Why Getting Married at 20 Was My Best Decision Ever/Haters Gon' Hate

I spent a decent amount of time between the ages of 17 and 21 searching out and drinking booze. In fact, I spent an entire year of that living in my own apartment after graduating high school, not going to college, and doing shots in my kitchen when I wasn't working or blowing my money. Friends and I roamed the streets of Deep Ellum, and other various locations in downtown Dallas, going to shows, getting tattooed and pierced, and drinking vats of coffee until the wee hours of the morning. 

Eventually I made my way back into education. The weekend before moving into my first semester at school, I was involved in an accident that totaled my car. I had bruises that left me unable to wear a bra, let alone sleep comfortably. I had been dropped off in a new, different city, with no car. On top of that, I had the world's cattiest, loudest, worst roommate possible. I mean, what kind of 18-year-olds leave Dora the Explorer on all night long? I had 8:00AM classes, and I was over it.

I met all sorts of people, most of which I gave the benefit of the doubt, but walked away from thinking they were morons. By this point, I'd had my fair share of potential flings, and one hardly serious boyfriend. None of which hung around for much longer than a few months. Sitting in front of my dorm, cynically smoking tons of cigarettes at 19, I met a younger version of my Mountain Man. He thought everyone was stupid, too. Needless to say, we hit it off from the get go.

I had no intentions of getting married ever, let alone to my first serious relationship since high school. I've never believed in love at first sight (cynic, remember?), but somehow, I knew he was the proverbial one. I could feel it. I'd heard people say, "sometimes, you just know." And as simple as that, I just knew. So did he. Long story short, we moved in together, got engaged the following Christmas, got married in the courthouse with only our parents in attendance in January, and bought a house that we made our first home in June. 

We quit smoking together. We have taken tons of road trips and tons of pictures. We have gone on, and still go on, all sorts of dates. We, for all intents and purposes, grew up together. Then, of course, we survived a pregnancy together, and had our sweet little guy, Frank. On purpose, I might add. Neither of us were finished with our degrees, nor are we now (though he graduates in December. Go, Mountain Man, go!). I may even have more kids before I'm done with mine! I have all kinds of time to finish that degree that isn't entirely necessary to have a photography business. But, I won't be young forever. My family is my top priority (though I really, REALLY, REALLY want my degree. Don't get me wrong).

So who cares that we took the unconventional road? Who cares that we married quickly, and at 20 and 21? Apparently, a lot of people do. I even had it put, that at 30 when those who married too young get divorced, they spend a lot of depressing time trying to reclaim their wasted youths. Usually, I keep my opinions to myself as far as the internet is concerned, but sometimes I just can't control myself. Instead of swiftly typing, "BITCH, YOU DON'T KNOW MY LIFE!" in response (which is always my very strong first instinct), I take my time to calmly and carefully formulate my responses. But still, they are met with bastardized science, and more ignorance (and you know I can't just go around biting my tongue when people just drag science through mud like that, I've beat too many textbooks into my skull to let that shit go- plz excuse my language in this post). I am constantly questioning the Fs, palming my face, and s-ing my head when it comes to social networking. And, I mean, I'm pretty good at spotting trolls. 

Mountain Man shares the same, if not a deeper, level of understanding of the world (we've beat our heads against the same textbooks), and we can have intelligent conversations together. I constantly thank God that I am not married to an idiot. He is, at the most basic level, my beacon of hope in a world full of stupid. I no longer have to wade through other peoples' bullshit. We can retreat into our home together after a long day of more WTFs, SMHs, and facepalms. 

I don't think I wasted a single ounce of my youth. I lived it up, I participated in my fair share of partying. So did Mountain Man. We even partied together. Frankly, I grew tired of that crap pretty darn quick. I wouldn't have accepted his proposal if I didn't understand the ramifications of my decision. Forever is forever. We just got started on our forever a little sooner. But what can I say? Haters gon' hate.

Looking Forward

I blink and suddenly here we are, mid-June. I've been slowly whittling away the pounds in between all of the teething and crawling going on around here. Now I'm sitting at 263. I've happily chucked another four pounds into the not-gaining-this-back bucket. These pushups are definitely not getting any easier, but maybe I'll get some killer arms out of the deal?
The first several months of Frank's life, I viewed my body in a more utilitarian way. It's function? Sustain baby. I was a walking, emotional, (leaking..), post-partum blob on legs. My body is FINALLY starting to regain shape. My curves are returning along with a healthy dose of confidence, and I feel more and more like a human being every day (and much less like that blob). That pre-pregnancy number is finally within grasp. Oh, and, I finally did it. I bit the bullet and bought a bigger pair of jeans and I haven't looked back.

My photography is still headed in the right direction, as my return-to-school-semester looms overhead. As much as I'm dreading the logistics of child care, applying for child care grants, scheduling pick-ups and drop-offs, homework during nap time... the anticipation and excitement are slowly building for being back in a classroom setting. A lot of good things are coming this fall and I cannot wait to share them. Not only will I knocking out a semester worth of classes (let's just beat this dead horse, shall we?), but my best friend is getting married in October and I'll be maid of honor/photographer at said wedding, Frank's epic first birthday party will come in November, and don't even get me started on the holiday season. I'm trying to be patient (you know, since it's still only June), but I am so ready to start a few wonderful and beautiful traditions with my sweet boy. Did I mention he's crawling?!

In other news, baby sister graduated high school. Besides the immense pride, all I feel is old, old, old.

A New Day, & I'm Feelin' Good

I have commitment issues.

Occasionally, I try to make commitments to this blog. For example, I'm going to take, and post, a new photo with a predetermined theme each day this month. I'm going to update with my weekly/monthly weight loss progress regularly. I'm going to graduate with my shiny science degree, and then have a baby.

Welp. That didn't quite pan out as I'd planned. Life happens, and this month has been full of it (life happenings, and well, poop).

I have, however, managed to keep some very important commitments. I am very committed, and happily married, to my Mountain Man. I've also kept my commitments as Frank's mommy, and to the rest of the critters who share our living space. I've kept my commitment to feeling better about myself, and have completed my running plan! WOOHOO! Who has two thumbs and can complete a solid 20-minute run, sans puking? This girl. Now it's time to work that up to a solid 30, then see about fitting three miles into that half hour (color run, here I come!).

My weight has been steady, sitting around at 267. No major gains, and no losses. But hey, that's alright. I'm making progress in other ways that some number cannot measure. Frankly, the scale can go screw itself. Speaking of weight loss, and my body (and my body image issues that I've carried around with me my entire life), I have been looking at myself in all wrong ways. (WOAH. I know what you're all thinking, who would do such a thing?) I have approached this weight loss with the wrong attitude. I even said that I would not, under any circumstances, purchase a bigger pair of jeans. Why would I put that ridiculous restraint on myself? My body has changed. I had a baby for crying out loud. It's time I backed into this from another angle. It's time to start dressing my body for how it is right now, this very second, and loving my body for how it is right now. I've always had this mentality of, "I will love myself more if I could just lose [insert number] more pounds. Then I will really be beautiful."

If I heard any of this bull come out of my friends' collective mouths, I'd slap 'em. Not really, guys. But, isn't it time that I start holding myself to these standards, instead of the ones set by society?

May 17: Black & White

I've been wanting to take this shot (or a similar one) for a while. Now that Frankie is sitting up on his own, I was finally able to! This is more of a rough draft, but it's just about all of the sitting still he would tolerate. He was more focused on eating the bears. 

1/320, 3.5, ISO 400

May 16: Something Soft

Imogen (& the fish).

May 15: Up Close

 Rye

May 14: Looking Down

I played blog hookie yesterday. Besides, the topic was "in your house," and you've all seen a decent chunk of the inside of my house in this blog already. In fact, this picture of Frankie is in my house.

May 11+12: Derailment: Parts Three & Four

I spent yesterday's morning grocery shopping, and yesterday's afternoon running around taking photographs of eight prom-goers. I've been busy uploading and editing away, so I missed yesterday's "in your bag" blog photo update (I know!). In lieu of  today's "in your yard" photo, these are my favorites from yesterday. Oh, and did I mention one of these attendees is my favorite (only) little sister? All of that cool you see in her, she definitely gets from me.

May 10: Something That Represents You

This is my little slice of the living room. 

I feel that it represents me pretty well, if not just my aesthetic. 

For a few years, this room was unused, except to hold a lot of junk. We'd torn the carpet up, thinking we were going to replace the floor in no time. We even had the cash saved up to do so. Of course, something came up, then something else came up. And again, something else came up. So that cash was gone, lightening fast. Eventually, we had the money put away again. Mountain Man and I got to work clearing out all of the random stuff, and I picked out some paint. I sat on the floor, very pregnant, and scooted around on a cardboard box (on my butt) to paint the bottom half of the walls. I let the man handle the tall stuff (I wasn't about to climb any ladders). Then, the day of my baby shower, Mountain Man and my dad got to work installing the new flooring throughout this room, the kitchen, the hallway, and the office. After a few minor emergencies, and a few weekends, it was all finished.

 

1. The wall. Pregnant/Nesting Tiffani spent an hour with these things on the floor, rearranging them over and over again. Then, she directed as Mountain Man held them up against the wall.
   "Is this where you want it?"
   "A little to the left. No, too far. Down a little. Right there! Well.. maybe to the right just a hair. Did you already put the nail in?"
   In the upper-left-hand corner hangs the Valentine's Day card baby Frank and I made with his footprints. I hung that one. Most of these are refurbished goodwill treasures, and then in the bottom right-hand-corner, a photo of Mountain Man and I from our first year together.
2. The side-table. I constantly clean this table top, but the same crap always ends up on it. Right now, there's a teething ring, Frank's poly-vi-sol and saline, my coffee cup and breakfast plate from this morning, baby lotion, other odds and ends, and ketchup. I hate to see that bottle of ketchup there, because Mountain Man loves to taunt me, saying that I eat ketchup on everything. Of course it would end up on my table (I don't really eat ketchup on everything, but Mountain Man eats ketchup on just about nothing).
3. The lid. This is where I generally stash a few diapers, and wipes. Sometimes it gets just as cluttered as my side-table. Currently, there are several photography books, my camera cleaning kit and bag, those diapers and wipes I previously mentioned, and Eat Pray Love. I'm only just getting around to reading it. I know, I'm about a million years late.
4. The yarn box. This box is almost overflowing with yarn, all of my half-finished (or hardly started) crochet projects, crochet patters, and hooks. Poking out between the couch and the box is the most used phone charger in our house.

It's still a living-room-in-progress, but it's where Frank and I spend most of our time. I take most of my Frankie photos here, drink just about all of my coffee here, feed the baby here, change diapers here, nap here, watch movies here, eat here.. the whole nine yards.

May 9: Derailment: Part Two

This one is supposed to be "yummy," but I didn't feel like being that creative today. Frank had his six-month check-up, so we spent a good chunk of the day in the car and running into buildings through the rain. On the downside, the appointment interrupted nap time and delayed Frankie's mid-morning snack (and we may have gotten a few fun shots) which greatly displeased him. On the upside, we got to visit Grandma and Nana while we were in the neighborhood. When we finally made it back home, Frank took a monster nap, ate some green beans, and grew bored of playing in his exersaucer. Mountain Man and I decided it was time we busted out the blocks. 
They came as a gift in a package of baby things from Michigan when I was very, very pregnant, and they have been poised on his dresser looking lovely for over six months. These blocks are seriously the bee's knees (and will probably serve as study tools later, like when he's a teenager and thinks he knows everything). Maybe he'll like science too.

1/50, 3.5, ISO 1600

May 8: Something You Can't Live Without

I drink at least two cups of coffee a day. Usually, it's three.
I don't know that I could keep up with two dogs, one baby (who is now officially on the move, though not crawling just yet) and a husband without, at minimum, two of those cups.

To go about my day-to-day activities as they are now, I simply cannot live without coffee (never mind that it's completely delicious and I'd drink it decaf if I didn't seriously need at least some caffeination in my life).

On a different note, I love capturing reflections like this one of Frank in the mirror on his toy.
 

When choosing where to photograph my coffee this morning, I saw the light (literally), and decided to leave it be. Behold, the lamp in my cup-o-joe! See what I mean? Reflections are super cool.

 

1/80, 3.5, ISO 1600

May 7: Derailment

May 7th's blog post within the photo challenge is supposed to include a photograph of shoes.


I had this intention as we went outside. I ended up taking zero pictures of shoes, but a lot of pictures of Frank. And, ladybugs.

You're welcome.

This gem was the best kind of accident. My finger slipped when I was focusing and clicked early.

May 6: Geometric

Two toys, two different ways.

1/50, 3.5, ISO 1600

May 5: Something That Makes You Happy

Well, that isn't broad.

I've chosen this photograph of Frankie and Mountain Man.

I shot some family pictures for my mother-in-law in bluebonnets, and when I took this one, it was well into Frank's nap time and he had just demanded to be picked up.

Even though I did not take it today, this is easily one of my favorite pictures of all time, and absolutely makes me very happy.

May 4: Green

Today's photo adventure took me straight outside. I was focusing on the various vegetation inhabiting our backyard, but this one turned out to be my favorite shot. It's pretty green, never mind that it's really a picture of Monty, the little red dog.

1/50, 3.5, ISO 100

May 3: What Inspires You

Today is Mountain Man's birthday.
He inspired this collection of shots I took of baby Frank.

Yeah, yeah. I know I'm trying to take pictures featuring subjects other than Frankie, but what can I say? I'm a sucker.

May 2: Something You Made

As tempted as I was to use a photo of Frank for today (after all, I did, in fact, have a hand in making him), here is a glimpse of a small art project I started the year before baby Frank. We do not have a headboard, so I set out to fill the space above our bed with dreamcatchers. I've made four to date. I should probably get back on that.

The lighting in my bedroom is yucky, so I super-bumped the ISO to compensate. I don't mind the grain here.

1/40, 3.5, ISO 1600

May Photo Challenge: Intro/ May 1: Flower

I find this unnecessary to say, but in the off chance you may not have noticed, a pretty solid 94% of my photographs (+/-) feature the one and only baby Frank. In order to build a well-rounded collection, I need to branch out (which is difficult because he's just so dang adorable). For this reason, and the fact that I've always had the urge but have not participated in one until now, I looked at a 31-day photo challenge for the month of May and thought, "challenge, accepted."

May 1, 2013
Flower

An up-close view of tiny lavender blooms in my window. 1/320, 5.6, ISO 800




Of course, just for good measure, I have to throw in a recent Frank photo :)

Week 8: Better Run Better Run

As of about ten minutes ago, I finished the third installment of week eight's running intervals- six minutes on, one minute off (x3). Week two, I ran a whopping five minutes per 20 minute running session. Now, I'm running 18! I'd definitely call that progress. Hooray! I've also noticed my clothes fitting a bit more loosely, and my face seems to be thinning out. Double hooray!

Me, in all of my post-run, sweat-drenched glory.

 We're coming up on weigh day #2, and I mean fast. I'm not sure how that's going to go. I've been eating pretty well, but I've also been slacking in my other workout areas because I spend every spare moment working on my photography as of late. However, I'm still pretty proud of myself for keeping up with the running. Not to mention, my favorite five-year-old asked me where my belly went. (Triple hooray?)

Anyway. I'll leave you with a few more of my favorite shots from the past week:

Mountain Man is growing rye, and had me photograph it.

And last but not least, this one is my favorite.

Practice, Practice, Practice.

I have committed to shooting my first wedding this summer. This means, time for lots of practice, and remembering. It's time to get serious.

In the past few weeks, I took my first stab at engagement photos for my best friend (and incidentally, her daughter because she's just too adorable), and took some photos for another friend of her beautiful, little sassy-pants of a toddler. Of course, most of my practice has been with baby Frank. 

I love natural light. I crank the blinds and curtains open, and snap away. Frank makes it easy, because he thinks a camera lens in his face is hilarious. But I need to expand my horizons. In some cases, flash is very necessary. Especially outdoors when it's bright and sunny, fill flash can be very helpful. Or in a dark room, or, obviously, at night. I'm terrified of using flash. I hate the look of those harsh, dark shadows. However, in order to really call myself any kind of photographer, I have to get over that one. I dug out my external flash and I am in the process of experimenting and researching. I'll keep you updated on this endeavor. I'm excited to try some flash filters to play with the light. I also discovered adobe creative cloud, and have been using the heck out of photoshop. I smuggly downloaded it, thinking I would easy-breezy remember everything from oh, six or seven years ago. Instead, there was a ton of frustration, and I had a window open devoted to CS6 tutorials on youtube. But we're getting there.

I still have some work to do, but in the meantime, here are a few of my favorites from the last several weeks.

Eisley Marie, 5 going on 17.

Meagan and Nathan

First time swinging at the park.

Pensive Frankie.

Sammy Jo, diva in training.

That hair.

Sweet boy.

Falling Off the Wagon

This past weekend I made some pretty questionable choices. I overslept tons, ate several things I shouldn't have (like onion rings from Whataburger, an enormous plate of Mexican food, and a big mac with fries), did not complete, nor start, any workouts- and subsequently felt like a big, sloth-like, sloppy slob.  

After a great week full of healthy, delicious food, tough workouts, and weight loss, I thought, "I have been exceptionally good, I deserve a treat," which incidentally served as a gateway thought to, "my diet is blown today anyway. Might as well go ahead and eat whatever I want." Each time I ate something detrimental to my success, I felt horrible- and not just mentally. I was bloated, and literally sick to my stomach. By Sunday night, I couldn't believe what I had done to myself, I knew better.
 
Instead of throwing myself a pity party and wallowing in my shame and guilt, which is precisely what I would have done a year ago, I decided to jump back on track. I put my shoes on and dove into week six's three-minute intervals. That's when I realized that I'm half way through my running program. How exciting is that?! Just one weekend off my game hardly means that the progress I've made so far is nil. This was a hard lesson to sink in, since it has taken upwards of 20 years to do so. 

I feel this is a beneficial time to go over a few of the reasons I started in the first place, and add a new one or two:

1. To wear jeans again.
2. Participate in a color run, and run the entire thing.
3. To be a happy and healthy Momma for my baby Frank.
4. TO LOOK FAB IN MY MAID OF HONOR DRESS AT MY BESTIES WEDDING. (I love you Meagan!)

I'm still working on figuring out how to enjoy a "treat" every now and again without overindulging, or feeling the guilt. But I'm glad to have learned that falling off the wagon isn't the worst possible thing that can happen in a weight loss journey. It might even be an important step in the process. What really matters, though, is choosing to get back on.

Nobody can feel blue for long with this face around.

Week 5: Weigh Day!

Just before getting Frank's first bottle ready this morning, I dug out my scale from under the bathroom sink. Tapping the bottom right corner to wake it from its slumber, I pondered how I would feel about the number. Hoping for my efforts to feel validated, I held my breath and stepped on. A few seconds later, there it was: 267! Five pounds in five weeks is definitely something I can be proud of, and will be put to work as an extra boost of motivation for the next month. 

Last week, I completed week four's one-minute-on/one-minute-off running intervals and sailed right into this weeks two-minutes-on/one-minute-off intervals. I am beginning to genuinely enjoy my runs. When I get my shoes on, there's no turning back- even if I happen to be lacking in the motivation department that day. I've continued the arm and ab workouts, adding more reps as we go along. The new addition this month is a workout calendar I pinned some time ago called "Tuff Butt April" (obviously, this calendar was created for a different year, but I can deal).  My legs are already reeling from the squats and lunges. But hey, that means it's working, right?

I'm keeping this one short and sweet. Besides, I have some weight-loss celebrating to do! And, what's a blog post without a hint of baby Frank? Mountain Man stumbled across my missing USB.

Your Mom Goes to College

When I learned there was a Frank growing in my belly, I was partway through the spring '12 semester. I thought I'd be able to continue classes throughout my pregnancy. Boy, was I dead wrong. I can just imagine myself hauling ass across campus, stopping to puke every twenty feet (in the bushes, on the sidewalk, in parking spots, on some poor someone's shoes..), strategically seating myself near doors in labs and lectures, with my lovely gags echoing down main hallways. Fortunately, none of these things managed to occur (at school, anyway). After spending a few days in bed, I dragged my feet into my organic chemistry II class, only to learn that I missed a test. It was time to pull the plug.  

Since then, I've been out of school. I started out as a music major, switched over to art major, then took a 180 and dove headfirst into biology. When I started the trek through the sciences, I was headed toward veterinary medicine. I was educating myself in order to procure a career. Along the way, I found other things I liked more within biology and let go of becoming a veterinarian. I am too squeamish around blood anyway. After a few semesters of banging textbooks against my forehead hoping to just absorb the information, it started to click. I fell in love with ecology, and all things pertaining to biodiversity and evolution. Mountain Man and I found ourselves in a lot of the same classes (he was the chemistry to my biology). I have around four semesters of advanced electives and labs left, plus or minus a stray English class or so until I have a shiny degree under my belt. However, while away, I ended up with ample time for some soul searching. 

During said ample, soul-searching-time, I rediscovered some old loves that I let fall by the wayside. I decided it was time to be honest with myself. If I were to choose a major without the influence of what job I would have once I finished, I would be back in art, focusing on photography- hands down. (You can look at some old photography of mine here, keep in mind that I was a sceenie-weenie teenager at the time). In the meantime, I've been taking trillions of photos of baby Frank, but my card reader is broken and my camera's USB walked out on us, so the pictures are locked away in several compact flash cards until I get my hands on some replacements.

Earlier this week, Mountain Man and I took baby Frank with us back up to campus so I could re-enroll for the fall semester. For (hopefully) the final time, I will be changing my major back to art. I can easily complete the degree in around the same time as it will take to complete my former degree, but with a less strenuous workload (and hey, maybe I already have a biology minor). I can't see myself having fun or focusing (at all) in cell biology or organic chemistry labs while my baby is in daycare. Education is important, and always has been for me. I want to graduate.

The one thing I dread the most about going back to school, is taking Frank to daycare. I am also worried about my time management, or how high the dishes will pile up when I am back in class. Or how backed up the laundry will be. How much extra gas will it take to run all over town everyday? When, exactly, will I be able to study or do homework? Will I get enough sleep? Will Frank be sick all of the time from his little friends? What if Frank doesn't get into the daycare I want? Will he be happy? Can I trust his teachers? How much is daycare going to cost? What if we don't get the child care grant? 

Baby Frank and I have been in our own little world for the last (almost) five months, and I am not sure I will be ready to reinsert myself into society come August. As for now, we will be getting the most out of our exclusive time together until then. (We'll also be trying to figure out how to afford Adobe PS).

Bonus Frank picture :D

Week 3: Motivate Me

Can you believe it? We are three weeks into this thing already. My shoes showed up at my front door not two hours after posting Week 2. Hooray! They are squishy, and amazing, and I love them. Moving on. 

 

Yesterday, I started week three of the running program I've been following (see plan in Week 1's blog). Most of my runs are with baby Frank, but some of them I have done on my own. It is almost easier having Frank with me because I am more focused on him than I am the running (and by running, I am in fact referring to the lactic acid burning in my leg muscles, and the angry shouts coming from my lungs directed at yours truly). This probably means the running that I do sans Frank is more effective, but c'est la vie.  

Don't let me fool you. I feel awesome between runs, and especially awesome just after completing a run when I'm stretching on the living room floor. But during them, I am finding any and every excuse to quit. I'm almost back around by the house, maybe I should just pack it in. This is too hard. Holy. Crap. What was I thinking? Can I justify just turning back? Maybe Frank needs a diaper change. Maybe I have to pee?.... and so on. If I'm not trying to think up a reason to stop, I'm counting seconds and staring at my timer on my phone. Yesterday, I found myself start to go there again. I had seven minutes of running this time, instead of five (dispersed between varied lengths of walking) and I was really feeling it. There are infinitely many reasons why I want to do this (so maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration, but there are quite a few). So, during a particularly difficult interval, I started listing them off:

1. To get healthy.
2. To fit into my jeans. 
3. To look better in a swimsuit this summer.
4. To feel good about my body and myself.
5. To FINALLY participate in a color run.
6. ONE-DERLAND. 

With each minute on, I repeated these to myself (bikini body, step, bikini body, step, jeans, one-derland, step, bikini body, step, jeans, step, one-derland, jeans, step, etc). When I did this, as opposed to whining to myself and being a Debby-downer, I found the running minutes were over before I knew it. I also increased my distance to 1.2 miles from the .8 miles I was going last week (each lap I do around my street equates to .4 miles, so I added an entire third lap). Go figure.  


Last week, in addition to the running/walking, I added a new arm workout that I found on pinterest (where else?). I dug out a pair of 3lb dumbbells I knew we had hiding in the house and got to it. I very much enjoy this one. It's no walk in the park, but I'm not killing myself either. I can feel my muscles working with each rep, and certainly feel it after I complete the workout. Someday when I grow a money tree, I'll buy some heavier weights. Until then, I'll be using these babies. I've continued the ab workout that I also posted week one, but I am now on the hunt for another one to step it up a notch. 

So there you have it, my week's shenanigans. I will leave you with a final piece of motivation that I particularly fancy. Some runs are seemingly immaculate, shiny runs to be proud of-  the ones where you find some magic burst of spare energy and sprint the last thirty seconds, or shave minutes off of a previous time. Some are just sloppy, slow and distracted. That doesn't mean those runs were for naught. I can be proud of my bad runs too.