Fresh start

Watch out, blogosphere, I’m back!

I abandoned my old blog nearly a year and a half ago because I was simply having a hard time writing posts that were authentic and genuine.  I started that blog when I was a married mom of a toddler, getting my husband through school so we could move home and start our real life together.  I dreamed of working part time as a nurse and raising the three children I was bound to produce.  I excercised because I had to, not because I wanted to.  I planned meticulous menus and organized grocery lists that took at least two drafts before I deemed them properly cross-referenced with coupons and store-ready.

Ohhh, the Amy of 2009.  I remember her well.

My life took some kind of crazy, effed-up detour that left me divorced from a drug addict, raising my daughter on my own and, perhaps most surprising of all, a RUNNER.

Yes, that’s right.  When the going gets tough, the tough start moving.  Or at least I did, if for no other reason than to release the pent-up stress and anxiety I felt constantly pressured by.  My friend Paul taught me proper form and pilfered an Albuterol inhaler for me, so I could survive my first winter season of running outside in the cold.  He trekked alongside me at what had to be a boring pace for him during my first painful 5k races, the races I felt sure I’d never finish.  My sister Abby ran along beside me and made sure I didn’t hurt myself on my worst days, when I needed to barrel down the indoor track of the YMCA like a gorilla, punching the air in front of me.  My mom bought me good shoes and supportive bras…the only real gear needed for my newfound sport.

Flash forward to Amy 2012.  A handful of half-marathons and various 10k races under my belt, and I have long since ditched my anxiety-inducing habit of menu planning and list making.  I live with a five-year-old.  Let’s be real.  We eat mostly PB&J and turkey dogs for dinner, the meal that is generally a stop-over between the end of a work day and the beginning of a busy evening spent at swim lessons or a training run or haircuts or the library or…or, or, or.  I miss the old Amy every once in awhile.  But I wouldn’t go back to 2009 if you paid me, and I’m happy in this life as a single mom/nurse/runner.

I write a lot about my daughter.  I plan to write a lot about how it is, exactly, that a single mom manages to train for a half marathon.  (Think lots and lots of babysitting support from friends and family who love us.)  I love to write.  That’s why I’m back!

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