New Year, New Me?!?!

*Disclaimer: This has been the hardest post of my life to put out there. I have sat on it for over a week trying to decide if I really want to go through with this. It is really long, a little rambling and should have been split out into 2 parts. Yet I was afraid I would chicken out and never post the second half. So grab cup coffee and get settled in. I will be the girl over in the corner hyperventilating in a paper bag because I finally had the courage to share something I have been trying to do for almost 2 years. Cheers!

Happy New Year!!  2014 was an epic year for the Martin family. Both Kipper and I set out to accomplish goals that just a year before we could have never dreamed of.  Along the way to achieving those goals we made new friends, grew closer to old friends, celebrated 10 years of wedded bliss, did more laundry and dishes than I care to recall (damn water bottles) and learned more about ourselves than we ever imagined.  As we welcome the start of another year it is time to set new goals and put forth a plan to achieve them.  A new year, a new me…right?!?!

Sort of, but not exactly.

At one time I was REALLY big on New Year’s resolutions. I would spend so much time coming up with big goals and ideas of things I wanted to accomplish for the entire year.  And while a few bits and pieces would happen, the majority always fell to the wayside and made me feel like a failure.  My New Year’s resolutions were just another example of me trying to map my life out 365 days in advance and never planning how I would adjust when life threw me a curveball.  And life always throws you a curveball (or five!)

Over the last two years I have done away with what I traditionally called New Year’s resolutions and focused more on attainable long term goals, reevaluating things every few months.  I think Kipper said it best – there is nothing magical about January 1st!  (Other than getting to use a new calendar; which is kind of magical if you are dorky like me!)  If you have a goal or a dream you can start on a random Tuesday in March or a Friday in September.  And if you get off track, all you need to do is wake up and start again. Every day is a chance to start anew.

Life is about growth.  I truly believe you must continue to grow and develop all areas of your life in order to fully live life the way God intended us to.  Sometimes that means pushing past your comfort zones.  Breaking down walls and allowing yourself to be more vulnerable in the eyes of others.  It is an ongoing journey and it can be so scary, yet so incredibly freeing. 

When I started my blog, my goal was to focus on craft and dyi projects, with the occasional post about my personal life.  I didn’t realize it then, but looking back I realize my blog was away for me to escape from issues I didn’t want to deal with at that time.  I quickly found that I was writing more personal posts than anything, although the majority of them remained up published.  I slowly started posting more of them, but was still extremely guarded. 

In 2013 I made a promise to myself that I would be more transparent in my blogging and I began to open up about my struggle with depression, ADHD and infertility.  In 2014 while my blogging was limited, I shared some of my rawest, most honest posts ever.  Sometimes I still can’t believe I ever hit publish on them, but in the end I am so thankful I did. 

Every time I took a leap of faith and put my heart out there, I was blown away by the response.  The amount of love and support I have received, from places I would have never imagined, has been amazing! I was always so concerned about how others would judge me and I am sure there are some who have. Yet through this experience I have found a support system that I would have never had.  I have connected with others in a way that would have never happened in our casual friendship and have been blessed to have been a very small part of helping a few other women start their journey breaking down their own walls.  

Because of the promise I made to myself in 2013 and the small chance this might help someone else, I have finally decided to open up about the issue that scares me the most and plays a huge part of my battle with depression – my weight and self-image issues. I have written countless posts on this topic, but I have never been brave enough to share.  Today - in the spirit of the New Year - that changes.  

Long story short, I have had a long, extremely unhealthy relationship with food and my weight.  For years my thoughts were consumed with calories, dress sizes and weight. I measured my worth in numbers and even at a size 2/4 and 120 pounds I wasn't truly happy.   

Anytime something didn't work out, in my mind, it was always because I was fat. Seriously.  Broke up with my boyfriend – I was too fat. Didn't get the part in a play I wanted – too fat. Didn't make the grade I expected on a test – you guessed it, too fat!  It never crossed my mind that things don’t always go your way or that maybe if I wasn't so preoccupied with what size my new jeans were and spent more time studying I MIGHT have done better on that test.  

In my 20’s I found some relief from this thanks to antidepressants but at the cost of gaining weight.  I came to a point that I just stopped caring about my nutrition or working out, literally doing everything I could not to think about it. Yet I hadn't actually fixed anything, only band aided it and I still thought about it often. It took me several years to realize that. 

A little over 3 years ago, after the hardest year of my life, I had gained a considerable amount of weight – 40 pounds to be exact.  I was miserable.  By the grace of God I decided to start running with Kipper. My original motivation was weight loss. Only I had no idea how this decision to run would change my life so many other ways.  At the heaviest I had ever been, I signed up and completed a Warrior Dash mud run.

Over the next year I kept running and worked extremely hard to get myself off Prozac and Adderall. It took almost a year but I was able to get off all my meds and was feeling better than I had in ages. I lost a little weight, just not as much as I had hoped. Yet I kept running and setting new goals. Somewhere along the way the goals stopped being only weight related and became endurance and health related.

Fast-forward to 2014. Training for and running a full marathon and watching Kipper complete an Ironman 70.3 changed everything.  For the first time it all clicked. My imperfect body had carried me through the hardest and most epic challenge I could imagine.  I had wasted so much of my life consumed with my weight and being smaller.  When I was 120 pounds, I couldn't run more than maybe a mile. Yet there I was at 240 pounds and I had run a marathon.  It actually makes me more proud of myself knowing that I had the courage at this weight to start and finish something that only 1% of population attempts.  (Now excuse me while a freak out that I just shared my weight with the entire world…something up until now only my husband and doctors have known!)

As I move forward in my journey I know that while I am completely healthy now, my weight can’t stay here because there will come a day it will affect me. I also know that dropping some weight will make a huge difference in my running.  Kipper has long thought that part of my issue is on most days I don’t eat enough or I have a major splurges and am way over. I don't have a happy medium. My body is all out of whack and confused.  And while I have agreed with him for some time I have no evidence to support that theory because tracking my food terrifies me.  It gives me great anxiety and takes me back to a former version of myself that I never want to be again.  I will track here and there but as soon as I start to panic, I stop.

I am finally in a place that I am ready to tackle that fear and anxiety once and for all.  I know it is going to be tough. It is going to force me to face demons I have tried to bury for far too long. But I’m not the girl I once was. Food isn't my enemy or a substitute for a therapist. Even though I struggle some days, a number on a scale doesn't define me.  Somehow surviving the first week of tracking my food without any freak outs has reconfirmed all of this.  

Moving forward I have promised myself I will continue to share this part of my journey. It terrifies me. It is the wall that I have never let many past, but it is time. I am so thankful that I have an incredibly supportive husband and that God has placed a handful of people in my life over the last few years that have given me new perspective and helped get me to this point. 

Merry Christmas from the Martin Family!

Yellow Shoe Diaries: The Great Ankle Spraining of 2014

Taking in all the Christmas lights on what might have been one of the most incredible runs I have ever had. Everything felt so effortless. It was like I was flying up and down the hills. I even texted Kipper to let him know I was going to run longer than planned. 

Then I  fell off a curb and rolled my ankle! (and before you ask it wasn't while I was texting!!) It took a second for me to realize what happened but when it clicked I just started bawling. I sat down on the curb for a moment thinking it would just stop hurting after a moment. It didn't really stop but I guess I sort of got used to the pain and realized I couldn't just sit on the curb all night. 

Nearly a mile away, I hobbled home. My ankle is so swollen and already bruising. Pretty sure my Holiday Run Challenge has come to an early end this year. :( 

The Triathlete's Wife

Ever since we ran our first 5K and Kipper got his first road bike, he had talked about wanting to do a triathlon. So after losing just over 100 pounds that dream became a reality and he did his first triathlon. It was just a short sprint called Try the Tri but you would have thought it was the Olympics by how proud I was of him. Seriously.

After that race I assumed there would be more but then the word "Ironman" started coming up more and more. (and he wasn't talking about the movie either!)  At that time I couldn't wrap my head around him taking on something like that. But as time went on, the pieces started to fall in place and I finally could see it.

After 2 years of new athletic adventures we both had big dreams for 2014. I was going to do my first marathon in February and Kipper would do his first half Ironman in October. We both agreed we would do what we needed to in order to support each other through achieving this fitness dreams. Which basically meant while the other was training we would step up and be domestic. (which I am not!)  Let me tell you Mr. Martin got the better end of the deal because his training is WAY longer than mine was. lol.

First up...find a tri coach! This was a long process that he actually started in December 2013. If you know Kipper, you know his OCD.  Agonizing over who was the best fit for our lifestyle and his personality, plus their training philosophy was a beat down. In my heart I knew who was best for him, but I only offered up advice when asked and tried to let him figure it out for himself. In the end Trident was his pick. As well as mine since the day we met with Tim nearly a month before.

I'm not going to lie, after meeting with the coaches I was nervous. Ironman anything was a big time commitment and time wasn't something we always have a lot of. Between working 2 jobs, school and family this was going to be a major life change for not only Kipper, but me too.

And then there was my "investagoogle" of how Ironman training affects marriages. Much of what I found didn't ease my mind. Story after story of damaged relationships but then there were a few that talked about how it made their marriage stronger. We are very blessed with a strong marriage and I made a promise to myself that in the end we would be better for this experience.

For the last 8 months our lives have sort of revolved around triathlon. While it hasn't always been easy and there have been times if I had to wash another water bottle I might have gone mental, it has been incredibly rewarding. I have watched my husband grow in ways that just 4 years ago I would have never imagined. We found a new normal in our relationship and made it work.   And with less than a week till race day I am happy to say with a lot of work, we both made good on the promise of our marriage being better for this experience.

I feel like we are more in tune to each others needs more than every before (which is kind of crazy since we have always been pretty good about that!) I will be the first to tell you I got lonely with Kipper training so much. Many days he would work a 12 hour shift and then go workout for 2+ hours. By the time he got home he would shower, eat and pass out on the coach. Then back up at 4:30-5:00 am to do it all again the next day. He has been so good about picking up on when I just need time and somehow making it happen. Lunch dates on his days off during the week have been a true blessing.

For my part (other than the extra domestic stuff) I tried to play it by ear each week to see how I could best help Kipper through that week. Sometimes it was helping get his stuff for the next day together, picking up dinner because he was too tired to cook (and didn't want what I would cook! lol) or staying up with the fur babies when they were extra playful so he could sleep. Other times it was as simple as reminding him that I truly believe he can do this or keeping him company on a run when his head is telling him to quit.

The one thing I did every week that never changed was prayer. Lots and lots of prayers. For us our athletic adventures have been very spiritual. As much as we have enjoyed the challenges, it isn't about us. The grace of God and His strength have carried both of us over each finish line. It is the same grace and strength that have helped Kipper push through workouts when he didn't think he could give an ounce more.  And even though the participant handbook says you can receive no outside help, come Sunday, October 26, 2014 I know Kipper won't have to do this alone. And that gives me an incredible amount of peace.

I know I speak for both Kipper and I, we are so grateful for supportive friends and family who have been there through this journey. It takes a village and we are very blessed to have a HUGE village praying and supporting this weekend.

For those of you who would like to follow along from home there are a few ways you can:

1. Follow my Instagram/Facebook posts #halfironkipper 
2. Follow the athlete tracker on the Ironman website. He is bib 2655
3. Watch the live feed from the finish line 

Many friends have asked what they can do to support Kipper this weekend. His wave is slated to hit the water at 8:10 a.m. Sunday morning. If you don't mind, please stop and say a prayer at 8:10. Pray for a safe, injury free race. Pray for peace of mind. Pray for endurance. And most of all pray that God is glorified every step of the way.

I can't believe the day is almost here. A day that has been in the making for 4 years.  This proud wife can't think of a better way to spend her 33rd Birthday than cheering on her best friend as he achieves this dream!

Yellow Shoe Diaries: You Are Enough!

To whoever chalk bombed the trail this weekend with various sayings - Thank You!!! 

My training has been off and I was slightly dreading today's long run. 4 miles in I was miserable and I was just going to quit because I was so disappointed in myself.  Right before made the turn to go back to my car, I talked myself into pushing through a little longer.  

Even though I struggled and fought with myself the entire time - I made it. Kipper met me at the food truck park to eat afterwards and just stared at me as I sobbed post run. (girls are weird, haven't we covered that by now?) Today was an excellent reminder that running 10 less than stellar miles always trumps giving up on yourself! 

The Start Of Something New: Yellow Shoe Diaries

Changing of the guard! 

My faithful pink shoes ran their last 9 miles yesterday. I achieved things I never imagined in those shoes. Can't wait to see where my new pair takes me. 

Welcome to the Yellow Shoe Diaries!! 

Make sure to follow me on Instagram #yellowshoediaries for all my Yellow Shoe Diary adventures as I will only be highlighting the most significant or my favorites on the blog.  

Threads of Hope: Our New Direction

Have you ever struggled to find the right words to explain your feelings but every time you try to communicate them the words never come? This has been me for the last month or so. Even when talking to my own husband, I struggled to find the words. It was so frustrating for me and I am pretty sure it has at times caused tension between the two of us. That is what I think I hate the most about these emotions.

Just when I had sort of given up hope, it happened. I was sound asleep and something woke me up. I don't remember what it was, everyone else in the house was fast asleep. It was like a light switch went off in my brain in the middle of a random night, suddenly the words were there. I laid in bed, tears streaming down my face as everything I had been struggling with suddenly made complete sense.

(You might want to grab some refreshments or run to the restroom, because this is going to be a long one!)

Imagine you decided to knit a blanket. Even though you don't work on it every day, it is always in the back of your mind. There are periods of time you are so focused on it you can't think clearly about anything else. Overtime you look back at what you have already completed, you begin to see areas of imperfection and other parts that are stitched it perfection. Imagine running your hands over each stitch, reliving all the joy, heartbreak, excitement and frustration you have experienced while making it.  More prayers and tears than you can recall have been stitched in, one by one. Yet no matter how much you want to finish your blanket you just keep going and going...for nearly 5 years.

Our struggle with infertility is a lot like that never ending blanket. And right now I am doing my best to hang on to it by a few threads. Threads of hope.

Earlier this summer it became clear that even though our insurance would help pay for some of the IVF treatment, we wouldn't be moving forward with it. After considering all the pros and cons, we decided the risks were too great. There would be multiple surgeries, concerns over the hormone injections required, and even with insurance a very significant cost for just one shot. Even though I was the one who essentially came to the conclusion first, it was really hard to say it out loud.

With that decision, the chances of me ever carrying a child (aside from a miracle from God) were over.  It was heart breaking to me but I almost feel like it was a relief to Kipper. You see, ever since I can remember he has always felt like we were supposed to adopt. When we first started talking about having a baby he wanted to talk about adoption.  I have always thought of adoption as a beautiful way to grow a family, but I wanted so badly to have a child on our own so I dismissed talk of anything else.  I am pretty sure this is a prime example of me wanting to follow my own plan when God had another one. We just took the long way around.

As excited as I was that we had made a decision on how to move forward. I have been overwhelmed. Adoption is an emotional roller coaster and I am going into this somewhat emotionally drained from our infertility experience. And then there is the fact that on paper, I have no clue how we will be able to afford it. Seriously, I have no idea and it terrifies me.

Kipper and I agreed that we would stick to the same plan with adoption as we had agreed on with IVF. We would get through October and his Half Ironman before we proceeded. It would give him the opportunity to focus and it would give me the time to research our options and just give my mind a rest.

But I have been struggling and couldn't figure out why. How is it possible to be so incredibly happy, yet sad at the same time?  There were even moments when I really thought about going back on an antidepressant. Maybe the help it would provide finally outweighed all the horrible side affects I fought so hard to get away from. But just when I was to my breaking point, my middle of the night epiphany made everything so clear.

I have been grieving. Mourning the loss of what most likely will never be. 

The excitement of telling family and friends. Morning sickness. Hearing the heartbeat for the first time. An ever expanding belly. The feeling of tiny kicks. Being surrounded by our loved ones as we find out the gender. The look on his face first time Kipper could feel them move. Swollen ankles and feet. Sonogram photos. Singing and talking to my belly. Doctors appointment. Back pain. Creating a birth plan. And as crazy as it sounds, even labor and giving birth. 

As I type these things out, I feel selfish for how I have felt. There are so many precious children in this world that are just waiting for a loving family and here I am having a pity party for myself. But I have dreamed of being pregnant and having a healthy baby for so long, this change in our plans has left me feeling like I have lost something. And until this week I had no idea that is what was really going on.

I am so thankful for this epiphany because it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I can finally begin to emotionally and spiritually prepare myself for what is to come.

As we move forward in this journey, I ask for your continued prayers. Not only are we praying to grow our family in whatever way that may look like, we are also praying for on guidance on how to make adoption financially possible for our family. And once we step on the adoption roller coaster I know we will need lots love, support and understanding. You have no idea how much the prayers and support mean to us.