meditations of a blueberry

The TNT Prairies team bright and early before the race! What a journey . My body is tired, achy, and sore...and I am so incredibly proud of it. Sunday was the BMO Vancouver Half Marathon and I rocked it. I ran 21.1 km through the intense pain of an injured knee. I finished with a time that I never imagined was possible, especially with an injury. I ran for 2 hours and 26 minutes, barely taking any walk breaks since every time I walked, the pain in my knee tripled when I started running again. I fought back tears throughout the entire race, not only from the pain, but because I was in such shock that I was actually running along with 15,000 other people. I may be stubborn, but I've never seen something like this through to the end. So the fact that I actually did is amazing to me. I don't know how many times I felt the emotions start to overtake me, especially near the end. Near the start of the race It felt like it took forever for the race to start after the gun wen...

In November, I embarked on a journey that would change my life. A journey that would train my body and my mind to push me to places I never in my wildest dreams thought were possible. A journey that would result in a smaller body, but a stronger body. A journey that I thought would culminate with the half marathon on May 5. A journey that I am now realizing doesn't end just because I cross that finish line. The half marathon in Vancouver doesn't signal "the end." Instead, it is just another step in the journey. A journey that has had many twists and turns, mountains and valleys, and a lot of much needed emotional and spiritual support. Last night, I attended a sharing circle with Mother Haven and momstown as part of momstown's Fit Mamas program. I wasn't sure what I would get out of it, but I knew it would be amazing. During that hour of sharing, I listened as the other women talked about how they now see their bodies as strong, how they were proud of them...

The streetlight shines in through the window blinds as Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" begins playing on my alarm. What a perfect song to describe this process of marathon training . I let it play for a few seconds longer as I allow myself to slowly wake up. Asha, on the other hand, is up immediately and staring at me beside the bed, waiting to go. The warm baby beside me deep in sleep snuggles in closer and I take one more minute to breathe in his peacefulness. Then, I slowly slip out of bed and quietly sneak out of the room with Asha excitedly following behind me. Checking the weather to see how many layers I need on, I begin to get dressed and eat a banana. I've learned that I need to eat something small before heading out. After layering up, I slip on my shoes, tie them on, grab the dog's leash, and head on out.   It snowed last night, and something about making those first tracks in the snow is magical. It's so cold out that the streetlights in the...

My inspiration. I have boys. But that doesn't mean I don't need to worry about them having a healthy body image. I need to be a good role model for them. I need to show them that a woman does not need to be a size 6 in order to be beautiful. To do that, I can't be obsessed about my weight. I can't let them see me worrying about the extra bulges under my clothes or that I can't fit into those pre-wedding jeans. I can't let them hear me complain about the jiggly belly or stretch marks that pregnancy has left me with. I need to embrace my body so that they can one day embrace their wife's postpartum body. I need to remember that this jiggly belly produced two beautiful boys, and that one of them was over 10 pounds. I need to remember that though my breasts aren't as perky as they once were, they are making enough milk for a 19 pound three month old, and a two year old, with enough "left over" to donate to another baby! Over the 27 months I hav...