off. Sometimes, she even wears her running gear to bed...so that she doesn't have to worry about it that morning. She stumbles into the kitchen and retrieves her coffee. I know she might be talking herself out of our visit. No matter what she does though... she can't help but look at me. In the end, she knows the comfort that I will provide and that I will always be there. Anytime with her is better than none at all.

     Finally, she gathers me up and we head out. I can feel her heavy breathing and concrete legs. She's struggling to warm up. It's colder than usual this morning. She had a fitful night of sleep...and this is her solace. I will be here for her in any way that I can be. I don't know that anyone knows her as well as I do. You see... we've shared so many miles together. I've felt the wiggle of her toes after the climb of a hill. I've heard every F bomb she's uncharacteristically dropped due to the difficulty of the climb. I've felt her sob when no one was around on a dark trail and heard her laugh out loud in front of strangers. And as snow sprinkled heavily from the sky...I caught her putting her hands out as if to savor each frozen flake. I was the first one she turned to after her parents couldn't take care of her anymore and the first one she turned to when she was looking for freedom from her demons. However, I was also able to see her cry tears of joy when she reached the top of Mt. Chinidere and Munra Point. A tall feat for someone so scared of heights. I was there when she completed her first mile and her first Ultra. I was there the day she fell and broke her arm and I was there where when she was covered in fog and the dear ran out right in front of her. My girl is so much stronger than she thinks she is. The day after mouth surgery, I talked her into a 16 miler on her favorite home trail. She ran 20 instead. Sometimes, she laughs after she hits 10 miles because, at one point in her life....1 mile was torturous. I saw her when she got sick at 1 mile after years of not spending time together. And, I even get to debut on her Instagram on really messy muddy days. There hasn't been much that I have missed. I love our time together even though she is sometimes reckless with gravity and can be heavy with emotion. She throws me into unseen tree roots and slips me across wet mossy rocks. She trips and falls and runs into things. Makes me laugh when she jumps over a puddle and ends up in the middle of it. She doesn't mean to. I know that. I am probably the only one who finds her clumsiness endearing. Plus, I don't like it when I am all that clean anyway...but don't tell her that.

 If you were to ask me about her I would say.... She loves to take the hard way up the mountain and she enjoys running in the mud and splashing in the puddles. She loves the pull of gravity when speeding down hill, because it's the closest to flying she will ever get... And that she actually likes it when her socks get wet...just so she can enjoy the feeling of being warm and dry later.  Maybe it's because she missed out on the child like puddle jumping, when she was little. I wasn't there much for her during that time in her life. She didn't let me. She spent little time with me then. I can't blame her...she was barely breathing sitting still...let alone spending time with me. I do have a memory though when she was 8. She got off of the school bus and it was pouring down rain. She took me in her hands and then she ran thru the puddles and torrential downpour barefoot, all the way home. That was fun...and I didn't even have to get soaked, but I got to be there with her. Even though life changes so frequently, I know that SHE knows I will always be here. I will be there for the quick 3 miler before work or the 8 miler after work. I will be there for the 16 miler thru the forest or to the top of the heights she is so scared of. I will join her for stair repeats at Mt. Tabor and snow shoeing at Mirror Lake. As long as she is willing to skip the snooze button, I will be there waiting by the door for her to snatch me up and take me on an adventure. I don't want to miss each unsteady step or fierce climb. I don't want to miss anything. No judgement ever...no criticism for the way she dealt with the day before or the irrational feelings she can't contain. Just like she longs to be free, my laces itch to be tied and can't wait to hit the trail,, road, or god forbid...the treadmill. Because, in the end....we are in this together.

1986-2016 meet 2017

 -2016-

I've sat down to write this post over and over again but haven't been able to find the words. How do I be honest and show heart without making others uncomfortable...without seeming negative or "poor me". Most people don't like to see the "bare all, heart on the table" vulnerability. But, can I really be honest and true to myself without showing the vulnerable broken sides of me? 

1986-2016
Like so many... I wasn't given the fairest start to life. From my first breath there were obstacle after obstacle. Every day and every night was a fight for survival. I would move 10 obstacles out of my way and then there would be a mountain waiting. At the time...I just thought it was normal. This is just the way life is. I didn't know that it could be different till it was. Even then...when you come back from hell to live among the rest, you never quite feel right. You never feel like you fit in or belong. Part of you always feels just a bit off, like a circle trying to fit into an oval. Damaged. This is where community comes in...running and community. The more people you talk to and the more that you connect with you realize that almost everyone is getting back from hell at one point or another. Everyone is walking around damaged and putting themselves back together...and feeling alone.

Running isn't everything....but it's the thing that can make something beautiful and fierce out of the broken. It isn't the act of running specifically that is the cause of the healing...it's the transformation that happens when you push past what you never thought you could do. When you take control of the uncontrollable and decided that you are more than your circumstances...that you ultimately decide the ending to your story. The run is just a conduit....a compass to help guide you through the mess of what life can be. To help heal you during the devastating times, to keep you engaged in the uneventful times, and to help you celebrate the beautiful times. It keeps disassociation from taking over and keeps you present. Life is too short and goes too fast to check out. Running can bring out the smiles when you thought you couldn't find it and can bring on the tears when you tried to shove them down deep. 2016 was the year I really discovered how amazing trail running could be and the healing it can bring to 30 years of devastating loss. It is the year I decided to let go of past hurt and embrace the present. Because right now is all we have... Thank you 2016 for the suffering, for the tools to cope and the heart to move on. 2017... I am so excited to see what you will bring and what I will do with it. 

The Resolution

Jack's Mannequin

There's a lot that I don't know

There's a lot that I'm still learning

But I think I'm letting go

To find my body is still burning

And you hold me down

And you got me living in the past

Come on and pick me up

Somebody clear the wreckage from the blast

And I'm alive

And I don't need a witness

To know that I survived

I'm not looking for forgiveness

I just need light

                                                               I need light in the dark as I search for the resolution

                                                               And the bars are finally closed

So I try living in the moment

'Til the moment it just froze

And I felt sick and so alone

I can hear the sound

Of your voice still ringing in my ear

I'm going underground

But you'll find me anywhere I feel

And I'm alive

And I don't need a witness

To know that I survived

I'm not looking for forgiveness

I just need light