#strongasawoman

A running (no pun intended) joke in my family, my cousin’s young son once asked me, “How did your legs get so big?”

While some ladies may take this as an insult, I found sweet Kaleb’s innocent question to be a compliment.  How did my legs get to be so big, little guy?  I’ll tell you.

My legs have gotten to be so big from playing roughly 7,000 hours of soccer, 4,000 hours of basketball, and 3,000 hours of softball over the past 27 years. Running four half marathons and one full marathon over a total of 680 minutes hasn’t hurt either.   My body is strong so that I can hold Plank, Tree, and Chair poses as long as I’d like.  I can throw a good upper cut at my boxing coach, Matt Morin, can propel my body (somewhat) swiftly through a lake or pool, and can bike uphill faster than 200-pound men, too. Yesterday, my strong body helped me complete my first sprint triathlon. And might I add that my trusty body has been doing all of this with my new ACL, which I acquired in 2006.  Nice job on my surgery, Dr. Fenton!

Woodnote Photography

At work, my strong body helps me serve as a physical therapist for hundreds of infants, toddlers, children, and teenagers annually. I hop, skip, climb stairs, lift, balance, and run continuously for several hours every day, and I get paid to do so.  Fun, right?!  At home, I mow my grass, take my dog for walks, bear-hug my husband, and carry loads of clean laundry up and down the stairs with my big, strong body.  And yes, I AM all about that bass (shout out to my girl, Meghan Trainor!)

I am so strong that I swept my husband off his feet when I first met him at a pick-up soccer game, at which, I was one of two women playing in a sea of twenty grown men. (Yeah, Elizabeth Crane!)  I proceeded to lift my husband up on our wedding day, and when we just moved into our new home, I thought it’d be better if I carried HIM through the doorway, rather than have him carry me through.  (No offense, Kurt… I love you like crazy, and I think YOU are so strong, too!)

My legs aren’t my only big feature, sweet Kaleb. If you’re wondering, I have a pretty big heart and a pretty big brain, too.  My strong heart allows me to comfort parents who have lost their children, to encourage young kiddos who are struggling with cancer and other illnesses, and to build up my husband, parents, and sisters when they’ve had hard days. My strong brain has helped me through twenty years of somewhat strenuous academics, and it helped me earn a doctorate at the age of 23. I am strong enough to know when I need help, and when I need to slow myself down.

One day, I pray that my strong body allows me to bring new lives into this beautiful world.  I pray that I can provide sustenance to my babies, and I pray that I will have the strength to carry on day after day while my infant and toddlers transform me into one tired mama.  I will use my strength to lift my babies off the changing table, to throw my kids into the pool, and to finally send them off to college, where they will be able to further grow and develop into strong individuals, too.

So, you wonder, am I as strong as a man?  No, I am as strong as a woman, and that is pretty damn strong.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for helping me grow into a strong, confident woman.  Girls, young and old, celebrate your beautiful bodies, and be PROUD of who you are!

God bless you, Serena.  Thank you for being #strongasawoman.

Fight...for our right!

Well.

This must be the world record for longest ATTEMPT at writing a blog post. I have sat down, with head and heart aligned, took one look at this blank space, and immediately found something easier to do. I have always loved to write...but turns out when it is about myself and more specifically the timeline in the last year...the potential of this blank space was utterly overwhelming.

But today...today is better timing. I took a step in the right direction today, literally, an actual step!! First time walking since surgery 6 weeks ago. And miraculously enough, this is the first painfree step I have taken since last June. There are no words to describe what I felt. Such a simple action, but such a complicated course to get there.

You know the story, no need for me to make that selfless and violent action into words again. But I spent the last year angry and just so so sad. My livelihood was stolen right from under me and I was left stripped down to basics. The fear I had of being face to face with a sense of self that I could not recognize made the recovery from this experience exponentially difficult for me.

I struggled. I cried (alot). I isolated myself from my friends. Struggled some more. Somehow managed to completely lose sight of how to care for myself. My mom was the one who basically forced me to seek help. I was initially reluctant, but agreed. And now I can say with wholehearted belief that is THE BEST thing I have ever done for myself. Not only going through counseling, but the act of SEEKING counseling and recognizing I needed help. I have never done this. Always the ears for others, but unable to speak on my own behalf.

The following quote from a kickass lady named Audre Lorde has provided me with so much strength. Our society has taught us to disregard our well being for the greater good of production. We have become so busy DOING, that our schedules do not allow for time to just BE. And my God...what a disservice that is to us all.

Through this experience, I learned how to fight for myself. I learned how to explore dark portions of my life that needed light. I learned how to ask for help. We tend to cling tighter to achievements that have left us weary, and I can say that taking my first few steps today, I have truly never been more proud of myself. Audre speaks so loudly to me with these words. Moving forward from this last chapter, my friend, may we must always be our own strongest soldier.

learning to be

Here I sit, striving to be a human being.

Currently, and for as long as I can remember, I've been a human doing. "A lady traveling at 80 miles per hour with her hair on fire."  "You have GOT to slow down, Lizzie."  I can't help it, you see. I come from a long line of achievers. I see a need, and I want to take charge-- DO something about it! It is not in me to sit back and watch someone else do... wait for someone else to do... or worse yet, watch the need not be met.  I want to help. I want to fix. I want to comfort. I want to DO.

And there it is.

My need.

March, 2015: Learning to crochet in London

My need to learn to sit back and learn to relax. Learn to simply BE. Learn to give up my worries to God and move forward confidently in life, creating the life I want and need.


I am impatient, and now that I've discovered that I need to learn to simply be, I want to be good at it!  I want to be proficient at just being! And I want to be good at BEING now!    However, this is part of the problem. This journey we call life is just that-- a journey. Like Fr. Tim said at mass a few weeks ago: Each one of us is always a work in progress. We are never complete. We are constantly growing, developing, changing, learning...

Weeks, months, and years of constant DOING brought me here. To a place and time where my job is to BE... to learn to sit in silence... to listen to myself... to grow in my relationship with my husband, my family, and my friends... to feel okay with making mistakes... to be easier on myself... to understand myself just a little bit better so that I can work towards living the life I want to live, rather than living the life that I think I need to live.

So here I sit... learning to be.