The good, the bad, the lonely

I was getting ready to iron my skirt for work tomorrow, and after I got the ironing board set up and I was trying to think of something to do to avoid the actual ironing, it hit me: I am feeling a little lonely.

To be honest, it kind of snuck up on me. In fact, I am quite unfamiliar with this feeling all together. I grew up in a house that was ALWAYS full of people--some of them my actual family, some of them just friends or other guests. I moved from there into an apartment with my two girlfriends, and then of course continued to have roommates all through college. Then I moved back home--same thing in that there was always people around, only this time, we were in a MUCH smaller, albeit beachfront, condo, so you were NEVER alone--then I moved straight from there into an apartment with my boyfriend. So to sum up, I have never lived by myself, or even had a lot of time alone for that matter (little brothers and their friends can be quite bothersome).

So tonight, when I started feeling a little off, it took a second for me to realize that this feeling I am feeling was indeed loneliness. I think it took my brain a while to settle down from the craziness of the past few weeks to actually realize that yes, I am now living alone. If I cook dinner, there is no one to eat it with me. If I see a bug, I have to kill it myself (or try to push it out the door with my shoe so I don't have to actually kill it and pick it up). If I want to tell someone about my day, I have to call my mom or tell my dog. OK, I know, I am getting very dramatic.... don't judge me, it's the loneliness. But the fact of the matter is that this is something I am feeling my way through.

So while analyzing this new feeling I am feeling, I started to wonder why being alone can make a person feel so funky, and I think it is that being alone can force a person to have to spend time with themselves. It makes you have to pay attention to your own thoughts and feelings, and sometimes, that is very difficult to do because we might discover things up there in our brains that make us a little uncomfortable. You might realize that you are unhappy in your job, or relationship, or that you are unhappy with your weight, or the way you have been treating a friend. When you are alone, you have the opportunity to recognize these thoughts that are up in your brain that you can usually ignore because you are too busy. Or you can ignore them because you are with other people and can focus on their thoughts and feelings.

While I do not recommend dwelling on these thoughts to the point of madness, I do think that every once in awhile, it is important to be alone with yourself. To check in with yourself. Not just in the car on the way home from work or in the bathroom when you pee. But completely alone. Away from distractions and other people. Purposeful aloneness (aloneness is an actual word--I Googled it).

Now, I am not saying that I am enjoying this feeling of loneliness. And maybe this entire blog is just a ginormous effort at convincing myself that this feeling of loneliness is actually a good thing and that I am completely fine, but whose to say it is all bad? I mean, I feel a little blah, and OK yes, I have been talking out loud to myself a little too much, but I did get out of ironing my skirt for a little longer all because I was feeling a little lonely and thought I should write about it. So it can't be all bad, right?

I think I am right. I think that it is OK to feel lonely, and it is important to have time to yourself, with your own thoughts. No, I do not plan on becoming a hermit. Yes, I am slightly looking forward to going to work tomorrow so I can talk to some people. But for right now I am going to just be alone, maybe feel a little lonely and come up with some other thing to do to further prolong the ironing of the skirt.

The Breakup Breakdown

Here is the thing—I really do not want this to turn into a blog about relationships. For one, unless you are my mom, or the relationship being discussed involves a Pitt or Jolie, no one really cares. For two, who wants to read another blog written by another twenty-something about relationships? Let’s face it-- we can’t all be Carrie Bradshaw.

But I feel that I must make an exception for this blog post. And I promise this is not just going to be a blog about a break-up. But *SPOILER ALERT* this is, in essence, a blog about a break-up.

Talk about turning my own little world upside down. After being in a stable relationship for almost five years, I decided to break up with my boyfriend. This decision was not made on a whim. In fact, I had been thinking about it for quite some time and after finally getting the courage to admit it to myself, then say it out loud, and then getting the courage to talk to my friends about it, and then finally getting the courage to actually do it--I did it.

Here was the thing: there was nothing blatantly wrong with our relationship. In fact, it was a relationship most would envy. We were nice to each other; we gave each other our space but also were supportive of each other; we enjoyed hanging out. This is why for so long, I was able to ignore the feeling in my gut telling me that it wasn’t meant to be. I wanted it to feel right so bad and I wanted it to work out, but I had known for awhile that it just wasn’t and couldn’t.

I felt so guilty that I couldn’t make it work, and for some reason, I was embarrassed. I kept thinking that there has to be something wrong with me: here is a guy who adores me and does anything I ask and is so sweet and caring—why do you not want to marry him!?!?

No Kathryn, it’s not a rhetorical question! Why do you not want to marry him?! I used to ask myself this question and try so hard to find an answer that I could work with, but the honest answer is that there was no answer. I wish there was, but the only thing I could come up with was that it didn’t feel right.

Isn’t it odd that for so long, that wasn’t good enough? Why is it, I wonder, did I think that there had to be something wrong in order to justify ending this relationship? Why wasn’t just having this feeling and just knowing deep down inside enough? It seems that so many women are programmed to think that unless he is cheating on you, or hitting you, or, I don’t know, just an asshole, then we should be happy and not complain. However, as my friend always says, “just because someone is nice to you doesn’t mean you have to date them.”

And it’s true. Yes, he was an amazing boyfriend, and I do not regret the 5 years that we spent together, but when I looked myself in the mirror and was honest with myself, those feelings that I was supposed to be having just weren’t there. And to me, that is a good enough reason to move on.

I knew I needed to do it, but for the longest time, I couldn’t. For a while, I gave myself the excuse that it would just be too complicated to end this relationship that I knew in my gut I shouldn’t be in. I mean, all of the furniture was mine, we still had 2 months left on our lease, and would this mean that I had to give him back all of my sleep shirts that are actually his?

But, I decided that unless I wanted to be divorced with a couple of kids by 30, I had to end it soon. I can’t even imagine the complications of a divorce, because when I was looking at undoing a 5-year-long relationship, it all seemed so complicated, and I didn’t even have to contact an attorney. When you date someone for that long, your lives become so interconnected in so many ways--especially when you move to a new state together and live together for a year. Talk about a tangled web.

It was at my friend’s wedding in Mexico that I finally ran out of excuses. (And no, the irony of deciding to break up with my boyfriend while at a wedding is not lost on me). It was in Mexico that for the very first time I said out loud, “I have to breakup with him.” Then I ran the idea by my friend (not the bride—I figured I wouldn’t discuss my breakup with her at her own wedding). When I said it out loud again to my friend, I realized that yes, this was the right decision. Sometimes, hearing yourself say something out loud can really clear things up.

So no, the reason I lost weight while in Mexico was not because I was only drinking my meals….it was because I was facing one of the more difficult things I have ever done in my life when I got back, and just didn’t feel like eating tacos—which if you know me at all, is a really big deal.

Anyways, I did return home and I did go through with it. The details of the breakup are besides the point and something I would like to keep private. Honestly, it is all kind of a blur and I owe my sanity to my friends who all gave support in their own ways: a place to stay, a hug (or 5), a case of Red Bull, a drink (or 5), a meal, a talk. I think for so long I was afraid that I would not be able to handle being on my own—that I would fall apart. Not only did I realize that I was strong enough to handle it, but I had the friends I needed to help hold me together.

It has been about a month, and I am still figuring things out, but I still know I made the right decision. I listened to myself and was honest with myself, which strangely enough, is sometimes the hardest person to be truthful with. A lot has changed (and we know how I feel about change), but I had a talk with myself about it and I have decided to forgo the breakup-breakdown that I was so certain I was going to have. I'd rather keep telling myself that I can handle this, because it is actually getting easier to believe each day.

Commencing countdown....

In about 7.5 hours, my alarm will go off. I will probably hit snooze, then convince myself to roll out of the bed. It will be 4:30 a.m., a time that I won't believe exists until my alarm proves it. I will proceed to dress and prepare to run more than I ever have in my life.

I know I'm ready. I have put in the hours training, spending entire Saturdays running and then recovering. I have researched the race route and have compiled the perfect running playlist for my ipod shuffle. I have my banana and bagel ready right next to my 5 Hour Energy. And I have officially perfected the art that is carb-loading.

I, along with 32,000 crazy others, will run through Nashville racing towards many different goals. Some are running to fight cancer. Some are running to fight fat. Some are just crazy. I am running for myself.

For me, this whole experience has been me testing myself. Can you really do this Kathryn? (I think so...) You know you can just quit! (That sounds so tempting) Why don't you just do this next year? (Well, I guess I could?)

So far, I have passed every test. I have learned that I am stronger than I ever thought I was. I have learned that I can accomplish a goal that I set for myself. I have learned that I can choose to be the master of myself.

Tomorrow is the final test. There might be some obstacles thrown in (rain, lightning, tornadoes, etc.), but I am confident I will pass this one as well.

I put this quote on my cubicle wall this week and have read it multiple times every day:

"Now if you are going to win any battle you have to do one thing. You have to make the mind run the body. Never let the body tell the mind what to do. The body will always give up. It is always tired morning, noon, and night. But the body is never tired if the mind is not tired. When you were younger the mind could make you dance all night, and the body was never tired...You've always got to make the mind take over and keep going."
- George S. Patton, U.S. Army General and 1912 Olympian

I have been known to dance all night...so really, this is probably going to be a piece of cake.

Come on 13.1 miles....let's dance:)

I challenge you to a foot race.

I have always had the goal of running either a half or a full-marathon by the time I turned 25. This always seemed like a great goal for a few reasons. Let me list them out for you:

1) I would get in super-awesome shape.

2) People will think I am a bad-ass.

3) All those people would be right, because I would be a bad-ass.

4) I will never turn 25, so I don't really need to worry about this anyway.

Ahh, youth (I can say that because I am almost 25, right?). I must admit, all of the above are fabulous reasons, however the fourth one carried the flaw because last year I turned 24 which means this year I will turn 25 and since I do not want to let myself skimp out on a goal (and since I would love to be a bad-ass), I have registered to run in the Country Music Marathon and Half-Marathon which takes place on April 24th right here in my new hometown of Nashville.

I started training in November. I set out with the idea that I would start training and then decide if I wanted to run the full marathon--26.2 miles--or the half-marathon--do the math people.

My first run was awesome. I felt fantastic. I was a little winded, but pretty good overall. I thought to myself "this is going to be cake." I asked my friend, “How much did we just do?”

“Two miles,” she said.

That is when I decided to do the 13.1 (can't forget the .1) miles of the half-marathon.

Training was going great but then it started to get cold. VERY cold. And it is way more fun to play in the snow or lay by the fire than it is to go running in the cold. I had made it up to running 7 miles and was even getting used to running in pants, two sweatshirts, a vest, scarf, hat, gloves and with snot running down my face.

Then I think I hit the proverbial wall. I flaked out. I didn’t run from the 3^rd week of January until the middle of March. I just didn’t really feel like running anymore. I think it was the Winter Blues, because when the sun started shining in March, I threw on my running shorts and shoes and set out to see just how far I could run.

It was on this day that I discovered the magic elixir that is 5 Hour Energy. I was stopping at the Mapco to grab a Gatorade and Power Bar and on a whim, grabbed an orange flavored 5 Hour Energy shot. I got back into the car, peeled the plastic covering off of the lid, read the instructions (Drink half for moderate energy….), shrugged and in a nod to my days as a college freshman, shot the whole thing down, then grabbed my Gatorade to chase it.

My drive to my favorite running spot (i.e. the flattest place I could find in Nashville) is about 15 minutes. Around minute 8, I felt the 5 Hour Energy kick in, and I was suddenly shaking with energy. After the first 5 miles of the run, I stopped at the car, swigged some Gatorade and took a bite of my Power Bar and realized I still had SOO much energy! So, I put my headphones back in and just kept right on running. That little drink kept me going for 5 more miles for a total of 10. More than I had ever run in my life. Magical, really. Plus—5 Hour Energy is completely legal, right?

So the following few Saturdays looked something like this: 5 Hour Energy; run, run, run; amazing runners high during which I call everyone I know and make a million plans for that night involving dinner, drinking and dancing (Me: "I feel so great and I just have so much energy and I just want to go dancing!!"); then crashing so hard I end up on the couch for the remainder of the night unable to move. Good times.

Now, here I sit in bed after a six-miler with two bags of ice on my knees and one week until the 13.1 (you can't forget the .1) miles of the Country Music Half-Marathon. The past few months of running have taught me a few things. Let me list them out for you:

1) Running is great therapy.

2) If you just keep your feet moving, you'll go farther than you ever thought possible.

3) A good song goes a long way.

4) Running is a great way to explore a new place.

5) The first couple of miles always suck.

6) You will have good runs and bad runs….don’t let the bad ones get you down.

7) Sometimes, you just have to walk….and that is ok…it’s like running, just slower.

Today at work I was talking with my friend who has already reached the bad-ass stage. He is the kind of runner who gets up early before work and goes running for fun. You know, a fun little 8-miler before work, no big deal. Anyway, we were talking today when I was heading out to go on my run after work, and I was not really looking forward to it. I asked him, "Why do we do this to ourselves?!?"

He said, "Because think how good you will feel when you are done."

And he is right. We do it for that feeling that comes right at the end of a run. Because let’s face it— the act of actually running sucks: it is brutal on your body and can make you feel physically and mentally miserable.

But right when you are finished, and you are gasping for breath and thanking God you are still alive, you remember why you ran in the first place--for that feeling that comes right when you are done. The feeling of invincibility and of all of your problems fading away. The feeling that you really and truly are a bad-ass. 5 Hour Energy isn’t the drug--running is, because you do start to become addicted to that feeling. Runners truly are just a bunch of addicts who will go miles for their next hit. And I think I have joined their club.

So stay tuned. The race is about a week away, and here is the best part: carb-loading!!!!!!! Come on Olive Garden never-ending pasta bowl—let’s do this.

Could you spare some change?

Change. For some, this word brings with it feelings of excitement. For others, this six-letter word seems more like a four-letter word. For all, however, change is inevitable.

I've had my ups and downs with change. Let's call it a love-hate relationship, although it started out pretty-much all hate...

According to my parents, when I was 3 and we moved into a new house, I spit on all the kitchen cabinets and tried to break them. I don't know why I chose to pick on the cabinets, but apparently, those cabinets represented everything bad and scary about this big change taking place in my 3-year-old life. I wonder why that at age 3, I knew to be wary of change. It was a very nice house and I even had my own room with Ballerina Teddy Bear wall paper. But I was pissed. And those poor cabinets never even saw me coming.

I survived the big move but inevitably, had other run-ins with change. For instance, every year after summer, I had to have a whole new class in school, with a whole new teacher. We moved into a new house again (I spared the cabinets this time). Then, even my own body turned on me and started changing. It seemed that the more I wanted things to stay the same, the more things changed.

After some really big changes (high school, dating, breakups, college, etc.), and some less-than-glamorous reactions to those changes--let's just say it was worse than spitting-- I ended up in a therapists office on a big chair terrified that I was about to hear that I was indeed, straight-up crazy.

Instead, after telling her my life story, she says quite simply, "So it seems that you do not do well with change."

After informing her that the sky was indeed blue and Captain Obvious wasn’t actually a member of the armed forces, I agreed. So what does this mean for me, Doc? A life spent living at home with my parents fighting anything that threatens change?

No--just 2 years worth of therapy (thanks Mom and Dad)!

So, for the next 2 years, I lounged on the big comfy chair while my therapist explained why my brain worked the way it did and why it was possible to still live my life the way I wanted (i.e.: not cowering at home with my parents). Long story short, for some reason, I had trained my brain to automatically react negatively to change, however I had the power to change (ironic, no?) this process.

My therapist laid out a pretty strong argument: I had experienced a lot of change—and I was still alive and kicking.

This was true...the many changes I experienced never knocked me over dead. She informed me that it was all about slowing down the automatic thoughts in my brain and actually having a say in what I was going to feel instead of my brain taking over and just automatically feeling a certain way. I had a choice in the matter—a vote! What a liberating idea.

All of these lessons came just in time. As fate would have it, the next year of my life looked something like this: graduate college; move home; backpack Europe which involved changing locations every few days (and sleeping in places I never thought I would dare to); move to Jacksonville for internship; start new internship; move home again; move out of childhood house into condo with parents and begin sharing bathroom with younger brother; start new internship; start new job.

Phew….and that was all in about 7 months! Exhausting, but again, there I was with all that change behind me, still alive and other than the frustrations that sharing a bathroom with a 17-year-old boy might bring, still kicking.

It was after this realization that my attitude about change began—well--changing. Maybe change wasn’t all that bad? In fact, maybe life would be kind of boring without it. Maybe change was necessary to keep us all moving forward. Maybe, just maybe…change is a good thing?

I was pretty proud of myself for getting to this point. I felt I had experienced a breakthrough and could handle anything. So I got a little cocky.

“Let’s move to Nashville!” I exclaimed to my boyfriend Troy.

No reaction. Appropriate, considering he probably thought I was just joking around.

“HellOOO! I said let’s move to Nashville.”

“Are you serious?” Troy said.

“Yes. I mean I think so,” I said.

Turns out I was. A few months later we were loading up a U-Haul bound for Tennessee. I had $3,000 saved; no job lined up and knew approximately one person in Nashville. Good plan.

Talk about change. For one, there are no beaches here and a lot of hills. Yes, I cried a lot, and yes I really missed my family at first, and yes, looking for a job in a city where you need to MapQuest your way across the street is difficult, but I kept moving through it all and never once (Ok, maybe once) did I think of running back home. I knew that this was a good change and that I just had to keep moving forward even if it meant being a little uncomfortable at times.

It has almost been a year since we moved to Nashville, and again, I am still alive and kicking. Once I learned I can handle a change as big as moving to a whole new city, I started to get excited about change. I changed cars (I LOVE my Subaru); found a new job and new favorite restaurants. I traded in my long, curly hair for a short and straight look and have met new friends whom I now cannot imagine my life without. I lived through summer changing into fall then fall changing into winter and the trees are now in full bloom with spring. I am in love with all of this change.

So there it is. My complicated, so-called relationship with the six little letters of change. Like most relationships, mine with change is still evolving. I got upset a few months ago that I had to change cubicles at work, and it took me 3 days to move all of my stuff from my old cube to my new one…even though they are across the aisle from each other (Ok, I guess you can say I was dragging my feet a little). However, at the hair salon the other day I opted to change my hair to a new shade of blonde (it looks fabulous, thank you for asking). I think change and I have just decided to take it one day at a time. If that plan doesn’t work, I guess there is always room for change.

Nice to meet you

My name is Kathryn. I go by Kathryn, Kat, Kath--anything with a "K" really. I am 24. I am from Florida. I love the sun.

Currently, I live in Nashville, TN. No, I do not play the guitar or sing, but I LOVE this place.

I love Mexican food. WAY too much.

I am a die-hard Florida Gator fan. I will fight people over this obsession. I think they brainwashed us my freshman year at UF.

I am not cool, but try to be most of the time. I am way too loud to be cool.

I talk a lot. Right now, I get paid to talk, so everybody wins--especially me.

I love my family very much and miss them. My little brother is the wisest person I know. You'll meet him.

I like to dance. If there is a stage, I will attempt to get on it. I love taking baths and I try to do so as often as possible.

I have seen some of the world and want to see more of it (15 countries and counting...).

I love my boyfriend Troy. He is the kindest person I know. He is home to me.

My dogs are Simon and Mackenzie. Simon is intense. Mackenzie is confused a lot.

I fancy myself a runner. Red bull gives me wings.

My parents are my heroes. They are cool, and I don't think they even try.

I love coffee. It brings me to life (and tastes delicious!)

I am naturally curious. I wonder why that is? I am very excitable (is that a word?)

I like to write and that is why we are meeting now, so---nice to meet you.