Juli's Blog

I was three days out of surgery when it dawned on me that my tattoo was right in the surgery line.

Fast forward to yesterday, the splint comes off, and I look and yep, toasty was stapled.

I got this tattoo of a toasted marshmallow to remind myself that you can feel like you are going through hell and just come out a little different. Toasty is a conversation starter. I am okay with that.

I am okay with people asking and me telling them that you can make through anything. I have other tattoos, they all have meanings. One is in memory of Kip. One reminds me, that life like music is that we can choose how we remember events in out lives.

Tattoos like people tell stories. Like my running, I got my first tattoo at 47. I have gotten the rest over the past few years. My tattoos are visual reminders to tell my story.

We all have a story to tell. When you have a cast on your leg people ask you for your story. I will tell you. Running and broke my ankle and then in the immortal words of Paul Harvey now for the rest of the story.

We all have a rest of the story. I have been reminded over and over these past couple of weeks that we all need someone to tell our story to. Even if it is just a piece of it. Sometimes you walk into someone’s life to walk with them through a part of their journey. Sometimes you are there with them for the long haul. What ever it is, be there, be present, listen, care offer to help if you can and of course remind that you love them.

Until next time,

Juli

I stepped up to the challenge, I overcame my fears. I met new people and made a friend. I ran my race. I finished what I knew I could do but the fat girl brain kept telling me that I couldn’t. I set out to run a 5K I figured if I ran at 14 minute miles. I would be happy with my pace. Picture a turtle running through peanut butter. You get the picture.

I started running at age 47, it started as I just want to see what I can do. It transformed into how much further can I go. I have run on and off since then. More often times off. My health has gotten in the way. I have broken an ankle, mourned the loss of my husband and marriage, battled depression and anxiety, and the list goes on.

I have had people say to me that I don’t have to run, walking will serve you just as well. I have been asked if I actually enjoy running. Yes, I do. Why because there is something about running that got in my head. It brings me a since of accomplishment. I like the alone time I get from it but the social time with other runners is an added bonus.

I have a 5k route that I walk or run around my house so I am fairly certain of my miles. Everything seemed longer than what I thought it should be. When I hit their 3 mile mark two things happened. The first oh thank goodness! 1/10 of a mile left. Next thing I know my watch is telling me that I hit 5 miles. I knew I hadn’t walked 2 miles that morning besides it was set for that run.

I just kept running at this point I felt a little bit like “Forest Gump” it was odd . Finally I saw the finish line and my new friend. She came to join me for the last 20 feet and I took my stride and I came down on my right foot and my ankle dislocated.

I got up with the help of the people around me. There was no weight barring on that ankle or leg. I wanted to finish. I hated the idea of not crossing that line.

Someone took my bib and crossed the line for me.

I broke my ankle and shattered my fibula. A trip to the Emergency Center and some talk with friends and that feeling of family. So weird but the paramedics bring me in and my anxiety and frustration went down, I was being taken care of by family. There is nothing better than to hear the nurse or the tech even the doctor say she is one of ours.

My first call was to my sister. She answered her phone with you finished! I responded with I broke my ankle. My sister was 4 hours away. But she was still my call. She did her big sister role well. As always. But there is something about being among people that care about you because they choose to.

This past week has been a week of asking for help. Tears being shed for all the stuff I wanted to do this summer. No biking, no swimming, no trip to Sioux Falls for the Fourth of July, no cabin. When you break your right ankle you don’t drive. My garden is another story, but I will figure out how to take care of it.

So I will re think my summer. I will find my Pollyanna thought process for a new summer. I will figure out how to garden, how to make the most of my summer.

Until next time,

Juli

I did something the other night that some would say is no big deal. For me it is. I signed up a live in person 5k. I have done a few virtual 5k’s but I never took the final step to do a live race.

Some of that has to do with the pandemic, some of it is my own fear. You see in the comfort of my own house, on my treadmill without anyone around I have no problem, I was even doing okay at the gym pre pandemic and pre ankle break.

Put in with a 150 strangers and my fear and anxiety take over. What if I can only run on a treadmill? What if I come in dead last? And really my lists of what if’s goes on.

I want to be able to do this so every so often I ask a friend to join me for a race. We had a couple set up pre pandemic and those went virtual. But if my no judgment friend isn’t available I usually end up passing on the race or take the virtual option.

So, how does an introvert, with a fear of failure, throw in a healthy dose of anxiety and still see’s herself as the fat girl get signed up for this? It started with my virtual running/fitness group and one of the members posted that she had signed up for a local race. Out of curiosity I asked which one because in all honesty I just thought I would go cheer her on.

Let me be clear, I have never met this woman in person, but her posts on the fitness app pulled me to her and I think she had me with pre coffee coffee. Conversation started that night and an hour later I am signed up for the race.

Now, I have hit all my big trigger buttons, introvert, fear of failure, fat girl issues and now meeting someone new. I mean how many cliffs can I jump off in one day? There is no turning back on this one. My best friend knows I am doing this, I’m meeting up with this person at the race and it’s time for a little cliff jumping for me.

The pandemic made it easy for me to stop pushing myself and stay in my comfort zone. It’s time to push the comfort zone limits a little. It’s time to meet this friend in person and it’s time to remind myself that I am not the same person I was 5 years ago.

Until next time,

Juli

I saw an ad this week for a widow’s cruise coming up in the next month. I thought to myself, that would be so awesome for a couple of friends that lost their husbands this past winter. A great way to connect with others going through the similar journeys in life.

There was a post earlier in the month talking about national Widow day. Really there is a day that I never knew existed and really wished I didn’t. When Kip died I heard everything from what does she care they were separated anyways, to it doesn’t matter love is love.

I live a life in the middle I am not a normal widow but I am not a normal divorced person either. Kip and I separated because he had a drug addiction and he had mental health issues and most importantly because Kip wanted a different life, a life that I could not give him being married to him. Kip struggled his whole adult life with being trans-gendered. I finally had to say, I love you as a person, but you need to figure out how you are going to live.

That does not mean that I stopped loving him, I didn’t. In fact for two years after his death I still blamed myself, if I hadn’t of pushed him to make a decision, if I had just continued to accept the life that we were living would he still be alive? No, his drug addiction took its toll on his body, he was 80 lbs and his heart had nothing left to give.

I was left in the middle, I was the grieving wife that had to grieve in silence because so many people didn’t understand what I was walking through because it was a life in the middle. I took back my maiden name, I don’t talk to my father in law, I do talk to Kip’s cousins and Uncles. I had to chose who I shared my story with in the first couple years of Kip’s death because it was hard for people to understand. People understand drug addiction, they understand the abuse. People didn’t understand mental health issues and trans gendered.

I share my story, now because May is mental health month, and Kip struggled his whole life with Mental illness, and that bleed into my life whether I wanted it to or not and Kip’s death created Mental health issues for myself. I will always live in the middle, I will never feel comfortable in a group of traditional widows, but I know that there are people out there who need to hear my story and I will continue to tell it,to tell them they are not alone in the middle.

Until next time,

Juli

It’s been a tough week not going to lie about it.

I had surgery 3.5 weeks ago, I had a hysterectomy and a cyst removed that was wrapped around my bladder. To say that I was relieved 4 days later when I got the message that they got all cancer that was wrapped around my bladder was an understatement. This had been my partner in semi silence since Christmas. Some knew what was happening, most just knew that I was having surgery.

My white blood cell counts were going up and my hemoglobin was going down, it is not the combination that you want. I had the best surgeon for the job. My primary doctor and a couple of friends kept me in the right state of mind. The oncologist was looped in and up to date on me. It helps that he is someone that I have known since high school and used in the past when my iron has tanked on me.

People would ask if I wanted to talk about it and my answer was always the same, It is what is, I can only move forward once we know for sure what we are dealing with. I surrounded myself with people that love me; people that I never have to question if they love me. My dad was my biggest cheerleader, and even though he could not be there for the surgery I knew that he was thinking, and praying for me the whole time. My mom when reminded of what was happening would tell me she loved me. My best friend came and stayed for the first few days after surgery. I have other friends that have taken my panic calls, before and after surgery. and as funny as this will sound to some I have had my furry kids. I am blessed.

I went and saw my primary yesterday, the surgery moved a lot of things around in my body. It turns out in my not only being allergic to myself. I have this really odd ability to feel things that most people will never feel. We noticed it the most when I broke my ankle a couple of years ago, and I was talking to the doctor and asking her if I was supposed to feel the plate and pins in my ankle and she like show me and I could point to every pin and the full length of the plate. I am sure that there is a fabulous medical term for all of this. I bent over on Tuesday and felt the internal stitches pull free. That is a really odd feeling. By the time that I saw my primary yesterday I knew that we had angered my chronic pain with surgery combined with feeling the stitches give way I was in pain. But I also know that there really very little else that they can do for me. This is one of those suck it up deal with it Buttercup moments.

I have named my chronic pain, fictional pain. I think this probably offends most chronic pain people but I had too. Going through the process of being diagnosed with chronic pain is an ordeal, some, actually a lot doctors, say that is all in your head. No it is not, it is real, and it hurts.

Again it was a hard week, the pain was intense. But I was reminded that I am loved and cared for. Some days are physical pain is so intense that we forget the simple things in life.

I get reminded of those things through the people that I surround myself with, through my furry girls, and my family. In case I haven’t said it on here lately. You are loved, and valued, please do not ever forget that, and if you need someone to tell you that, hit me up, I will tell you everyday.

Until next time,

Juli

The girls started barking to alert me that someone was in the street, I looked out the window and there was a UPS truck, I really thought nothing about it and went back to what I was doing. Later that day I went out to grab my mail and saw that UPS had left a package for me. I wasn’t really expecting anything so I wasn’t sure what this was, when I picked it up I saw it was for one of my charity races that I had signed up for but they where running behind sending out their “swag.”

I have three 5k’s this year that will benefit children’s hospital. My love for this has built over time. It started with me joining a fitness group during 2020 to keep myself moving when the gym was not an option. I started doing “races” virtually in October because honestly I loved the medal and the Witches of Salem always interested me. These races are not all 5k’s in fact many of them are odd mileage’s. I finished the witches one and next one they offered was Frankenstein and I signed up for that one because I enjoyed the fitness group and I was enjoying what I was seeing and learning along the way.

On Thanksgiving I did my first 10k in over two years, my timing was horrible, but I had run a 10k; something I was sure was never going to happen again after I broke my ankle. I cried happy tears as I entered my time. Yes, this was all still virtual but it didn’t matter. What mattered is that I ran a 10k on a treadmill in my living room watching TV on an ankle I was sure would never make it more than 2 miles at any given time.

A lot of this as become a mind game so to speak, oh I have made it 2.25 I can make it to 2.5 from 2.5 you tell yourself you can make it to 3.11 for that 5k. I tell myself all the time that my time doesn’t matter, what matters is that I am doing it. I am doing something that I oddly enough enjoy and I always feel better after I run.

This can apply to so many things in our lives, what do we do so that we feel better mentally and physically? So many times we find ourselves struggling with balance for our lives that we end up sacrificing those things that make us feel better about ourselves. It’s hard, society says we need to look a certain way, do certain things, be certain people to be successful. Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, we are successful navigating through this life?

I was talking to my dad a few weeks back and he said we have so many things to look forward to, and I was like okay, like what? and he starts talking about the little things in life that we forget about in our busy lives, that I started to laugh and then I realized that after open heart surgery, you celebrate the little things in life.

I celebrated that first 5k and I celebrated my first 10k post ankle break, and this summer as I am putting in my miles I will be celebrating the fact that I get to do this for me. Life has not been easy, it was never promised to be, but if you do not celebrate the small stuff and call each day a success you just make it so much harder on yourself.

Until next time,

Juli

I was sitting here and the alert on my phone went off. It was to remind me that we are under a curfew tonight, to stop or at least slow down the protesting of another person being killed by a police officer.

This has become an epidemic in our world. Both the killing and the protesting. It’s okay to protest and to say what is happening is unjust and unhealthy for us as a society. But when protesting leads to destroying have we lost sight of what message we are trying to convey?

I think I am more worried about the killing in our society than I am about protesting. Have we decided that life has so little value that we feel it is okay to take away someone else’s life? When did this become the norm? Does this make people any better than the person that just lost their life? NO! all it does is create more hurt and hatred and we don’t need that.

For me, it was Uncles, for others it was Fathers and still others it was Sons that fought in WWII against the hatred of the Jewish people in Europe, all it took was one person with that hatred to start that spread and it spread like a wildfire out of fear. You joined with the haters or you were prosecuted like the Jewish people. Horrible choice. Hate or be hated.

I would have thought that we learned from these stories of people hiding in the woods, hiding in churches, hiding in attics so as not to be killed for no reason other than their beliefs. But here we are 80 years later, and we are still hating each other. Let’s take that a step further and we are still fighting a Civil war based on the color of skin. STOP! The color of your skin, your belief, your sexual preference, is not a reason for hatred, for killing, it is a reason to love you.

We need to learn to embrace our differences, love those that are different than us, not fear them. I would hope that if we have learned anything from our past it is that fear is liar and it clouds our judgement.

Please know that I am always a safe place, I do not judge based on the color of your skin, your sexual preferences, or your beliefs. I will listen, I will help where I can, I will hug you and cry with you and most of all I will love you.

Until Next time.

Juli

What do you look forward to? That first cup of coffee in the morning? The changing of the seasons? Christmas morning? your birthday? Maybe you were always that person that looked forward to the first day of school.

Whatever it is that you look forward to, how does that make you feel? Are you excited, nervous, or is it just another day for you? Some times it depends on what it is, that morning cup of coffee, or Diet Coke or whatever it is that gets you going in the morning. It can be something to look forward to, it can get out of bed and moving. I don’t know a lot people that don’t look forward to their birthday. They might not fully embrace the number but they generally embrace celebrating with friends and family.

Kids remind us that holidays like Halloween, Christmas, Easter and 4th of July are all things to look forward to. It is time with family, and friends and a time to celebrate. A time to have fun.

So what do you do when times are tough? When it feels like there isn’t anything to look forward, I think that is when we have to start looking for the little things to look forward to. Maybe it is walk on sunny day, or favorite meal. Life can be hard, it throws punches at us and we have to fight back.

How we fight back is a choice, we can choose to lay down and say that we have been defeated or we can find things to look forward to each day and choose to fight back at it.

That’s the thing, if we start looking forward to the small things, soon we are looking forward to larger things and thinking less about the things that were bringing us down. Don’t get me wrong, there are still going to be hard days, they are not going away, but when you focus on what you are looking forward to it makes those days a little bit better.

Until next time,

Juli

What do you do to relax? Listen to music? Watch TV? Read a book? Go for a walk/run/hike? Craft? Build things? All of these things can help us relax.

Over the past couple of weeks I keep being reminded to take care of myself to take time for myself. For me caring for myself looks a little different than it does for others. For me caring for myself is caring and listening powerfully to the other people in my life.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my music and books and spending time crafting. I even love a good run and all of those things help me forget about my day for a time. But really what refills me is caring for my friends and family.

I sometimes I think that I am wired odd. Most people find listening to others as draining. I don’t. I want to hear what is on your heart, what you are struggling with. I may not have the answer but I have the ability to listen, to allow you to feel heard.

I think that we have lost are ability to listen. Just as we have lost are ability to relax. We need these things in our lives to succeed. We need to take care of ourselves and others. Remember to tell people that you love them.

Until next time,

Juli

Hope is a word that we use often. I hope you have had good time. I hope I have answered your questions. I hope we can get together soon.

In fact when you start typing this phrase, I hope… your auto fill on your phone will continue with certain variations of these statements.

Hope is one of those things that we rely upon. We need hope. We need it, plan and simple.

But hope is a word that we take for granted. We hear the word, we say it. But what does it mean.

I think Webster’s dictionary probably has a definition of the word. In fact I am sure it does. But what does hope mean to you.

I have been thinking about this a lot lately. Especially as I hear people saying I hope that we can get together soon. A year ago, a lot of us packed our desks, said hope to see you soon to our co worker’s and even in some cases family.

2020 was the year of hope. We hoped for an end to Covid. To quarantine. To the fighting.

But how do you bring hope into this world? You live in such a way that people smile after you walk away. Listen to them. Really listen, hear what they are saying and not saying. Sometimes that provides more hope than anything else.

Hope is really about making this world a better place and experience for the other people that we encounter every day. Maybe this week you will be able to provide that hope to others.

Until next time,

Juli