Because I’m Awesome.

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It’s amazing how easy it is to go through life without having enough FUN.

I have a lot of fun, usually, but also find myself occasionally wondering what happened to the carefree nature of life. Days when I’m tired, stressed, and “fun” activities become obligation.

Tonight was one of those nights. I’d paid to go to a GrubWithUs—hadn’t been to one in a long time and I love them—but it ended up being a little stressful. Work is crazy, I’m flying to San Diego tomorrow night, and I had to get to Pac Heights at a decent time. Once I found myself in Chinatown waiting for the 1 California bus, two passed me and didn’t stop because they were full. I was stressed, miserably cold, freaking out about being late, wondering how I’d get to the restaurant and then…

I realized that NO ONE WAS MAKING ME DO THIS.

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Instead I walked up to Powell Street and hopped on the cable car back down to Market, enjoying the wind in my hair and one of my favorite SF traditions on a peaceful night. I walked into Forever 21 and bought a super cheap, sexy dress and $3 turquoise feather earrings because I could. I finally bought the Street Smart newspaper from a homeless person, hopped on the bus, bought a 7-pound bag of ice for $2.75 just so I could have one icy cocktail, mixed it up when I got home along with a bowl of pasta. For dessert, I ate an entire king-size chocolate bar without caring about how many miles I should run tomorrow morning to burn it off.

And I realized: I can do this. Whenever I want.

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Not saying that eating a whole chocolate bar or being buzzed off of a gin and tonic on a Monday night is the key to life, but I realized that I’m constantly obeying rules for myself without even realizing it.

  • I have to be working all the time.
  • I always have to be checking my email.
  • I have to run all the time or be feeling guilty about not running.
  • I need to eat healthy and punish myself when I don’t.
  • I shouldn’t eat the chocolate. I shouldn’t have the cocktail.
  • I have to follow through on every. single. obligation. regardless of how important it actually is or how I am feeling in my mind, body, and spirit.
  • I should be doing something more productive right now.
  • I should lose 5 pounds to be sexier and skinnier. I should feel bad about my body until I do so.
  • I need to constantly project a certain image.
  • I have to obey one million ideas that no one’s forcing me to do.

Well I’m done with this. I’m ready to spend more time being selfish. I’m ready to spend more time doing things that make me feel good. Because I’m awesome. I’m done doing everything for everyone else and I’m going to focus on me and what makes me happy, whether that’s running 7 miles before 7 or not waking up til 11 or eating a fresh salad or the entire chocolate bar or going to bed at 9PM or 3AM or going out and not having a drink or going out and having several or taking an extended lunch break because we all know I get my work done or working through the whole day so I can turn my computer off at 5PM and not touch it til the next morning. I’m going to spend my time how I WANT to spend my time, whether that’s out with a bunch of friends or home drinking cocoa in my jammies or waking up early to exercise or deciding that in no way I’m going to exercise today or prioritizing happiness and pleasure. Because I’m awesome.

I’m done hanging out with friends when it feels like a chore.

I’m done sitting home alone when it feels like a prison.

I’m done thinking of what others expect before I think about what truly makes me happy.

Lord knows I keep healthy. Lord knows I’m good at my job. Lord knows I’m dedicated. That’s not the question. The question is how much joy I take out of the small moments.

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I’m resolving to be more hedonistic in the small moments.

  • I’ll get off the bus a stop early to get hot chocolate for less than $2.
  • I’ll walk the long way back to the bus after work to think.
  • I’ll eat the chocolate or the ice cream or the fried chicken.
  • I’ll waste time doing something that feels like anything but a waste.
  • I’ll look at myself in the mirror and tell myself I’m gorgeous. I’ll have a dance party with myself and not care who is watching.
  • I’ll flirt with whoever I want, be it the guy on the bus or at the store or anywhere else, just because it’s fun.
  • I’ll stop trying to apologize for the fact that I am sexy yet strong, smart and sweet and a whole ball of sass rolled into one.
  • I’ll stop trying to live up to other’s expectations and set my own.

Because I’m awesome. And I deserve it. And so do you.

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Why do we as women put so much pressure on ourselves, in work, in relationships, at home, in life? Why do we feel like taking time for ourselves is selfish or lazy or unproductive? It’s not. If we all were a little more selfish with our time, if we were all a bit better at saying NO, at expressing how we ACTUALLY feel instead of convincing ourselves that we’re overreacting, at eating the chocolate, at dumping the dude who makes you feel bad about yourself, at hiring that babysitter or house cleaner or pickup/delivery laundry service or whatever small thing to make our life easier, the entire world would be a better place.

There’s a place for selfless sacrifice in every day. But there’s also a time to stop caring about who thinks what and what you should be doing and concentrate on what you want to be doing so that YOU feel fulfilled, refreshed and more energetic and happy than ever and can apply that to every area of your life. I’m doing that… because I can.

Join me.

(PS, if you’re ever in need of a pick me up, listen to the Dollyrots’ song Because I’m Awesome while singing along in your jammies. It’s a guaranteed mood booster. It might even prompt an inane blog post about your self-appointed awesomeness.)

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  • Crystal Springs 11-Mile Trail Race Recap (Or, “The Hardest 5 miles of my life”)

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    On Tuesday, my friend texted me and asked if I wanted to do a 22-mile trail run with him on Saturday. I considered it for a minute, checked the website and then decided that 22 might be a bit ambitious for my first trail run but hey, 11 should be easy! I recruited Alyssa, Kabri, and Naomi into coming to play with me (and Aron would be there too).

    Bright and early on Saturday morning, we headed down to Huddart Park in Woodside for the Coastal Trail Runs’ Crystal Springs event.

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    Alyssa and I were both a bit nervous about the fact that this race was pretty much up a mountain. See, I get tired on the hills of Golden Gate Park and those are anthills compared to this. I was committed to walking up all the big hills and just trying to have fun.

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    Showing up, the vibe was TOTALLY different than road races. People were friendly but also hardcore. Some of these people were the “I eat a 50K for breakfast every Sunday” types and they scared me but also made me kind of want to be them. We got there just in time to see Aron off on her 22, then Naomi left for her 5 and Alyssa and I were left with trail expert Kabri who went over the ins and outs of how this whole shebang worked.

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    I was kind of terrified.

    Soon, they said “go” and we ran about 0.1 mile just to stop for a few minutes in a complete bottleneck as the runners entered the trail. No one cared, it was chill. No screaming or “I’M SUPPOSED TO BE RUNNING SUB-8 PACE!” or anything else—we were all joking and laughing. Soon we were en route and running along a fire road.

    The first two miles were nice—slow, calm, rollers but no mountain, yet.

    Then the mountain hit.

    I am not strong on hills. Okay, I LOVE rolling hills. I thought CIM’s hills were PERFECT, I’d take that over a flat course any day. But big hills? I kind of sputter and die and have passed out cold on the side of the road before you even realized I wasn’t behind you anymore. So then we started climbing a mountain and I sputtered and died. Somewhere between mile 2 and 3 I was actually trying to formulate a way to tell Alyssa that I was turning around and going back.

    Mile 1: 12:35

    Mile 2: 12:11

    Mile 3: 13:03

    But then we hit mile 3 and I realized it was three miles back to the start for M&Ms or three miles up a hill to the aid station for M&Ms so I might as well give it a go.

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    Damn, that thing was hard. I was walking a ton and wasn’t even recovering on the walks because it felt more like speed hiking. I realized how ignorant I was of trail running and how I really had no idea how to pace myself, when to walk or what strategies to use at all! It’s such a different mental game. I felt very humbled by my inability to conquer nary the smallest hill on the course. I really didn’t think we would ever get to the top. But eventually somehow we did.

    Mile 4: 16:16 (yes, really…)

    Mile 5: 15:48 (yes, really…)

    Mile 6: 19:00 (…)

    I took a gu at mile 4.5 – I usually gu every 6 miles in a race, but it had already been over an hour by the time we got to mile 4.5 and more than three hours since I’d taken in any calories so it was very much needed. Though, gel on the trail tasted disgusting for some reason—I wanted real food. And at mile 6 (aid station) I was rewarded.

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    PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY AND OREOS. This may have been the best thing that has ever happened to me. Ever.

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    I dropped one of the oreos on the ground and picked it up immediately—no way was I letting that go so easily. I put it in my glove that I was carrying to save for the way back. Yes, I ran 3 miles with an oreo in my glove. Best decision ever.

    I also ran into Dorna from Lazy Chick Runs Too at the aid station! I knew she looked familiar. So funny! She was also getting beat down by the trail like I was but remained happy – it was great to meet her!

    Going back was so fun. Downhill! Me wanting to fling myself off the mountain turned into me actually having a really good time. A and I were talking about Ogden, running downhill, what hurt (everything) and the general jabber and the last four miles went by quite quickly. Yes, four. The course was actually ten miles. Following in the theme of running races much shorter than advertised. Kabri, who came in fourth in her AG, finished 20 minutes ahead of us and also clocked 9.5 miles. The mystery of trail running.

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    Mile 7: 11:24

    Mile 8: 11:42

    Mile 9: 11:57

    Mile 10: 9:06 (WOOOOOOOO!! SUB 10!!!!!!!!)

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    Overall, it took me 2 hours and 13 minutes to run ten miles. That is a 13:20 pace. Some people finished the marathon and 50K at sub-8 pace! I have such newfound respect (and awe and disbelief…) for trail runners. What a different mental game! But at least there are things like cookies at the end.

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    Afterward, I felt like I’d run a marathon or ten. My ankles were stiff, knees were angry, shoulders sore from keeping me upright. I felt like an old woman! But I am so glad I did it. I am looking forward to running more trails. It really is beautiful. I just need to learn the mental game and really not care about the fact that I’m doing more hiking than running. : )

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    And then lunch was fries and an unpictured Banana Oreo Snow with large tapioca from Quickly heaven.

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    Fun stuff. I’m going to have to do this again soon. Once everything doesn’t hurt anymore.

    Courtney

    Ever done trail running? What do you prefer – road or trail?

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  • Race Recap: The New Years Dash 5k/2.87-miler

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    Okay, so the blog took a little tiny bit of a backseat this week while I was busy at work and lost sleep over the fire trauma, but I’m back in action.

    First up: a New Years’ Eve Recap, or, more specifically, the New Years Dash 5K recap.

    Backstory: this was going to be my first 5K as a runner. Besides one I ran in 2005 that took me 35 minutes. This year, I ran three marathons and zero 5Ks. Basically, I hate running fast and don’t know how to. So I decided I was going to run this 5K to give me a “base” 5K time to work on. My goal was to beat 25 minutes, which would mean running 8 minute miles for 3.1 miles. This would be EXTREMELY hard for me, but I was committed to redlining it and holding on as long as humanly possible. The course scared me, though—it was a mile downhill on JFK and then mile two was straight back uphill. Barf! I decided to try to do a 7:50 first mile so I could do an 8:10 second mile back up the hill. I picked #24 because I wanted a 24 in front of my time.

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    The race was very casual and even had me laughing at times, super informal but it was no big deal—I was just counting on my Garmin for time. At 9:45AM we were off and started screaming down JFK. I wanted to keep Alyssa in my sight for as long as possible (i.e. not long) and tore through the first mile in 7:22. This is the fastest mile I have run this year without stopping. But then we turned around and plowed right through a wet field. Yes, you read that right. I was slipping all over the place on the wet grass, plus it was uphill—I think I saw a 9:15 pace on my Garmin! Then it was back out to the steep uphill part of the road. I felt like I was dying and mile two beeped 8:41. I had to laugh at that point (even though I didn’t really have any energy to do so). 8:41?!?! In a 5K? Oh well—I figured I could scream around Stow Lake, clock a 7:45 and still go sub-25.

    I did pick manage to hold my “I feel like death” pace around Stow Lake and when I was careening down the hill out of Stow Lake I was at 7:45 pace. I had 2.75 miles on the Garmin in just over 22 minutes and I knew I was made. But then the finish line happened! After 2.87 miles! I was so confused—part of me wanted to knock out the final .23 miles but there were people standing around in my way so I just stopped.

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    Turned out we weren’t supposed to go through that slip n’ slide of a meadow! The course wasn’t clearly marked and someone tore across it so everyone followed suit. So I still have no 5K time but a new 2.87 mile PR of 22:44. The great thing is that even if I had slowed a bit from the speed I had down the finish I would have finished in 24:30, thirty seconds faster than planned. So I plan to enter a new *flat* 5K and push for a sub-24. I think I can do it.

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    I enjoyed the time after the run with the amazing Katie (2place), Alyssa, Cate, Alisyn, Kabri, and Renee, and got to see Jojo and Erin from SFM as well! Katie poured my mimosa. It was a GENEROUS pour aka a red cup full of champagne with a tiny bit of OJ on top. Then my friend called and said she was already on the bay bridge (she was staying with me for New Years) so I chugged it down and decided to run the two miles home. Note: running 7 miles, including 3 at 5K pace, then chugging a mimosa and running through the Haight with new years beads on and holding a party horn is a really great way to start the NYE festivities.

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    I am bummed I didn’t get a 5K time but am excited for the next one I do with no huge uphill and no wet meadow. : )

    Other New Years festivities included watching my beloved UCLA Bruins play an absolutely atrocious football game, finally meeting the Oscar Meijer Weinermobile, and wearing a very sparkly and very short gold dress.

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    A week-belated HAPPY NEW YEAR to everybody! This week I’ll finally post about some awesome new desserts I’ve created (very important…), my 2012 resolutions and my race recap from my first race of the year (spoiler alert: 13+ minute average pace. Watch out world.)

    Courtney

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  • Too Close to Home: The Masonic Ave Fire

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    Last night, nothing happened and everything did.

    I had just sat down with my laptop around 8PM to do a little productive work on the 1st of the year to get it started off right, after quite the lazy day. Only minutes afterward I heard a woman screaming outside, in a bone-chilling way, and the sirens of police cars. Mind you, I live in a cute house on a hill in San Francisco, this doesn’t usually happen right here. I called my neighbor to see what was going on and that’s when the fire trucks came. Several. The street was rapidly filling with red and white lights and that’s when I went outside and saw the smoke billowing from the house three doors down.

    Initial reaction was slight panic. It’d be fine, right? Firefighters do this stuff every day. I was outside and then I went back into my apartment with the door still open. Then the commotion around grew louder and people start streaming out of their houses. A policewoman banged on the door and said words I’d never heard in this context – “we need you to get out.”

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    I grabbed the duffel bag in front of me and it was like the world stopped. There I was standing in the middle of my apartment as chaos was erupting in the streets and I was focused, in that millisecond, on the age-old question: what do I take with me?

    I threw in my computers, phone charger, purse, passport, and camera. Luckily I keep all those things together, but more intentionally for an earthquake—not this. Then I grabbed a pair of jeans and my makeup “for work tomorrow.” Irrational, but in that millisecond, it was what I thought about. At this point, 15 seconds have passed at most and I found myself in the middle of the room heading out. What do I take? I grabbed my three full marathon medals off the wall, my journal, and a framed photo of me with great friends that was in arms reach. I took one glance around and had only one coherent thought: I would be okay without these things. Then I closed my door and walked out. (Don’t worry—I took these below pictures well after the fact. No photos happened until after I realized things would be okay)

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    When we were told to evacuate, I was not in imminent physical danger. The fire had not spread to my house. But fires have been running rampant over The City, and when I closed my door, I didn’t know if I’d see my belongings again. Two doors down isn’t much when you’re in old Edwardians. (Below stunning photo by Pete Briones who got some shocking shots of the fire)

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    When I was out, the flames were licking the sky, two structures fully ablaze. We were pushed all the way up to the street corner as more and more fire trucks and emergency personnel arrived. At one point, the wind picked up slightly and the embers from the flames were falling on the roof of my building. In that moment, I was waiting for what seemed to be inevitable. In that moment I was feeling three somewhat discordant things simultaneously:

    • Wow, I’m an idiot for not getting renter’s insurance, and that tab has been open on my laptop for a full week. Guess I’ll be the poster child for all my friends to get it.
    • Man, it would really suck to lose everything.
    • If this happens, everything is going to be okay.

    The last one was a bit weird but sitting out there, with neighbors wondering if our house would go up in flames, I lost the utter anxiety that had overwhelmed me and realized that I might lose everything but I would bounce right back. I was tweeting during the fire and the outpouring of love and support I received was amazing and left me at peace—realizing that even if I lost everything I owned, and it was my fault because I live in an old house with no insurance, I had people that loved me and that’s what mattered.

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    And then all of a sudden the fire was contained.

    Three buildings are heavily damaged. I don’t know the residents of those units personally, but my heart goes out to them. I can’t imagine what they’re going through right now and I wish them peace and an outpouring of love. In the end, everyone was okay. Praise the Lord.

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    Once I realized the place I lived wasn’t going to go up in flames the adrenaline crash left me queasy and feeling like I was watching a movie instead of living it. After what seemed like hours of sitting outside watching the madness unfold, we were led back to our unit by a cop under “shelter in place” conditions (aka stay inside or talk to the firefighters outside if anything is wrong). The fire ladder was still on the roof, but somehow we were okay. When I walked into my apartment and things were as they’d been, I was shocked. In that time, I had gone through shock and anger and then acceptance that I might be homeless. To walk in hours later and for the place to look untouched—it was insane.

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    I feel so incredibly blessed today. If there had just be a little more wind, or had the SFFD been just slightly slower, I could be writing a very, very different blog post today. My thoughts are with my neighbors who suffered losses last night. I truly feel an outpouring of gratefulness for so many things—the San Francisco Fire Department, the rare still night, friends who offered support if things had gone otherwise, for this building that I adore so much to still be standing. Grateful for the moments that take you out of your trivial problems and make you realize what really does matter. People, not things.

    Here I am, writing this blog post, in my intact apartment, just one day later. Nothing happened—but yet everything did.

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  • 2011: The Year In Running

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    Greetings folks. I planned to do a whole 2011 series this week but frankly life just got in the way. So some of them may be belated, but I did want to do a little recap of my running year. The other, harder-to-quantify stuff can come later.

    In January I started training for my first marathon.

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    In March I ran my first half-marathon and shocked myself.

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    On May 1st I crossed the finish line of my first marathon in Big Sur and it was one of the greatest moments of my life. I knew I was hooked. (note the unintentional post-race beer theme…)

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    A few weeks later I did Bay to Breakers – notice I didn’t say “run” – in two and a half hours. : )

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    In June, I met some amazing bay area runners and bloggers who now I count as some of my closest friends.

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    In July, I crossed the finish line of the San Francisco Marathon, a truly amazing race that I was blessed to share with many others.

    In August and October, I ran three more half marathons, with various times and experiences.

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    The Giant Race – August

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    San Jose Rock & Roll Half – October

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    Nike Women’s Marathon – October

    And then in late November, an opportunity presented itself to run the California International Marathon. I finished it on December 4th in 4:08.

    Tally for the year:

    • 3 full marathons
    • 4 half marathons
    • 1 12K
    • 1 10K
    • 1 5K
    • 1,200+ miles
    • 5 pairs of running shoes
    • 4 lost toenails
    • 2 boxes of GU
    • A scary amount of $$ spent on running clothes
    • An unquantifiable number of new memories

    It’s really hard for me to look back on this year and truly dictate what a big role running played. It was the source of stress at times, of course, but it was so much more than that.

    Running became an escape. It became something to throw the stress and hurt into and meld it into something positive.

    It provided a constant in my life when nothing else was. Moving from Africa to America, moving cities, starting a new career, starting a new life. Everything seemed so transient. Running remained the same. One foot in front of the other.

    It gave me a mental challenge: the marathon. The marathon is as mental as it is physical. Where your mind goes at mile 22 is a dark place that few experience. You know more about your deepest self after a marathon than ever before.

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    It gave me confidence. I used to believe I could never run a marathon and now I’ve run three.

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    It gave me some great friends. There are some new people in my life who I’m incredibly grateful for and blessed to call my friends.

    It gave me new goals. I was ecstatic when I hit 1000 miles, then ending the year at a bit over 1200 momentarily makes me feel like I didn’t try enough when half my twitter beat 2,000, but then it gets me back to the main thing:

    Running is one area where ironically, I don’t feel like I’m competing about anyone but myself. I compete for seats on the bus, better tasks at work, the soup special before it runs out. With running, it doesn’t matter how many miles other people ran. What matters to me is that in my first year of being a “runner” I did things I didn’t know I could do, and that’s what matters.

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    I look forward to 2012 and seeing what it brings. Thanks to everyone who’s been a part of my running journey this year. I can’t wait for the next chapter.

    Courtney

    What were the highlights of your 2011?

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  • Christmas Actually Is All Around

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    As I sit here on Christmas evening, I’ve found myself thinking about what Christmas means to different people. It’s Jesus’s birthday, of course, but the holiday is celebrated in many different ways by people who believe many different things. There’s an overarching “holiday spirit” that infects us, and takes on a variety of forms. I’ve seen Christmas manifest itself in several ways over the last few days.

    Christmas is nighttime Embarcadero runs with friends, followed by fries.

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    Christmas is a Christmas Eve trail run with mom, a beautiful day with some big hills to boot.

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    Christmas is cinnamon rolls, cookies, waffles, more waffles, more cookies…

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    Christmas is spending hours setting up what seemed like thousands of paper bags filled with dirt and votive candles two feet apart across two huge corner lots, only to have the end result be completely worth it.

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    IMG_0637(Please note the bottom sign: Occupy Christmas! One man controls 99% of the presents!)

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    Christmas is time with family.

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    Even the adopted family that barks.

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    Christmas is receiving Funfetti cake, pancake mix, a waffle maker, and The Stick for Christmas, and recognizing that your loved ones know you pretty freaking well.

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    Christmas is watching movies that are definitely Christmas movies, some that are debatable, and others that most definitely are NOT.

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    But to me, most importantly, Christmas is a time to reflect on the faith that shapes my life that defines my heart, that gives me comfort in times of turmoil, that gives me hope in times of despair.

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    The holidays have been pretty loaded for me these last few years. In 2008 I was overseas and lonely, away from all I held dear; in 2009 I was home for two weeks after 15 months abroad and in extreme culture shock and confusion; in 2010 I had just returned home after 27 difficult months overseas. The post I wrote last year really shows where I was at that time—grateful.

    This holiday season has been hard. Instead of filling consumed by joy and love, I’ve been, to be honest, a bit sad. Loneliness has ruled in my mind over togetherness. Stress has overwhelmed peace. But finally this weekend I’ve been brought back to Earth, to focus on what truly matters instead of getting caught up in everything else.

    This week is my one year anniversary of returning home from Africa, one year since going vegetarian, one year since the most recent chapter of my life began. So it’s a little emotionally loaded. But what I pause to reflect on is LOVE. Just love.

    I’m looking forward to an exciting new year ahead, to new beginnings and endings. And to remember the spirit of Christmas for what is truly is: a gift of love.

    Merry Christmas everyone!

    Courtney

    PS. The winner of the coffee giveaway is MCM mama. Send me your address! : )

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    What does Christmas mean to you?

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