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It seems that year after year, time finds a way to slip away from us faster and faster. Sometimes I find myself resorting to the year 2000 as my reference point to then quickly realizing that was almost 20 years ago! With 2017 coming to an end and me approaching the year where I turn 30 (simply writing that down gives me very intense heart palpitations), I think it’s important to reflect on the past 12 months and look forward to a new year with a renowned sense of hope and excitement.

Initially, my first thoughts and feelings of 2017 were of disappointment and heartache. It was a year that tested me in every way imaginable, but it was also a year that was full of love, celebration, and new-found resilience. There were countless friend’s weddings and engagements to celebrate, new friendships formed and cherished family memories made. I think that this past year has allowed me to discover what I am truly made of, but more importantly, it has shown me that my family is undoubtedly my greatest strength. The unconditional love, support and friendship that they give me day in, day out is immeasurable. I am one of the luckiest souls on this Earth.

Before I embarked upon my journey to Israel this summer, I got to spend the night with my older brother in New York City. He has always been someone I have looked up to, but this past year we have become more than just siblings; we have become best friends. As we were eating dinner on his couch and watching Friends (the one where Ross and Rachel were ON A BREAK), I told him I didn’t even want to go to Israel anymore. Why should I travel across the world to compete in the Maccabiah Games when I was so injured I couldn’t even walk? My brother was such a rock for me during that time, constantly reassuring me and reaffirming the fact that this trip was not solely about a half marathon competition. He helped me come to the realization that the trip to Israel was going to be one of the most remarkable trips I would ever take, regardless of the outcome of the race. I took so much comfort in his text messages (I would literally take snapshots of them and re-read them when I was feeling anxious) and his words always found a way to bring me peace and reassurance. I was going to one of the most historical and significant places on Earth; a place that my grandfather dreamed of traveling to with his family one day. I was being given this enormous opportunity and I could not let it go to waste. My family and boyfriend were able to join me for the latter portion of the trip and those last few days traveling through Israel with them will be memories that I will treasure for the rest of my life. My brother was right (like he annoyingly tends to be); the trip to Israel exceeded all of my expectations.

I believe that in the future when I look back at the year 2017, I will feel proud. In life, it is normal to get knocked down, but it is the getting back up part and the attitude that comes along with it that determines ones spirit. I am and will forever be grateful for my family who have given me the courage and the love to keep fighting no matter the circumstances. Cheers to the year 2018…I can’t wait to see what the future holds.

Dreams are not meant to come easy; there is a reason why most people only reach them when their eyes are closed. But then there are those few people who have a burning desire that is ever-present within their souls to keep going, no matter the circumstances. To achieve a dream takes more than hard work and dedication; it takes a certain amount of tenacity and stubborness. To achieve a dream requires a person who is incapable of accepting failure as an option.

For the past 6 months, I have been trying to balance out the conflicting emotions that come with wanting to train like a madwoman and realizing that I need to let my body heal from the biggest injury I have ever had. While I am still not 100% healthy, my coach has been putting the puzzle pieces together to create a training plan that works for what my body is currently capable of handling. The elliptiGO has remained my constant companion since my mileage is still very low; in fact it is the lowest it has been since high school. There are many times when I look at my current mileage of 30-40 miles a week and wonder if I will ever get back to the 80 mile weeks I was doing pre-injury. However, with the combination of the elliptiGO, strength-training, drills, and the running that I am able to do, I finally feel like I am gaining back my fitness. This past Thursday was my first real test; I was finally able to lace up my racing flats and toe the starting line.

The fact that my first race back fell on Thanksgiving helped to ease the nerves that inevitably come with racing. I wasn’t tapering so it eliminated the pressure of hitting a specific goal time. I got to warm-up with my family and was surrounded by runners who I grew up running with. The Tallahassee Turkey Trot is one of my favorite races of the year and it was refreshing to be back on my home turf amidst my favorite running community in the world. I was so thankful to be able to do what I love with the ones I loved most around me.

The gun went off and everything else faded away. I don’t remember much of the 10K race. What I do remember is the feeling of the light rain hitting my skin, the aching legs as I pushed up the last hill, and the burning of my lungs in that last homestretch. I crossed the line and the first thought that came to my mind was ‘grateful.’ I was grateful for so many things – being done being one of them :). I was running. I was racing. I had won. I was with my loved ones. This simple, local Turkey Trot helped me realize I have so much more to give. The fire inside me is burning bright and I can’t wait to lace up my shoes again. This whole experience has been a constant reminder that anything worth fighting for will not be easy. It will take a lot of time and patience, incessant hard work and perseverance, and a relentless determination to simply keep going. But keep going I will. We must keep fighting, keep chasing, and keep striving forward in the direction of our dreams.

These past few weeks I couldn’t make myself sit down and write a blog post. I felt lost, hopeless, and feeling like hiding out for an extended period of time in an attempt to not have to answer questions about how I was doing. Today, however, is a new day. I am not miraculously healthy, but I am doing everything in my power to get there. After an MRI and seeing multiple doctors, I think we have finally hit the nail on the head with what my issue is. The short and sweet answer is that my biomechanics are causing excessive load and sheering forces on my low back and sacrum, causing my sacroiliac joints to get inflamed. So how do I fix this? Simple, all I have to do is fix my running form. HA! Is that a joke?! How in the world am I supposed to change something I have been ingraining in my mind and body for millions and millions of miles?!

Initially, the thought of attempting to change my form (which I have apparently been doing incorrectly for the past 20 years) was incredibly daunting. But after the initial shock wore off, (and countless google searches on correcting running biomechanics had been done) I realized that while fixing running form is far from an easy task, it is not impossible. It will take a lot of time and a lot of patience. It will take lots of drills, strength training, conscious effort on every single run, and hard work. It will be an uphill battle; but I am up for the challenge.

I wanted to write this post to reflect and remind myself just how wonderful the human body is. I spend so much time being mad and frustrated at my body for being injured or not being able to keep up with what I want it to do, that I forget about how much I should be grateful for. I go out day after day, sometimes on pavement, hit it with the force of 2-3 times my body weight for up to 26 miles at a time, and every time I expect it to perform up to my unrealistic expectations. Most of humanity struggles to go out and run one mile, yet we, as runners, go out mile after mile pushing our bodies to the brink of its limit. It only makes sense that the body is going to break down sometimes (WE ARE HUMAN)! It is important to stop feeling so angry if it doesn’t choose “the right time”…I don’t think the right time ever really exists, right?

If you ran great every day, you would never truly appreciate it. It is the lows, the challenges we go through, that make the ups the most cherished moments in our lives. The feeling I get when I cross the finish line knowing that I overcame the challenges, did what I needed to do, and reached my goal, is the best feeling I experience on this Earth. That feeling is why I run. If you are injured, frustrated, lost, whatever it may be, just trust that it is the setbacks that make us stronger. You will come back and it will be worth it. Make sure you listen to your body and appreciate it for all that it is. Most importantly, believe in its miraculous ability and trust that it will pave the path to take it you to your dreams.

“Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow’.”

“Nothing in my life has ever broken my heart the way running has, and yet I cannot breathe without it.” -The wise words of Kara Goucher

Last week I started feeling the same pain in my sacrum that I felt in May. I was convinced it was a phantom pain or something my mind was creating because I was paranoid of getting hurt again. It couldn’t be anything serious. I was being so cautious in all aspects of my recovery- rebuilding my mileage 10-20% each week, strength training with my physical therapist 2-3x a week, focusing on my nutrition and making sure to get enough calcium and vitamin D. I was only up to 23 miles a week! My weekly mileage was the equivalent of what my long run was supposed to be. How could I have another injury?!

A few weeks back I wrote about the journey of coming back from an injury. I equated this journey to something like a dance, where you push the boundaries, test the limits, and  learn when to pull back. I spoke of the fact that there is not a linear path to recovery; instead it is more of a messy, curvy, frustrating path that leaves you feeling like giving up. It is with a heavy heart that I say I am back on this messy path; I am back in the part of the dance where I just can’t figure out the right moves.

Yesterday I saw my physical therapist and he believes I have a bone reaction. On the spectrum of healthy bone to stress fracture, it’s on the low end (which is positive), but I can’t help but feel frustrated and discouraged. I feel like my body is telling me that maybe I’m not meant to be a runner. Maybe my dreams that I envision and desire with every cell in my being aren’t in the cards for me. I am devoting my life to this dream and feel like at every turn I am being knocked flat on my face.

I’m trying so hard to think of the silver lining. I know rehab, recovery, and rebuilding is a process and I’m trying to keep my head up. When I texted my coach yesterday to give him the update, his words were a sense of comfort and motivation. “This is not where your story ends.” I am hanging on to these words with dear life and doing everything in my power to stay positive.

This journey is not easy. Running is so closely tied to who I am that when I can’t do it, I truly feel like a part of me is dead. All I want is to feel alive again. I have to be brave because as the saying goes, “the moment you are ready to quit is usually the moment right before a miracle happens.” Even though it seems like everything is telling me to quit, I just can’t give up. It’s not in my DNA. If I were in a race, and got passed with less than a mile to go, what would I do? Would I throw in the towel and say it’s not my day? Hell no. I would fight as hard as I possibly could to win that race. And that is what I will do now. Life may keep throwing me curve balls, I don’t care. I will not stop fighting for my dreams.

“Today, we die a little.”

These famous words were spoken by legendary runner, Emil Zatopek on the starting line of the Olympic marathon in Melbourne in 1956. The temperature was somewhere around 90 degrees Fahrenheit and he was well aware that the next 2 hours and something minutes would be filled with nothing short of extreme physical agony.

I recently finished reading Zatopek’s inspiring biography written by Richard Askwith, where I learned of some of the most inspiring stories of one of the greatest runners of all time. Emil Zatopek did not just revolutionize the sport of distance running, he reinvented it. He rewrote the record books and redrew the boundaries of endurance, redefining the idea of what was humanly possible. At the 1952 Helsinki Olympics he won the triple crown, winning gold medals in the 5k, 10k, and the marathon, a feat that to this day has never been achieved again. In his athletic career, he won five Olympic medals, set 18 world records, and went undefeated in the 10k for six years. While all of these athletic accomplishments are remarkable, they are not the main reason why he has become my new favorite runner. It was his infectiously cheerful and generous personality that ultimately won me over. I believe it is not what he did that made him a true hero, it is how he did it.

Zatopek grew up as a poor carpenter’s son in Moravia, who built himself up through sheer hard work and determination to be one of the most incredible athletes the world has ever seen. Emil’s training principles were revolutionary in the sense that it took over a decade before sports scientists were able to define the physiological principles underlying his approach to interval training. The most important part of Emil’s formula was the effort he put in. Anyone can do interval sessions; the difficult thing is doing them as Emil did them. He is known to have done 80-100 fast 400 meter laps a day! He would run in heavy boots through thick snow, he would hold his breath until he passed out, and he would run in a bath full of laundry for two hours. Zatopek trained himself to be tough in mind as well as body. He said,

“When a person trains once, nothing happens. When a person forces himself to do a thing a hundred or a thousand times, he develops in ways more than physical. Willpower is no longer a problem.”

He would run each lap to the genuine limit of his endurance, without surrendering to the instinct (that we always want to cling to) to keep a little left in reserve. He believed that training was a science, but he brought to it an intense subjectivity- focusing not on the stopwatch, but on what it felt like at the limits of endurance, and learning how to manipulate those limits. Simply said, “When you can’t keep going, go faster.”

It is impossible to capture all of Zatopek’s greatness in such a short blog post. I haven’t even begin to touch upon the subject of Emil as a political figure who took a stand against the Soviet tanks that invaded his native Czechoslovakia in 1968. His bravery led to him spending his later years in isolation as an itinerant laborer, far from his home and his beloved wife. While the aftermath of his courageous stand in 1968 led to some of his loneliest years, Zatopek was not a man who could easily be broken.

The thing that excited people most about Zatopek was his humanity. People spoke of his warmth, his sportsmanship, and his spontaneous generosity. He shared his training secrets with anyone who asked- and in mid-race would offer words of encouragement to rivals, or take the lead when it was not in his best interest to do so, simply out of sportsmanship. His most famous act of generosity was in 1966 when he gave one of his gold medals to Australian distance runner, Ron Clarke- the greatest distance runner to never win a gold of his own.

Zatopek will always be remembered as a true hero. His fellow Olympians worshipped him, ordinary people were inspired by him, and the world became a better place because of him. In 1952 as Zatopek approached the Olympic arena in Helsinki, nearly 70,000 people roared in unison: ‘Za-to-pek! Za-to-pek! Za-to-pek!’ He was about to make history by winning his third gold medal of the games, in addition to winning the first marathon he had ever run. This became a true Olympic moment; a moment where people from so many different nations came together to cheer on one man in a joyous celebration of sporting achievement.

The great Australian, Ron Clarke, said it best,

“There is not, and never was, a greater man than Emil Zatopek.”

Yesterday I ran 5 miles (the farthest I have been allowed to run since that fateful day in May when I got diagnosed with a sacral stress fracture). And this week, I am allowed to bring my mileage up to 20. This is huge! I should be overjoyed! But instead, I have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I will never get back to where I once was. This being my first real injury, I’m a newbie at handling the ‘return to running’ aspect, and selfishly, instead of feeling grateful, I am struggling to stop obsessing about how much fitness I feel that I have lost. Throughout these last (LONG) four months of not running, I have had a constant fear in the back of my mind that all my hard-earned fitness I worked so hard for is slowly melting away. Every morning as I scroll through social media and see so many people running farther and faster, it is hard not to feel depressed. It’s not that I want other people to fail, but it’s as if I have forgotten what those feelings of euphoria feel like and I am overwhelmed by wanting to feel it again.

While I was in the thick of my injury, I would motivate myself during my cross-training workouts by envisioning my return to running. I knew it would be a struggle, but I thought about how I would appreciate every single step and how happy I would be to be back in my element. As much as I want to say that this is the case, it is simply not true. In reality, running has not been as wonderful and picture-perfect as I had hoped. It’s not the effortless, floating on air feeling we experience when we’re fit. Instead, it is more of an awkward trudging type motion that leaves you feeling exhausted after each run (no matter how short and slow) and in constant paranoia of the pain of your injury coming back. My legs hurt. My lungs hurt. My core hurts. Everything feels like it is working 10 times harder than usual. As I gasp for air, I fight back thoughts of how much harder everything is compared to what I’m used to. It all just feels wrong. I know I should feel grateful; and I am. I know that I would rather be where I am now, running and feeling like shit, but running nonetheless. However, it doesn’t change the fact that running feels off.

There is a lot of talk about the sadness one feels during an injury, but what is many times left unspoken is how hard it is to handle the process of coming back to running and dealing with the self-doubt that comes with each and every step. It is hard to come to terms with the realization that it will take a lot of time before you come close to being as fit as you used to be and it is even scarier to think of how you will surpass that fitness to reach even greater heights. I have found that along with the struggles that come with dealing with an injury, returning to running is also one of the biggest mental challenges that I will face. I know I have a lot of humbling moments ahead, but I also know that every day I do the right thing with my training, I am one step closer to being back where I want to be. I will do my  best once the workouts start, I will take it super easy on recovery days, and I will listen to what my body needs. I will be patient with myself and my training and I will have faith that my fitness WILL come back. I have to believe that l will make it back with a level of grit and determination that I did not have before because I will know just how far I have come.  Here is my vow to stop the comparisons and trust in the process. I am running and I am grateful to be finding my way back home.

“Don’t try to rush progress. Remember- a step forward, no matter how small, is a step in the right direction. Keep believing.”

This post is not about running. It is about something far greater than that. Exactly one week ago, I lost my grandfather. In the words of my cousin, “They don’t make men like my grandfather anymore…strong, handsome, hard-working, and stoic- in the best sense of the word.”

He was a self-made man that didn’t make excuses; he simply worked hard, learned his way, and found success. He had a wife who he loved with his whole heart for 65 years. He had 4 daughters, 1 son, 16 nieces and nephews, and countless other individuals who he inspired just by being himself. In his 90 years, he always found a way to do the things he loved, while also being the patriarch of the family. He was a father, a grandfather, a great-grandfather, a brother, a wrestler (to this day, I have never met a better arm-wrestler than my grandpa), a tortilla-maker, a salsa-maker, a gardener, a dancer, a story-teller, and a loving husband. He could do anything. But above and beyond being a great man, he was my grandfather. I will never forget his sweet smile and his gentle disposition. Anyone who came into contact with him was better off just by knowing him. I feel humbled to have his blood in me.

I spent this past week surrounded by a loving family and it made me so grateful for the support network I have around me. But no matter how much love is around, loss is a concept that is hard to wrap our minds around. It leaves us feeling empty- like a piece of us is gone and will never be found. Death may be one of the hardest things we face in life; and all we can do to cope is love harder and hope that with time, our pain lessens. Remember the memories and let the times you shared together bring you comfort. Above all, cherish every moment, find the silver linings, and do what makes you happy. Life is short and we only get one shot. Do what you love and surround yourself with people who believe in you. Find a way to make your life meaningful and appreciate every second that you have on this Earth.

Zeide, thank you for the wonderful memories and the endless love you gave to me. I hope that I can make my life as meaningful and inspiring as you did yours. I love you and I feel honored to be your grand-daughter.

“Mostly it is loss, that teaches us about the worth of things.”

These past few months, I am being raw and honest when I say I have experienced more self-doubt than I think I ever have; not only in running, but also in life. People say your 20’s are the best decade; well let me just say, I highly disagree. I think that in my 20’s I have experienced more highs and lows than any other time of my life. I have constantly questioned myself and the decisions I have made. Self-doubt is a horrible thing. It makes you question every cell in your being. It crushes your hopes and your dreams, and even worse, it limits your potential.

When I was younger I always had a plan, and in a sense, it made life easy. Everything was simple. Make good grades in high school so you can go to a good college. Get into a good college, continue to excel, and then go on to a get a graduate degree to get ahead of the curve. And then what… Get a job? Get another graduate degree? What if you’re not sure? What if what you always told yourself you were going to do and who you always told yourself you were going to be isn’t what you want. Then what? Well, I think this is the first time when we really come face to face with life.

Life is never what you expect and definitely never what you plan for. If you would have told me ten years ago that I would be living in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, without a set career path, I would have had a mix of an anxiety attack and a nervous breakdown. I tend to get so caught up in what I think I should be doing and what my version of success looks like that I lose sight of the fact that the essence and greatness of life is that it is unpredictable. For us Type A personalities, unpredictability is a struggle. It brings us comfort to think that once we make a plan and stick to it, we have control. But we have to let go of that urge to always in be in the driver’s seat. Let it bring you comfort that life’s circumstances are beyond your control. Even when something goes awry and we feel like the world is ending, the sun always seems to come out the next morning. The fact that life is spontaneous and unpredictable is what makes life so amazing. We should embrace this. We can do anything. We can throw our plans to the wayside and chase down a dream. There are no limits to what we can do.

All of these thoughts stem from a deep self-doubt inside of me that I am currently fighting. I have no idea if my dream of qualifying for the Olympic Marathon Trials will ever be realized. Even when I’m healthy and back to my normal training routine, I will never be as talented as most of the professional runners I see racing and flying around the track. I am over 10 minutes away from the qualifying standard. That is a whole hell of a lot! And right now, as I struggle to heal from this injury, I can’t even put the work in to attempt get to the next level. All I can do is heal and be smart with my recovery in the hope that I can get back to the grind soon. But more importantly than that, I can learn to believe in myself. I don’t have the talent of Shalane Flanagan or Emma Coburn or Jenny Simpson, but I do have a fire inside me. I have a desire and fight to push my body to its very limits. There will be the doubters, including yourself at times, but you can’t give up on yourself nor should you ever lose sight of your dreams. There will be days when you wonder if it will ever be worthwhile. Fight through those days and it will give you a fire, a grit, an extra level that you can dig down into on the day when it matters. Never limit yourself. If you truly want a goal, with every piece of your heart, and believe you deserve it, then you can do it; you will do it. Like my dad said to me this week, “Nobody knows the size of your heart, so go catch that dream.”

 

 

There once was a world where running did not involve a stopwatch. Running was playing. You chased your friends through the woods for hours. You asked the referee how much time was left in the soccer game, not because you were tired and wanted to stop, but because you wanted to play forever. Every now and then I see kids playing and laughing with what seems like an endless source of energy and I feel nostalgia for those glory days.

Although I started running competitively at a relatively early age, soccer will forever be my first love. I was that girl who slept with her soccer ball at night and dreamed of being the next Mia Hamm. I lived, breathed, slept soccer. I spent my weekends traveling throughout Florida, Georgia, and Alabama alongside my best friends to play 5- 6 hours of soccer a day. My thirst for playing could never be quenched. I lived in a world where all that mattered was who got to the ball first…and lucky for me, my little legs usually came out on top.

It is through soccer that I discovered my talent and passion for running. While I am eternally grateful for the sport of running and the experiences it has brought me, I wish I could have told my younger self to keep playing soccer. I took running so seriously at such a young age that it led to me quitting track my senior year. I was running times in middle school that won me top medals at Varsity State Championships. I was constantly being told how fast I was and how impressive my times were. On the surface, it all sounds great, but ultimately, it led to me feeling like I was never enough. How was I going to be able to reach the great expectations everyone had of me? I had this constant weight on my shoulders that I could never seem to lift. If I won, it was expected. If I lost, it was the end of the world. Every race was filled with anxiety and dread, and by the end of my senior year, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had hit a plateau and was not the ‘it’ runner anymore. I was getting beat by ‘me’ 6 years ago (the pre-pubescent middle school girl who glides along effortlessly and has absolutely no idea how this sport is about to turn her world upside down).

Running is an unforgiving sport. It exposes your weaknesses and challenges you in ways you could never imagine. But at the end of the day, IT IS JUST RUNNING. It is simply putting one foot in front of the other. We cannot always get caught up in analyzing the splits and worrying about hitting the times- leave the Garmin at home occasionally! Running should be the medicine, not the illness. It should heal our anxiety, not create it.

After a few years in college where I ended up stepping away from the stopwatch and away from the start lines, I found my love for running again. It took me almost three years of running without a watch, but fortunately I was able to remember the reason why I ran and I found joy in racing again.

Although I now have ambitious and lofty running goals, it is important to remember the days when I was a kid. I was passionate about racing through the woods with my friends and sprinting up and down the soccer field. I would never get tired. I wasn’t worried about winning or what my time was; I was just embracing the beauty of the sport. We must not forget the simplicity of what running really is. Running is pure and beautiful and it is simply a mechanism to set us free.

“Her heart was wild, but I didn’t want to catch it, I wanted to run with it, to set mine free.”

I feel it again. The same sharp, burning pain. The cramping sensation. Please, God, don’t let this be happening.

Last week I was given the green light to try running again. Keep it EASY and no longer than 25- 30 minutes was the rule. I was ecstatic. The pace didn’t matter. The distance didn’t matter. I was running again. But then, my ego caught up to me.

I was on a run this Wednesday with my brother who has recently caught the ‘running bug’ and is improving at an exponential rate. I was so happy to be running with him and he seemed to be so relaxed running his 7 minute mile tempo pace that I decided he was going to have the best tempo of his life. WARNING SIREN ADRIANA: DON’T BE AN IDIOT! Unfortunately, I didn’t hear the alarm.

We cruised along at sub 7 minute pace for the middle portion and then we ran our last mile in low 6:20s. Was this easy pace? No! Was this me being an idiot? 100% yes! In my mind, I was so comforted by the fact that I could still rip a 6:20 if I so desired, but my legs, they weren’t so thrilled with the idea. We started our cool down and in less than 3 steps I felt the sharp, burning pain that I have become oh so familiar with. NOOOO THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING!

The next 24 hours I was in complete despair. I was icing, I was lightly stretching, I was texting my physical therapist every hour asking him if he thought I had re-injured myself. It is now four days later and I am still unsure of the answer. I feel better, but I still feel it. I am holding off on trying to run until I see my physical therapist and he can give me his expert opinion.

Throughout this whole process of rehab and recovery, I have been trying to stay positive and see every experience as a lesson. Here is lesson number 873,930,272.

Rehab, recovery, and rebuilding is a fine dance of pushing the boundaries, testing the limits, and then learning when to pull back. It is going to be a maddeningly frustrating process of two steps forward, one step back. There is no straight line to recovery. Instead, it is a messy, twisted, muddled path that we are all trying to figure out. There will be unplanned rest days and short breaks that you didn’t expect. There will be days where you think you’re back, and then there will be days where you think you’re going to be that “injured girl” forever and that all your fitness you worked so hard to build is wasted away. There will come a day when you take a risk and push yourself a little over the edge. Don’t freak out, it is all part of the journey. Just make sure to listen to your body and and know when to reign it back in. It is how we respond to what our bodies are telling us that determines the next step in our dance. Be patient. Remove egos from the equation. Choose to embrace the process, celebrate the small victories, and appreciate the rest days.

For now, I am doing my best to stay positive, stay smiling, and stay sane! 🙂

Here’s to health, happiness, and the constant pursuit of learning the steps to our new little dance.

“We can’t always choose the music life plays for us, but we can choose how we dance to it.”