Run Kenley Run Playlist #2: Compass

I am not the biggest fan of country music.  The Dixie Chicks and Lady Antebellum are pretty much the only two country bands I listen to - and a little bit of old school Garth Brooks once in a while because, hey, who doesn't have friends in low places?  

I found "Compass" while searching for songs to add to my running playlist and it made me cry.   Honestly, a lot of songs do because this is a pretty emotional journey I am purposefully taking, but this one, despite its peppy beat, simply wrecks me everytime.  As my runs increase, and I am out there for a few hours focusing on both my body and why I am making my body do this, it's physically impossible not to cry, especially when this song comes on.   

The road of grief is winding and often very, very dark, and it's easy to get hopelessly lost.   This song talks about your heart being your compass, and following it wherever it may go.  I feel like that is how I have approached this journey from day one - doing whatever my heart needed me to do.  Sometimes, my heart needed me to write.  Sometimes, it needed me to speak out.  Sometimes, it needed me to volunteer.   Now, it needs me to run.   So, I have done all of these things as demanded by my heart, and I truly feel that letting it guide me has been a key part in my healing.   All of these things have helped light the way and have helped me understand the road - and myself - a little better.

No one knows what they are doing when it comes to this journey - whether in grief or just in life -  so we all just find our way the best we can.   

                                       

"Compass" by, Lady Antebellum

Alright

Yeah it's been a bumpy road
Roller coasters
High and low
Fill the tank and drive the car
Pedal fast, pedal hard
You won't have to go that far

You wanna give up 'cause it's dark
We're really not that far apart
So let your heart, sweet heart
Be your compass when you're lost
And you should follow it wherever it may go
When it's all said and done
You can walk instead of run
'Cause no matter what you'll never be alone (never be alone) oh oh oh
Never be alone oh oh oh

Forgot directions on your way
Don't close your eyes don't be afraid
We might be crazy late at night I can't wait til you arrive
Follow stars you'll be alright

You wanna give up 'cause it's dark
We're really not that far apart
So let your heart, sweet heart
Be your compass when you're lost
And you should follow it wherever it may go
When it's all said and done
You can walk instead of run
'Cause no matter what you'll never be alone (never be alone) oh oh oh
Never be alone oh oh oh
You wanna give up 'cause it's dark
We're really not that far apart
So let your heart, sweet heart
Be your compass when you're lost
And you should follow it wherever it may go
When it's all said and done
You can walk instead of run
'Cause no matter what you'll never be alone (never be alone) oh oh oh
Never be alone oh oh oh

When it's all said and done
You can walk instead of run
'Cause no matter what you'll never be alone

Run Kenley Run Playlist #1: Inner Ninja

When I went on vacation the summer after Kenley died, I made a playlist for some of those days full of songs that spoke to my grief or my healing. I did the same thing in the days leading up to Piper's birth. So, it seems fitting that I create a blog series of songs that are getting me through to February 26th, 2017.
As my running distance increases each week, I have to find more songs to fill the time. This song has been in my iTunes for a while now, but I have only recently added it to my runs. Obviously, the title was what grabbed me first - and the beat is catchy and uptempo - but it's the words in the second verse and the chorus that really make this song meaningful.


Hey yo, I've been high and I've been real low
I've been beaten and broken but I healed though
So many ups and downs, roughed up and clowned
We all got problems, but we deal though
I'm tryin' to do better now, find my inner peace
Learn my art form, and find my inner Chi
When my backs on the wall, I don't freeze up
Nah, I find my inner strength and I re-up
Here we go, I know I've never been the smartest or wisest
But I realize what it takes
Never dwell in the dark cause the sun always rises
But gotta make it to the next day
It's a feeling that you get in your lungs when you run
Like you're runnin' outta air and your breath won't come
And you (uh) wheezin', gotta keep it movin'
Find that extra (uhn) and push your way through it

I've had bad habits but I dropped em, (I dropped em)
I've had opponents but I knocked them out
I climbed the highest mountains
I swam the coldest seas
There ain't a thing I've faced that's been too much for me

Grief is hard work.  Yeah, it looks like a few years makes it easier, but that's not true.   I have worked harder than anything in my life to get through the coldest sea imaginable.  I continue to work every day to keep myself afloat.   I am proud of that.   It isn't just because time has passed.  Time does nothing to heal.  WE heal OURSELVES.   We do whatever we can to climb that mountain of grief every day.   We learn the mountain.  We learn its crevices and cracks.  We learn the shortcuts - oh wait - there aren't any.   We push through the day with everything we have and some days are definitely more victorious than others.   But, we find that part of ourselves that WANTS to make it through and we hold on to it hard and tight.  That part of me that wants to be happy - that wants to face her day with joy - that wants to triumph over the cold, dark days of February (and many others) - she's my Inner Ninja.   

Chorus:

Nobody's gonna see me comin'
Nobody's gonna hear a sound
No matter how hard they're tryin'
Nobody's gonna bring me down

Nobody's gonna see me comin'
Nobody's gonna hear a sound
No matter how hard they're tryin'
No stoppin' me since I've found
My inner ninja 

Reasons to Run

I've started my training for the Princess Half Marathon. Slow and steady, I've been following the Galloway method and running and walking in one minute intervals. So far, I feel like I am being successful. I've only worked up to 3.5 miles, but I can keep a fairly good pace - a full two minutes ahead of the required max. You all know that I am running it in honor of Kenley for her 4th birthday. That is true. However, there are deeper reasons to why I am running this race. It's more than just remembering my daughter on her birthday. It's about forgiveness, reconciliation, and survival. I'm running this for her - but I am also doing it for me. Because I have to. Besides honoring Kenley, there are two main reasons why I am running this race.

Reason 1: Surviving February


It's no secret this past February was really hard for me. If I'm going to be honest, it was absolute hell. Every day was a flashback to horror. Every day felt impossibly heavy and painful. I really wasn't sure I was going to make it through without losing my mind. My fellow loss moms helped immensely. Other people in my life did their best to be supportive, and I am extremely grateful for all of the notes and messages and gifts. But, all of that really just kept my head above water. I was still drowning.


I can't do that again. I can't continue to do that every February for the rest of my life. I am not strong enough. Her birthday was simply a countdown of pain, and that's not fair to her. She doesn't deserve for her birthday to be filled with pain. She deserves to be celebrated. She deserves to be remembered with joy. And, as of this last February, I am completely incapable of doing that.


When I was at the Princess Half waiting for my sister to cross the finish line, I noticed there was a buzz in the air. Excitement. Anticipation. Triumph. Joy. People crossed the finish line and threw their hands up in the air. They smiled and laughed and hugged each other. As I watched them finish, I could tell which runners had just accomplished something meaningful to them. Sweaty and exhausted, they still had the energy to dance with joy. They had done something amazing and were celebrating it - and everyone knew it and celebrated with them. As I recall these moments and write them here, I am crying. I am literally crying right this minute because I desperately need a reason to celebrate in February. I need to feel that joy like I need to breathe. Grief is suffocating. It pushes all the air out of your lungs and squashes you flat. It makes you feel like you will never be able to breathe again. And I need to breathe. Most of the time, I can keep grief off my chest. I have my bad days here and there, but I have gotten to the point where I can shoulder this weight. Not in February. In February, I feel like I am dying. And, really, parts of me are. February is so horrible, I am willingly running 13.1 miles at one time to make it more bearable. I need to reclaim February for something beautiful and triumphant. So, I run. I run to have a reason to breathe again. I run to celebrate an accomplishment I NEVER would have accomplished otherwise. I run because I can't continue to face February without something amazing in my pocket.

Crossing that finish line will be something worth celebrating. Months of training down to that moment of triumph. I will cross it with a victorious heart - a heart full of love and joy, as it should be.


Reason 2: Reclaiming My Body


For most of my life, I seriously struggled with body image. I remember thinking I was fat as early as 7 years old. I remember thinking I was disgusting and fat around 12. I remember feeling unworthy of human affection due to my disgustingness around 16. I never developed an eating disorder. Honestly, it was simply because I didn't have the willpower to not eat and I hated throwing up. There were actually times when I was angry at myself for not being able to go a whole day without eating - and days when I tried to think about what would be the most comfortable way to trigger my gag reflex. It was a serious issue. An issue I never really talked about with anyone. I struggled with horrible body image well into my twenties. Around 24, I just got tired of hating myself. I came to a crossroads where I could either stop living - or find a way to bear being alive. I chose to live. I journaled. A lot. I filled pages and pages of journals with automatic self-conditioned words of hatred and slowly and consioulsly, turned them into words of self acceptance. It took me years. YEARS. It wasn't until I was around 30 when I finally got to the point where I liked what I saw in the mirror. From 7 - 30. For 23 years, I hated my body with a firey passion. Then, I had a happy 4 1/2 year span where I actually felt comfortable in my own skin. I was beginning to appreciate my body. I remember thinking "So, THIS is what it's like to not want to claw at your own thighs. Nice!"


And then, my body betrayed me in the most awful way it could. It killed my baby. And just like that - I was back to square one. I plummeted headfirst into a deep, dark abyss of body hatred. I couldn't look at myself anymore. Everything about me was wrong and hollow. I ate to fill the holes that were left behind, but obviously, those holes can never be filled - and definitely not with food. I gained weight. I got pregnant again and gained more weight. Even giving birth to a healthy baby girl couldn't restore my trust. My body was not my own. It was a foreign object. A meat suit I wore - a meat suit I hated. I didn't buy myself new clothes. I didn't wear make-up. I didn't care about looking good or feeling good. I lied and blamed being a new mom. I could feel myself barreling towards that crossroads again - and I wasn't sure if I would make the same choice this time. So, I decided I had to take action. I had to take my body back. I had to reclaim it for myself. First, I had to forgive it. I have been doing A LOT of work on that. I will always feel guilty for her death. I know I can't do much to help that. But, I can no longer blame myself. I need my body to be mine again - not this dull glob I hate so much. Reconciling with my body is one of the reasons I run. I run to feel the power in my legs and the air in my lungs. I run to push this cluster of cells farther than it's ever been, to know that it can accomplish great things. Every time my foot hits the pavement in my training, I feel a little freer from the shackles of self hatred. I run because crossing that finish line will be my victory over it. I will be me again. I NEED to be me again. So, I run.



We all do what we have to do to heal. Right now, what I have to do is to run 13.1 miles on February 26, 2017. I am determined to make this happen. For Kenley. For myself.


It is time to take it back. Her birthday. Feburary.  My body.  My joy.
I will do this.


Run, Kenley, Run.