Guilty.

I really struggle with guilt. Things I did years ago still bother me, still make me feel like a horrible person. I try to reconcile that I've grown up, that I'm different, and that really, I AM a good person.

But I still feel like I'm just not good enough. Your classic INFP, I have very idealistic expectations of myself and the world. While I'm usually very forgiving of the shortcomings of others, I have a hard time extending this forgiveness to myself. I feel badly, I want to let things go and sometimes I'm very good at it, but every now and then, it is almost crippling how badly I feel about my own shortcomings.

I have a pretty strict code of right and wrong and a guilty conscience that goes with it. I often struggle with the notion that I can be a very good person without being perfect. I expect a lot of myself and I don't always know how to reconcile this.

Last night I was reading a Joyce Meyer book and she briefly discussed learning to accept ourselves as God accepts us - knowing full well that our flaws are present, but loving us in spite of them. God doesn't approve of our sin, our transgressions but he loves us all the same. It seems like such a simple concept, to be able to separate a person from their actions, but for me, it's hard to do with myself.

As I grow, I'm learning that things don't have to be perfect to be satisfying and fulfilling. My job is not perfect - yet there are stretches of time where things fall into place easily, I tap into my creativity and feel a sense of purpose to what I'm doing. My relationship with Alex isn't perfect either - it's wonderful, but there's no such thing as perfect in my book since he and I are both human beings. But it's still great - he makes me laugh, he makes me think, he makes me feel loved and special. My friends sure aren't perfect, but they love me and I love them.

I'm learning to let go of these perfectionistic expectations, but sometimes it's really hard. It's hard to think that I'm giving up on a task without even trying, but then I remember that I'm not giving up on something normal, I'm redefining my already too high standards. There's nothing wrong with having high standards, but sending them through the roof is often asking for failure, which hereby brings on the guilt. Here's to the learning process . . . **lifts coffee mug**

Surfacing

Slowly, I feel like I'm becoming more of an adult. I realize that legally and mentally, I've been there for a bit, but in terms of the things I am taking on? Huge growth in a short(er) amount of time.

New job - big.
Car payments - big.
Car insurance of my own - not quite so big, but still significant.

Individually, each of these is fairly "grown up," but I feel like I'm still moving in a more adult direction. I'm looking at apartments, planning my would-be budget for different living arrangements and looking at the growing cost of being an adult.

It's not cheap (in a financial sense), but it's certainly a rich experience. I feel like I've been in limbo for quite a while and now I've got the green light to floor it into the kind of life I want. It's only freaking me out a little.

That being said, with these newfound responsibilities, I'm finding it more of an imperative to take better care of myself. I ran two miles tonight, then swam for 25 minutes. I wanted to do some weights or exercises on my stability ball, but I called it quits -- just too tuckered out. I had honestly forgotten the kind of resistance swimming gives you -- no wonder Michael Phelps is in such amazing shape, right? He picked a good sport, I say.

Aside from that, I feel thankful for this. I feel deep gratitude for the opportunities -- that maybe by the time I run my next race (October 4th), I'll be in an apartment, paying my own bills again -- I'm really only looking forward to the sense of pride and accomplishment that really go along with taking care of yourself.

It's exciting, promising, challenging and terrifying all at once. But I couldn't be happier to know that it's just waiting for me, on my time, to go and grab it.

Life is good.

Back in the saddle.

Tonight was my first run (well, first time exercising even) since my race . . . Gosh, how I lost that fast! It's been a month (shame on me, I know), but I was astonished at how quickly I tuckered out. It was a simple 2.03 mile loop, but I think I ran about 1.5 miles . . . maybe.

Granted, I'm carrying a few more pounds than I'd like to be (I don't know what encouraged me to keep eating the way I was eating when I was training -- it's not like I was doing anything to work off those calories), but I know those will fall off eventually.

I want to run a half marathon this fall and I want to run it sub-2:15. That would put me at a consistent 10:30/mile, which I could be proud of.

Today was a GREAT day, all things considered. Last night, I stayed awake thinking of my old life in Fresno and missing it terribly, trying to figure out a way that I could go back. I have to wonder if I'm supposed to, though. Aside from my friend Alex, I didn't know anyone when I moved to Fresno. I had to make friends quickly, I had to adjust. I didn't look back.

I have to wonder if I'm not supposed to be going forward still now. That maybe somehow I sabotage my own efforts at working towards a solid future by my self doubt and hangups of my own inadequacies. In a bible study I recently did, Beth Moore (one of my favorite Christian writers) asked women what they felt was the hardest part about being a woman. One answered, "That I am too much and not enough all at the same time." I couldn't agree more.

I'm weak, broken and worn, but I draw strength from the knowledge that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. In the meantime, I try not to worry about tomorrow . . . or next week . . . or the one after that. I know it will happen in due time, in God's time. Whatever "it" is, it will happen. I trust that and keeping that in mind today, in spite of less than 2 hours of sleep, I was cheerful, alert, productive and able to make good choices throughout the day (not just in working out again, but in how I dealt with others and how I chose to respond to situations).

I am stronger than I realize, and yet I still don't seem able to believe it.