I've always gone up and down with my fitness levels. Sometimes I won't work out for a few weeks, and then I start back training for a race. Post-race I'll take a few weeks off, then I struggle to get back to that level of fitness. My health has been a cyclical thing for a while; I work out less when I'm extrememly happy in my personal life because I want to spend the majority of my time with family and friends. When I'm unhappy or irritated with people, I work out more because I use that time to be alone. I had always thought that my life would follow that pattern forever. Not so.
29 April I received a call that my most recent ex-boyfriend was in the hospital following a car accident. Carly called me. "It's pretty bad. I think you'd better come home." Within an hour, I had tickets booked and my bag was packed. I had been in contact with my mom and she was going to pick me up at LGA and bring me right to the hospital. She called right before I headed to the airport. I thought she was checking in to make sure I had a ride and I wouldn't be driving. I rambled on about my suitcase and my ride for minutes before I realized she wasn't responding. "Honey, he's gone." Those word knocked the wind out of me. I had so much I had left to say to him. He had made me happy for years and then made me so mad. How would I never be able to get clarification on so many things? How was I going to have to live the rest of my life with uncertainty. He thought we were going to get back together; now I would never know. People in my life were confident that he was my true match in life. I would never get the chance to explore that. I would never get to text him another car question or have him send me a text with a picture of some gross meat concoction (knowing full well I don't eat meat anymore.) He was someone who was closest to me for three and a half years; now there is no one who knows that August 2007-February 2011 part of my life. It's hard not to believe you've missed your chance when people treat you like a widow and you're hurting so, so much.
The two months after the accident and funeral were the worst of my life. I was unable to focus on anything but the immediate pain in my life. Then I met Joel. I had no intention of looking for someone when I was so broken. I was barely making it to work on time and my hair was not looking good. I was hanging out with girlfriends but I had a morbid sense of humor and no one could relate to me. My girlfriend Angela had flown in from Texas because she was worried about me and we decided to make our way to the bar that Friday night. I hadn't been to the bar since before the accident and I was not sure I was prepared for binge drinking, sloppy dancing, and men. Lots of men who would hit on me and remind me all over again that I had an uncertain future. I remember standing at the bar as my girlfriends took Jello shots. I was pouting and watching some SC baseball on the tv behind the bar. Mckinlaye tapped me on the shoulder. "Lauren, this is Joel."
I can't believe that one night changed my entire life. It was exactly 8 weeks after the accident and I still wasn't sure who I was or in what I believed. Instead of hitting on me, we talked about baseball, our families, education. [If you've ever been to the Woody, you know how hard it is to talk in there!] I will admit that I did break out some of the signature Lauren dance moves, but I would like to think that taking months off of drinking contributed to that. Not my finest, but Joel wanted to hang out the next day. And that night. And all Sunday. We went on our first solo date that Tuesday. (Remember that Angela had been with us the entire weekend.) At the end of that date, I knew. I knew he was special and wonderful and that he would be the one to bring me back . He knew nothing of the accident so he wasn't treating me with kidgloves. He actually is so caring and thoughtful and loving because that's who he is. By Sunday evening, Angela was already talking about our future wedding. It wasn't infatuation or lust or anything superficial; this was a deeper understanding that someone brought him to me because he's everything I've ever wanted. I wasn't ready for him months ago. I was on 22 June 2012.
Joel and I
Now that I finally have my emotional health back on track, it's time to focus on my physical health. In the past 4.5 months, I've done no running and have eaten way too many grilled cheeses. (If you want to know how many grilled cheeses are too many, consider that I'm lactose intolerant. Ouch.)
So I signed up for the Disney Princess Half Marathon with my girlfriend Alex. Mentally, we are SO ready for this! Physically, she's a little ready. Me? I'm a disaster. I'm in my second week of half marathon training and two miles hurts. It hurts so much that sometimes I want to believe that I'm having a heart attack rather than I'm just so out of shape. But I put on my sneakers, turn on that treadmill, and keep moving. Sometimes I move slow (6.0mph) and sometimes I move fast. (7.0mph) Sometimes I revert to a speed workout (30 on, 30 off) and sometimes I try to run the whole way through. Nothing is working, but every day I can go a little bit longer without that Please-God-Let-Me-Break-My-Leg-So-I-Can-Stop-Running feeling. I'm drinking a lot of water and no soda. I'm eating a lot better than I was before. I know these are helping, but I can't wait until I'm back where I was pre-accident. Get ready! Here I come!
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