My 16 Year Old Self and A-Holes

Untitled**Yeah, I don’t know why I took it, but glad I did because there are NO other photos for this post. I have no photos of my 16 year self and assholes**

I cried while running today…

Well there were tears randomly throughout, and then around mile 4, 15 seconds of sobbing.

I’m crazy. <— Thats just how I feel. The past couple of days Ive had my earplugs in again (muffling the world me). All I am worrying about is not having got in my workouts to the fullest, or keeping up with the kids, or… or…

Total zombie mode. I knew it was bad this morning. While taking the kids to school, I knew I would need to make a phone call to someone to get me calm. I need to TALK to someone other than kids. But once I started talking I knew I would break down. Surprisingly one of the people on my go-to call list needed to Skype with me (Thanks Coach Jeff, and nice seeing you, Rick!). We went over a new training platform, and talked about the upcoming months, and slightly about my sanity.

Once the Skype call was over I felt, OK. Not great, just ok. Received an email from Mark, which was nice, it had attached to it a little “honey-do list”. First thing was dropping off paper work to our housing office because we got a home on base (yay! Kinda a big deal!). This means breaking a lease, but Florida state law dictates that if you are eligible or opt in to move into government housing, the lease can be broken.

So after being sent to the managers office, sat down and explained that I would be be putting in a 30 days notice, and handed over appropriate paperwork, the manager jumped up, hurried to his file cabinet and said “According to OUR leasing agreement, you CANT do that”.

Lets stop here, remember I am just kinda in the dumps, I really don’t know what is wrong with me, I am sad, I have a list (like 2 people) of people waiting to be called because I am about to have a full blown panic attack…. Then this guy says that I CANT do something. Well I flipped the switch to my humanity (total Vampire Diaries line, get with the program), and nearly lost my shit.

Don’t worry I kept calm, but I was boiling inside. I had kindly brought in my paperwork, and even a copy of the STATE law, I thought it could have been a smooth process. Then this guy wants to tell me I signed a contract saying that I could not do something. Why do you want to fight?

Apparently they might have updated their leasing agreement stating these terms, but MY agreement says other wise. He even dug up a copy of my lease and said these things (like I would NOT be getting out of my agreement):
1.” He HAS to be active duty” <—- “He IS active duty”.
2. ” Well then he has to be deployed with a military unit for 90 days or more” <—- “He IS leaving me for 9 MONTHS.”
3. “You have to be eligible or opt in to an military agreement if housing was issued” <—-“THIS is what THIS paper states

He still made it seem like it wasn’t going to happen and that my paperwork was insufficient. I said I would call the military housing , and bring in “proper” paperwork. Thank you.

By the time I got home, I walked in, I starting tearing up. I felt as though I was pushed into a corner, that someone was going to snag our happy dream of getting a home on base away because this guy didn’t want to abide by the law. Confused I made the proper phone calls, was told the paper work I was given WAS the paperwork needed, and that those people were probably pushing me around. <—- I was being pushed around.

After the phone calls, I was so overwhelmed. Not sure what to do, and I just cant call Mark up and ask him what we should do next. So I thought, I’ll call Lisa, but I was scared I would start sobbing, not make any sense, and then the phone call would be useless (normally I would Facebook message, but I needed to TALK), so then with tears in my eyes, I pulled up my moms phone number and called her.

You know, I kinda try and sound tough “Hey whats up!” “Ah nothing here I–” <– cut short by me saying “You won’t believe this asshole over here telling me I CANT DO SOMETHING” (all tough). Then crying “MOM! I am losing my shit here, I am going crazy I am so sad, that guy was the last string, I am having a panic attack (at this point my throat started to tighten up, so I was REALLY having an attack), AHH MY THROAT! AHHH **insert choking/crying sounds** AH! MOM! AH!” <—As I sit here, I am laughing my ass off because I have to picture my self here, in my running clothes, visor on, big cry baby face, 29 years old, crying to my mom, then grabbing my throat as if someone is choking me, all the while I still have the phone against my ear, LOL, ah, its funny NOW… Thought I was gonna die 2 hours ago.

In the end my mom calmed me down, agreed the guy was an asshole (sometimes you need someone just to agree that “yes, that person is an asshole”), and that in the end you cant break STATE law and everything would be fine.

Then she said, “Do you need to run?” <— I had actually been getting ready to run, I already knew that I NEEDED to. Not because its on my schedule (because it isn’t) but because its while running that I find myself. Its running that brings Christina back to center, tells her toughen up, and things will be fine.

Its not the first time that with tears in my eyes, or to battle tears coming on that I turned to running to help me…

You know everyone shares their “Why I started running” stories or “What made me decide to do a triathlon”, and … They all sound the same to me. They all sound happy. They did it for someone else. They battled cancer. They lost weight. I ran because I needed to hide from things at home…

Normally I tell people I started running when I met Mark, so we both had something to do together, but truthfully I started running when I was 16. I lived in a state of anxiety and fear when I was younger. I was confused, I was scared. “Normal” wasn’t a word used to describe how I grew up. The biggest drive for my mom, was for me to play softball, but I hated it. I used it as an excuse though to NOT be home. To be doing something, to get the endorphins going so I was in SOME state of happy, though I hated it all the same. So I would say I was going “running” to be let out of the house, and I did go run, but not for the workout to keep me in shape for softball, but so I could be out of the house, then run HARD and feel the burn and hope it take the sad away. I didn’t look at running as RUNNING, it was an escape, this is what my mind and body wanted to do, I wanted to run away.

I always ran the same route, and I would always cry. I actually had designated cry zones, I knew the tears would come, but I cant be flying down Foothill Blvd (big street) with tears in my eyes. I would have hot tears while running by my middle school. It’s here in the cry zone that I would imagine my future self running with me, she would come because I needed reassurance that things WOULD be better, that I would be happy one day, I imagined my future self because she is the only person I trusted. Deep down I knew I would grow up one day and be out of this mess, so I needed to imagine I would be happy one day. Hell I imagined her telling me jokes, she was so strong and laugh things off, most important she promised me things would be o.k. . By the time I got up to Foothill I’d wipe the tears away then run as hard as I could to my first street where I would run up to Hillcrest.

I chose my route based on memories that made me happy, and by peoples houses that were “normal” and had let me in and let me experience what a normal family was like. It was up in the foothills that I ran away from my problems, and was just happy running up a damn hill. I also chose these streets because I felt safe knowing that the next block held someone I knew so if something was wrong, I had a house to run to.

First street was the street of the boy who was my first kiss, I would always run by his house so embarrassed, and just think how funny the whole situation was. Once I got to the top of the hill I would make a right, this street was always cooler, I don’t know if it was because I wasn’t running up hill anymore, or that it had a breeze, but it was the favorite part of my run. Beautiful “homey” houses, and I would name everyone I knew that lived either down or up the intersecting streets.

My half way point was was a big white house that lived a family that forever will be in my heart for so many reasons. It was always a warm and inviting place, so it was a happy mid-way point, “my half-way happy”. I continue on to Ivy (name of street), its here I would stop and stand in the middle of the street and look down into the  valley. It was so beautiful right there. No matter how unhappy I had been, by this time, I had no clue why I started running, and would just stare at the lights below. I walked down the most part of Ivy, it was a little steep and just killed my knees, plus I was always scared I would trip and break my ankle, then my mom would kill me. Also I loved the houses. I loved looking into the homes of “normal” people with “nice” things, people that seemed “happy”. Every other run I would choose a different house I would live in….

Coming back down into where I lived I slowly brought myself to reality. Back to the real world where the endorphins were rushing through me leaving me feel strong, and mentally ready to tackle whatever was to come. I always sprinted the last block home. It was thrilling, even now I remember the feeling, the smell, the sweat on my forehead, my ponytail …

Thats how it started, my happy place. Coach Jeff would always say, “You hate running”, no not true. Running is so much more to me than a sport, its my life, its my peace.

So yes, mom. I did need a run, and I happily ran my heart out on my treadmill. WAAAY harder than I should have but I needed it, who gives a shit about heart rate, I ran to where I needed to feel a little burn, its that burn that makes things better. It “burns” out the crazy.

Ya know, people always comment or ask : “how can you run on a treadmill?“.  I normally say something like its good mental training and allergies get to me (which they do), but in reality I dont run on a treadmill, I run the streets I grew up on with a 16 year girl who didn’t know who she was. I tell her jokes, give her strenghth, and reassure her that things will be better. ” Chris, you will be stronger, you will be loved, I promise God has so much in store for you, but let’s run faster because I love this hill…”


4 thoughts on “My 16 Year Old Self and A-Holes

  1. Jonathan Magee

    Awesome. We all run for different reasons. Mine started young around 15 for similar reasons. To relieve stress and gain control. I am 56 years old and still to this day I run for the same reason. Great blog.


  2. Mabel benson

    Reading this makes me feel like maybe I need to start running. For similar reasons. I just don’t ever feel like I have the time. I don’t know how you squeeze it all in. Your absolutely amazing!



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