A Single Girl's Saturday Night: A Recap of 2014...

... and an introduction to 2015.

Okay, yes, I realize it's not Saturday night. But all week I wasn't able to keep straight what day of the week it was. The roommate and I were at kickboxing the other night and having a quick chat between exercises about what day it was. She told me it was Wednesday and I still thought it was Thursday and just couldn't get it out of my head. I couldn't even say Wednesday even though she had literally just told me it was. This is how I feel my 2015 has been so far. A powerful whirlwind that takes your breath away.

But before I get too far ahead, I want to take some time to recap 2014 (well, really just the end of it) and lay it to rest.

Let's not kid ourselves, overall it was a shitty year. 2013 ended shitty with the devastating and totally startling breakup that happened and so I carried all sorts of baggage into the year.  Already feeling unwanted, lonely, depressed and abandoned, things got worse. I found out that a group of people I had thrown so much passion and energy into were saying some of the worst things ever about me behind my back on social media. That group were some of the students I work with.  And that was just about as devastating as my breakup.  I felt like everything I had strived to be- an excellent professional who was dedicated to her students and be a wonderful partner and friend- was a wash.  I felt so alone and broken.  And it took me most of 2014 to heal.  In fact, I don't think I felt whole (or anywhere near it) until almost the end of December when I cut off my hair and crossed the finish line at my half marathon in Kiawah.

It's funny how 2 arbitrary things like cutting my hair and running 13.1 miles helped me heal. Finished my healing process.

Last moments with my ridiculously long hair. My girlfriend (my adventure partner in crime), Kerri,  and I were on Kiawah Island for our half marathon the next day when I threw this idea out to her... what if I cut off all my hair? So I called a salon I found on Google, read the reviews, took a chance and called to see if they had an appointment.  I said I would take it as a sign- if there was an appointment, it was meant to be; if there wasn't an appointment, the world was saying no go.

Well, you can guess what happened. First picture post-cut. A month later and I still am getting used to the short locks. Love it, but after years of working to grow my hair long again, it's an adjustment.

Not the best picture, but with my 2 10-inch ponytails before I sealed them up and off to locks of love. One of the best feelings I've had in a long time. I could share a gift with someone that could never be repaid. I could do something for a stranger without ever wanting or expecting something in return. I could share a piece of me, with someone who needed it more than I did.

But cutting off my hair wasn't the only accomplishment of that weekend. There was that little half marathon that lead us to Kiawah (which by the way, if you haven't been to Kiawah, don't wait any longer).

Just a little oh-so-hot pre-race picture. Trying to stay warm inside before we tackle running 13.1 (that .1 is what really matters folks) miles. I won't lie. I felt so ill-prepared. I hadn't run for about 2 weeks before the race. I felt down about it. I had decided in July that I was going to run so I could be super prepared and was disappointed in myself. And then the race happened. And I actually took 30 minutes off my time from 2 years ago. Granted, I still moved as slow as a turtle moving through peanut butter, but I did it.

It's a little ridiculous that we don't look red, sweaty (not that we look amazing in this picture). If only you could see how we were moving and just moments before this picture, the tears I was choking back as I talked to my parents post race.  While I didn't let the floodgates open, everything was right there. The crazy amount of rush of emotions I felt through that morning, from excitement, to nerves, to happiness and pride, to fury and anger... 

and then it all just stopped. 

And it was over. 

And so was all the pain I'd felt in 2014.

I know it's taboo to be an 'open book' so publicly. And to share the pain I've felt. And to talk about my vulnerabilities. And some of it I couldn't talk about until now. And some of it I won't ever talk about. But I'm hoping someone, somewhere, can find some hope, some peace, in knowing that they aren't alone. And that living through the pain is part of it all. And while it feels like it won't end, it does.

A couple days after the race, I started going to kickboxing classes with my roommate (who moved in earlier in December). It's a great form of exercise- I feel empowered (and exhausted) while I'm in class and afterwards. In 2015, I started back to cycling, which I hadn't been to in about 6 months. I'm being a healthier eater (one treat a week on Friday nights). I feel good. And happy.

So here I sit, on this not Saturday night, a single girl, with her 2 fur babies, a Redbox movie and a homemade salted caramel milkshake. Telling you that every little thing is gonna be all right ;) The pain of life is what reminds us that we're alive. 

That's the thing about pain. It demands to be felt.

You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you do have a say in who who hurts you. And I like my choices.

-The Fault in Our Stars

Bring it on 2015. Let's do this.