Broke Ass Human

Once, when I was in my early twenties, I laid on my belly in the back of a Toyota Tacoma pick up truck for three hours. Every few minutes, I would inch forward just a smidge, slowly, methodically. Crouched under the toolbox was a dog that had been so badly abused that his insides no longer functioned properly. He was shaking, scared, and trapped. I was his only hope and his biggest enemy. Three hours. My knees and elbows ached and my back was screaming. But it was totally worth it when I first touched his head. He jumped and snarled baring his teeth and pretending he had any fight left in him. I knew better. I knew how he felt. An hour later, he was out of the truck and leaning against my leg. Ultimately, the thing he feared more than anything- human- had been the thing that saved him.

Yesterday, I held a young girl in my lap. She was beaten and abused. Her insides had been ripped out by a monster and her wisdom exceeded her age. When I looked into her eyes, I saw my own reflection and I felt our hearts meld into one. I understood. She knew. In her eyes, I could see the fear, the mistrust and the fight for survival. I held her against my chest and felt her relax against me. She has such a long road ahead, so many hurdles seen and unseen to jump. The demons can destroy her or she can destroy them. Who will win is anyone's guess. Ultimately, the thing she fears the most- trust- will be the only thing that can save her.

I ran today, a real run. A freedom run. A run like I haven't run in quite some time. And I cried today, a real cry. A freedom cry. A cry like I haven't cried in quite some time. Mostly I cried sweat. Who knows if I will ever learn to truly cry tears again? But my heart cried. I felt an ache so deep. I saw that little girl, wide eyed and terrified. I know how hard she will have to fight to see a straight line again and I know that unlike that dog, she may never be able to trust again.

My own wounds seem so deep sometimes that I wonder how much longer it will be before there is no warm, gooey center left. How long before every last drop has just seeped right out? Can they still heal at nearly 30 yrs old? I like to think so. This month is dedicated to that little girl. I will hold her and love her and show her how to trust again. I will destroy the walls before they can be built any higher. I will teach her to fight for herself and how to fight for love because it can exist, just not without trust.

There is some tough stuff ahead, but she is depending on me. I won't let her down.

"We are Broke Ass Humans. Cleansed by His blood and held in His hands, we are safe. We are better for being broken." -Jeff

Hiawasee

There it is. Right in front of you. You can't see the top til you get there. Once you do, you can't see the bottom anymore. It's like hell on Earth while your pedaling. But when it's over, you don't remember how bad it was and you wonder about the next one, the bigger one, the steeper one, the harder one.... and so goes life....

Last weekend, I went to the mountains of North Georgia for what I refer to as a vacation--- full days of biking up the hardest mountains you can find, running the trails, and swimming carefree miles in the cool, open waters. For me, I can't imagine a vacation better than days with conquests so challenging you can't believe them when you see them. And nights so exhausted and yet strangely exhilarated by the fact that you did! Such a dichotomy of emotions....

We spent hours on the bikes during the three days we were there. It was good for me, for my mind and for my heart. I fill my life with people because I love people. I love their stories, I love to watch their reactions and emotions. People fascinate me with their unique struggles and backgrounds and dreams. I love the intimacy of quiet conversations about love and hope and despair. And I love them more when they are shared over the open road in the darkness of the wee hours of the morning. The last year has been so tough for me. I lost my baby, I lost my best friend and in some ways, I think I lost my mind. The pain in my heart is so intense that I feel the only expression is physical. I take the pain in my heart and disperse it into my workouts. When my body is tired, my mind is still.

As we biked up the steepest climb in North Georgia, I thought at moments that my quadriceps might rip from the bone. The air was thin, my lungs were hungry and at one point the darkness was closing in so rapidly I thought I might not even get my foot down in time. My chest was pounding as my heartrate maxed and I don't even know where the strength came from to take even one more pedal stroke. Each corner we turned revealed an even steeper climb with only the promise of another corner ahead. An hour and five minutes uphill. Pure Torture. But, when we reached the top and looked out over the valley, it was so clear, so beautiful, and so obvious. We couldn't see the whole picture until the end, not until we could really appreciate it. That's just how it is.... That mountain view would have been nice to someone who had driven up there but it would never have compared to the view we got to see. We put in the work and thus reaped our own reward- a deeper satisfaction in our work and a greater appreciation of the challenge.

We high-fived and gave our pats on the backs and exclaimed that we had never seen such a beautiful sight. Most importantly, though, we couldn't believe how far we had come. In the moment, in the pain, it was just about squeezing one more push out of tired legs..... left, then right, then left, then right. Now with the whole picture in view, it was the realization that the journey, no matter how hard or how long is always worth the effort.

I climbed back on my bike and started down the mountain.

I never hit the brakes.

40 mph clipped into a bicycle is a freedom and fear like nothing else.

“I believe life is constantly testing us for our level of commitment, and life's greatest rewards are reserved for those who demonstrate a never-ending commitment to act until they achieve. This level of resolve can move mountains, but it must be constant and consistent. As simplistic as this may sound, it is still the common denominator separating those who live their dreams from those who live in regret.” ~ Anthony Robbins

This is the blog of my Journey to the center of SELF. My company, SELF Concepts, has been in development for a year and has finally launched! As I developed the company, I had to look into my heart and decide exactly who I was and what I wanted to bring to other people. Seems easy right? Nope. Life has been an interesting and curvy road for me with lots of lessons that were both hard and humbling. These tough lessons have shaped my life and really brought into perspective exactly what I want my life to be about and who I want to be for others.
This past January I had a miscarriage at 11 weeks-- an experience that ripped through my very core and changed my direction in a matter of moments. Suddenly, everything about my life seemed silly. Just motions, without direction or feeling. The one constant that carried me through was my running. Most mornings, my I wake up by 4:30 am to slog through the streets of Lakeland, FL; Sometimes I go with friends, sometimes just me. The dog is almost always attached to her pink, paw-print leash and I always giggle to myself when I catch myself talking to her. Running is my time. Running is my freedom, my safety, my constant. I run when I am angry or sad. I run when I am happy and I feel promise all around. I run to appointments, to visit friends. Running is one of God's greatest gifts and I embrace it for everything it has to offer.
So, my Journey to the Center of SELF has begun and I am off and, well, running. I intend to change my town. I intend to change people's lives.

http://www.selfconceptslakeland.com/