sometimes i can be serious

state of the blog-ion

by ameena on March 17, 2013

in 2013, blogging about blogging, real talk

This weekend I had some real talk with myself over this whole blogging situation. When I made it my one and only New Year’s Resolution to blog every day in 2013 I didn’t really give myself a whole lot of parameters on what I wanted that to look like – other than, you know, blogging every day. We are now 76 days (?!) in to this year two thousand and thirteen, and I am already very pleased with my goal so far. These past two and a half months have been so good for my creativity.

But I feel it is time to kick it up a notch.

These first few months of 2013 have largely been about finding myself – not only on this blog but in all aspects of my life. I was at one of the lowest points in my life when the clock struck midnight 76 days ago, and I have spent the time since then focusing on rediscovering my center. Now that I am finally in a good place, it is time to start dreaming big once more.

As far as this here blog goes, that means digging deeper. I fear I have gotten rather lazy with my writing these days and I don’t like it. I know I am capable of so much more but there is a wall of fear in my way. I am holding myself back and I don’t know why, but I am determined to figure it out.

So I spent this weekend at the drawing board. And this post is a promise to myself to keep digging.

becoming an endurance athlete, taking you all with me, and saying goodbye to unemployment (!!!)

by ameena on March 3, 2013 · 4 comments

in so you say you're a runner

Twenty months ago I let the internet trick me in to signing up for my first half marathon. On my very first day of training I couldn’t even run the required one minute without wanting to break down and cry. In fact, I’m pretty sure I did cry. Prior to my training there was only a single time in my entire life that I had run an entire mile without stopping – and that was when I was 12. The thought of running thirteen times that was almost too much to handle. There were so many moments during my four months of training that I thought about quitting. I would spend half of my runs thinking about ways I could gently break it to the internet that I had decided to say “No thank you,” to running and “Yes please!” to couch potato-ing.

It wasn’t until I hit about the two month mark that I really started to accept that maybe my goal of going from 0 to half-marathon in four months wasn’t the craziest idea I’d ever had (although it still is pretty close). I had finally passed the point of achy knees and devilish side cramps and was endlessly impressed by how quickly my fitness levels had improved in the short time since I had committed to this crazy dream. Why, those days of barely being able to run 30 seconds already seemed like a distant memory. Four months after I could barely run a minute without tears, I crossed the finish line of my first half marathon.

I think a lot about where I was twenty months ago and where I am today. It never ceases to amaze me that showing up day after day determined to do my best means that my best keeps getting better. And that’s the most important thing that running has taught me – big changes are the result of baby steps. The baby steps that have led me to leading a healthier, more active lifestyle have completely revolutionized my life and greatly contributed to my happiness overall. In reflecting on my transformation in to an endurance athlete I have come to realize that what makes me the happiest is inspiring others to lead healthier, more active lives as well. I find that I want to spend more and more of my time telling everyone I meet that if I can go from 30 second runs to half marathons to (hopefully!) soon-to-be marathons, then I truly believe that anyone can do it, too. And I want to help them get there.

All of this is exactly why I am just so darn over-the-freaking-moon excited to announce that this past week I secured not only one, but two jobs in the health and fitness industry. First of all I just want to say: what is this life?? I realize that I am the most blessed and eternally grateful for the opportunities ahead of me. Never in a million years did I think I would have made something like this happen, but hey, never in a million years did I think I would run half marathon – I’m full of surprises! I feel like I should probably spend some time apologizing to all of the people who tirelessly told me that everything would work out in the end, while dodging whatever I tried to throw at them in denial. So, thank you. Seriously.

Now I am off to enjoy the rest of my last day as an unemployed woman. Breaking Bad marathon here I come (I’m definitely going to miss my Netflix time).

previous posts on running:

happy runnerversary to me!

so you say you’re running a half marathon II

so you say you’re running a half marathon part the third

on giving up and learning to forgive myself

by ameena on May 10, 2012 · 7 comments

in plight of the twenty-something, real talk

A little over a month ago I gave up. Straight up quit everything. I was all, “See you later all of the amazing changes that have been making me feel great! I’m gonna go feel like shit instead!” And I quit. I said goodbye to my healthy eating habits and my half-marathon training schedule. I abandoned my goals for 2012 and promptly forgot about my you-are-moving-to-Florida-so-be-responsible-with-your-money budget. I chose sleeping in over going to class and to top it all off I decided to start drinking again.

I became really great at spending a lot of time in bed and hating myself. In fact, “I felt like shit” doesn’t even begin to adequately describe how terrible I felt. I was just so angry and frustrated with my inability to do the things that made me feel so good. If you didn’t know, I’m really great at the self-loathing guilt trip.

One day I decided my pity party needed some company so I called my mom. I tried my hardest to keep myself composed but I think it took all of ten seconds before I started crying. We’re talking major ugly tears, snot all over my face, fucking bawling. And I just sprung it on her out of nowhere! Luckily, that mother of mine is a treasure because she was able to promptly talk me down from the ledge. Two hours later I found myself taking a crafternoon and watching Friends – guilt free. Clearly, it was time for the baby steps.

And that’s when I realized it was okay to quit. I gave myself permission to put the Joy Equation on hold and to eat whatever the hell I felt like. I told myself it was time to take a break from writing and that if I didn’t make it out for a run every single day it would be okay. I promised myself I would not allow any of the guilty feelings for giving up because I also promised myself it would all be temporary.

You see, I was trying to change so much all at once and it was starting to do things to my brain. And on top of that I was stuck in the middle of a particularly challenging semester and trying to focus on graduating. So I chose one thing and prioritized it.

Earning my college degree seemed like a good place to start. I refused to let myself feel any guilt for the millions of late-night peanut butter cups consumed or the fact that I wasn’t running as regularly as I should have been. I did whatever it took to get myself through one final semester. I still felt like shit. But it seemed more bearable because I had eliminated the guilt.

Except there was one tiny, little problem I hadn’t really foreseen. My temporary solution was exactly that – a quick sweep under the rug. Because all of this is exactly how I found myself on the night of graduation standing in the middle of my messy, neglected room, slightly intoxicated, less than eight hours from my flight to San Francisco, and freaking the fuck out. The thing about sweeping your anxiety under the rug until after finals are over is that as soon you are done the anxiety is kind of still there waiting for you. Suddenly, the thought of getting on an airplane and running 13.1 miles was the actual most overwhelming thing in the world and I realized I just couldn’t do it.

While I am so sad that I missed the opportunity to meet some new blogger friends and catch up with others in San Francisco this past weekend, I know that I made the right choice by staying home. I was also reminded of the overwhelming kindness and generosity of you mighty fine people of the internet. Seriously, thank you.

I am really so grateful for this week as an opportunity to focus on settling back in to my old routine. Baby steps are nice.

{image found here}

this day was written and directed by the sads. but don’t worry, it was produced by hyperbole.

by ameena on February 14, 2012 · 1 comment

in plight of the twenty-something, real talk

Today was a particularly awful day. One of those no-good, dirty-rotten, can I please have a do-over sort of days. A day I would have much rather spent in bed buried under the covers not thinking about all of the things threatening to break me. Today the Sads were in the director’s chair.

Blast those pesky sads!

But before I tell you all about this rotten day I feel I ought to inform you that it had absolutely nothing to do with today being Valentine’s Day. Except that maybe I was made all the more sad that the Sads were ruining it. Because did you know I rather like Valentine’s Day? I mean, what is there to hate about a day all about loooove??

In fact, it dawned on me earlier today that of my twenty-three Valentine’s Days, I have been single for twenty-two of them. And the one year I was actually in a relationship during Valentine’s Day, I wrote an embarrassingly angry post all about how much I loathed the holiday. It was entirely unbecoming of a romantic like myself. And I did it all because my boyfriend at the time didn’t possess a single romantic bone in his body and I was so afraid of being disappointed that I convinced myself that the holiday was dumb. The tragedy!

Where was I?

Oh, right.

The Sads.

Except this isn’t even really a post about the Sads. And it definitely isn’t a post about Valentine’s Day. I’m not entirely sure what kind of post it is. I think maybe it is a post about hope.

This afternoon as I was sitting at work trying with all of my might to quell the incoming tears, my coworker smiled at me. I don’t think he had any clue of the turmoil going on inside my head, but it was the exact right kind of smile at the exact right kind of moment and suddenly I found that all of my overwhelming sadness seemed like a manageable burden to bear.

In an instant I felt the fog begin to lift. I was suddenly able to think much clearer and face my sadness full on. I finally realized that for months my frequent run-ins with the Sads have pretty much all been sparked by the same things. And while I am far too afraid to write about these things today, I’m really happy to have fully acknowledged them. I mean, how can I ever be expected to come up with awesome solutions if I never even knew the problem?

I think what this whole rambling, overly dramatic post is trying to say is that even though it might take only one sentence to throw me in to the Sads, it also just takes a simple smile to help me back out.

It’s rather nice to remember that.

overboard

by ameena on February 12, 2012

in plight of the twenty-something, real talk

It is a never ending curiosity unto me how it sometimes only takes one seemingly innocent sentence to toss me head over heels in to the tumultuous waters of the sads. It just seems too easy that my mind can go from obsessively tracking all my reasons to smile to instead obsessively tracking all of the reasons I should probably not cry in public. Once I have been thrown overboard, I find that I am always on the verge of tears, I slowly begin to push people away, my bed once again becomes my dearest friend, and I stop doing the thing I am supposed to be doing. And all it took was one sentence.

It’s never really about the sentence, though (that would be far too obvious, and I am much too complex of a lady for such nonsense). The sentence is just the trigger. It exposes the insecurities and uncertainties that are hiding beneath the surface. I always have to remind myself that the utterer of the phrase had no idea that his or her actions launched such turmoil upon my soul. That I was already showing warning signs for weeks prior to the comment. That if it hadn’t been that comment, it would have been another.

So this week when someone told me that I was being passive agressive for telling them I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life I tried with all of my might to not take it too personally. I tried to convince myself that his incessant questions regarding my future plans were in no way questioning my intelligence or success as a human being. I tried to remind myself that I already know it is okay to not know, and that he didn’t really mean anything by his comment.

But it was too late. So overboard I went.

on what i want (at the moment)

by ameena on January 22, 2012 · 10 comments

in favorite posts, plight of the twenty-something, real talk

{image via tumblr}

Today I found myself sitting at my kitchen table with a cup of tea cradled preciously in my hands as I stared at the rain falling against the window. Doesn’t that just sound terribly existential and entirely romantic? But also, it honestly could be that I have officially turned my life in to one giant eye-rolling cliche. Who knows. Either way, it is a definite sign that I’ve got my contemplative pants on.

As you probably know, I am currently at a point where there is a big, fat question mark hovering over my six-month-from-now life. I can see it there way off in the distance, quickly approaching and honestly it’s really starting to freak me the fuck out. Whenever people find out that I am going to be graduating at the end of this semester they get all excited and start asking me a million questions. They’re all like, “Ooooh! So what happens next? Are you going to stay in Utah? Have you thought about grad school? What about internships? What do you even do with a Biology degree? What is your life plan? Ameena, WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE?!” And then I just feel like a real moron and I quietly whisper “I don’t know” while simultaneously trying to resist the urge to apologize for being a failure.

But that’s the thing – I know I’m not a failure. And I totally get that it’s okay to not have your shit figured out at the age of twenty-two. But that still doesn’t make it any less frustrating to not have a clue. Like, how can I have been alive for twenty-two years and have no clue? What have I been doing? And I know that I’ve written about this before, but I’m still struggling with it. I like plans. and lists. and security. Just writing this all out is making my palms sweaty and my left eye twitchy. In situations like this where I am overwhelmed by all the answers I don’t have, I like to look at what I do know and go from there.

what I want (at the moment):

I want to experience life without school for the first time in seventeen years. I want to celebrate and enjoy being in my twenties. I want to continue to grow mentally, physically, and spiritually.

I want to become a better writer. I want to start by living a life worth writing about. I want to use my positivity and passion for life to help others. I want to find a way to contribute more to the online community because of all that it has done for me.

I want to experience life living outside of Utah. I want to live in New York City and Boston and Chicago and San Diego and maybe even Los Angeles. I want a cozy little apartment in the sky. One with city streets for a backyard and mountainous skylines outside my bedroom window. A place to call my own. Where I am responsible for me; party of one.

I want to learn to be okay with solitude and to feel more comfortable in large groups. I want to be a better friend. To surround myself with like-minded, encouraging people and to stop wasting energy on people who break me down.

I want to keep travelling. I want to run twenty-six point two miles through Chicago and Athens and maybe even eventually Boston. I want to backpack Europe with Pham and Ashley so that we can celebrate our year of #castlesbeerandtattoos.

I want to develop a better relationship with food and my body; to stop shoving so much toxic nonsense down my throat. I want to learn to enjoy and savor what I eat. To take more steps toward an entirely plant-based diet; for both my own well-being and that of the planet. I want to become more environmentally aware and to teach others about the importance of conservation. I want to work for our oceans and forests.

I want to be the kind of girl who wears red lipstick, but who isn’t afraid to laugh at herself when it ends up all over her teeth. I want to be taken seriously as a woman who is a fan of sports. I want to eliminate self-doubt and spend more time dancing in my underwear.

I want to find intense, passionate love. The kind of love that radiates throughout my entire body. I want to find someone who shares my understanding that love isn’t perfect and who is willing to fight along side me to make it work.

I want to live a life unrestrained by my inhibitions and anxiety. To always remain honest to myself by spending less time trying to be someone I am not and more time perfecting the superstar that I am. And most importantly, above all, I never want to forget that happiness is the key to life.

***

Maybe next time somebody asks me what I want to do with my life I’ll start with all of that.

i am okay, y’all

by ameena on December 30, 2011 · 3 comments

in matters of the heart, real talk, reasons to smile

My ex broke up with his girlfriend.

You know, the one he left me for. Twice. The same ex that took me over nine months to finally “get over”. Yeahhh, that ex. That girlfriend. Upon hearing this I was really surprised at how unaffected I was by the news. I mean, this is a moment that I spent many a month dreaming about. Praying for even. I always thought I would be happy. Jump up and down. I’d be all, “High fives for everyone!” Everything would feel right in the universe. But instead I just felt sad for them. Not sad sad, but rather the kind of sad you feel whenever you hear about a breakup. That’s a really great feeling, you know – realizing just how far you’ve come.

Sure, I haven’t been in a relationship since this last one ended. And yeah, I still feel lonely more often than I sometimes like to admit. But I really feel like I have started to figure my shit out. That relationship was stunting my emotional and mental growth and it wasn’t until I was out of it that I learned exactly how to become my own person. A person that I am very proud of most days. A person I never would have known had I stayed in that relationship. But also someone who couldn’t exist had it never happened. I really like that I can appreciate that and not get upset. These are good feelings. After wishing it for so long - I am okay.

And that’s really why I almost didn’t write this post. Because sometimes it feels silly to write about nothing. But then this probably isn’t really nothing after all. (In fact, it’s a really big something. YOU GUYS I AM OKAY.)

The only annoying part about the whole thing is that I have already had at least four people make the too easy (in my opinion) joke asking if I had called him yet/did he spend the night/when were we getting back together. Oh, hahaha, those friends of mine – always the jokesters.

(My answers: no, no and hell no.)
(just in case you were worried.) 

the worst kind of house guest

by ameena on November 29, 2011 · 2 comments

in real talk

I have to tell you something. I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it for a couple of days now but I can’t seem to find the words. Type type type. Delete delete delete. So I’m just going to say it – I’m sad. Really sad. Secretly sad.

Every so often I am overcome with a debilitating wave of sadness. Except it isn’t really like any wave I have ever seen. This isn’t a sadness that washes over me and then is gone the way it came. This sadness mostly creeps. I feel it start in my chest and steadily spread it’s way through my body and limbs. Once it has finished creeping, it usually settles down to stay for quite some time. Far longer than any sadness ought to be allowed to visit, if you ask me. But sadness has never really been the most welcome of house guests.

While I haven’t been completely engulfed in the sadness yet, I can already feel it spreading in my chest. The all too familiar feeling. Slowly creeping. Over the course of the weekend I have watched helplessly as all the energy and enthusiasm is drained from me. This particular sadness is one that prefers to remain under the surface, making itself known only in my solitude. But soon enough it will begin to show itself as it craves the attention of center stage. I’ve already started spending far too much of my time in bed eating chocolate, you know, just as a precautionary measure. But also, what else can one do?

Since I know that I am incapable of fighting the sadness at the moment, I have been trying to figuring it out. But I can’t seem to do it. I suspect maybe my recent sickness and some pre-finals anxiety with a dash of loneliness. Maybe sprinkle in some unhealthy jealousies and a slice of uncertainty and we just might be on to something. And because we’re being honest, I say we just heap on a whole lotta loneliness. Oh wait, now we’re on to something.

I know that it will soon pass, just as it always does, but I still hate it. I hate that it has no clear reason to be here. I hate that I tried so hard to keep it out and I still lost. And I really hate that it had to arrive just in time for finals. That’s another thing about the sadness, it never warns you regarding its arrival.

Terrible house guest, indeed.

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