I'm a barefoot runner. I'm a woman. I live in one of the richest communities in the US. I feel safe when I leave my home. Every single time.

I am one of the few.

The living that I make does not afford me the level of comfort that I live in. I am truly blessed and have to remind myself daily to thank God for the blessings He keeps piling on my head. My income is well-below the level it should be for this area, yet I thrive here. When it comes down to it, I should be living in an area that would have me looking shifty-eyed at every person who passes me.

I run the Bethesda Trolley Trail, a beautiful trail that goes through neighborhoods of homes with people who drive Land Rovers and BMW SUV's. I run past people walking their dogs, a YMCA that costs $160/mo, a private Catholic school, a park, million-dollar homes, a prep school, Whole Foods. I see other runners, friends walking & chatting, and cyclists heading to work. I've never felt worried or scared while running.

Reading Runner's World this month, there is a story about a Ugandan man who was running and found a dozen kids sleeping under a bus to keep warm because their parents had all been shot. He took them in and paid for their care and food even though he had nothing. I think about what I would do in the same situation. I'm never going to find a dozen homeless children on any of my runs... most of the kids in my neighborhoods couldn't find Uganda on a map.

There are stories all the time about women who are kidnapped, raped, beaten, and left for dead in the woods while they were running in the dark. I run at 5:30 or 6am almost every day. I have never worried about someone jumping out at me while I'm running. I sometimes wonder what I would do if it happened but I'm typically thinking about my cadence and where my foot is landing.

I'm a woman. A tall one, but still a woman. I run in all black in the dark. I feel like a bit of a badass when I'm flying through neighborhoods in my Vibram FiveFingers. I do BodyCombat as a cross-training exercise but I doubt I'd ever be able to combat someone if they came at me. I'm strong but not that strong. I could run away but I'm not really that fast. I'm just a runner... a runner who is privileged enough to run in a safe neighborhood. It's a God thing, I know that. I thank Him every morning for the beautiful moon and the gorgeous sunrise... for the trees and the quiet spaces I get to softly run through.

I'm a woman. I feel safe when I leave my home. I'm a runner. I'm blessed. I'm safe.

But how can I help other women feel safe where they live? Even if it's unsafe. I'll have to work that out on my next run.

Hebrews 12:7 - Endure hardship as discipline...

Standing at my counter while I make dinner, sweat drips off the back of my hair and onto my neck. It's Monday night and I just finished a really hard BodyCombat class. On Thursday, I ran the Turkey Chase 10K in 56min with my friend, David (@dcborn61). On Saturday, Joshua & I ran a 4+mile hill run and on Sunday, we hiked Stony Brook Park (and by hiked, I mean, climbed a LOT of precarious stairs up to the top of a mountain so we could see the falls pictured here). My muscles ache, I really need a shower and I'm starving, but man, I feel incredible.

I'm inspired to do something.

Evernote reminded me that I had notes from last Sunday (thank you for the sync from my phone!) and after reading through them, I realized that this is something that is obviously on my heart. Pastor Todd (@swirlyfoot) gave a sermon at Church in Bethesda about the saints. He talked about the tough things they went through to become saints but they were never all talk. They had action behind their talk & endured hardship. The sermon was pointed at getting off our butts & doing something instead of just talking about it. Todd told us that each of us could be a saint in our own right if we stopped just formulating ideas and went out to put them into action.

My initial thoughts for this post were about formulating a plan for the next month to get off my butt and show myself what I'm made of physically. The verse above, Hebrews 12:7, is the beginning of a few verses (seriously, go read them) that talk about how God is our Father disciplines us for our own good and and how even when our earthly fathers have done the same, we've respected them. Being able to discipline ourselves to action allows us to correct our own paths.

MIND:
Based on what the Bible is saying here, I know I must discipline my thoughts, my words and my actions to make sure I am wholly good and holy for Him. If I can do that, I'll be wholly good to everyone around me. Being a Christian is so much more than just going to church on Sunday and praying over dinner. And although some of you may not agree with me, being a Christian isn't about just telling everyone that God will save them. Being a Christian is about being an upstanding member of your community in everything you do. It's about who you are when nobody is watching AND when everyone is watching. Finding myself standing here knowing that I'm a leader in my small community, I know it's time to correct my path.

I've always struggled with prayer and downtime. I've always had a hard time just quieting my mind. Running helps  me quiet my mind (we'll get to that next) but otherwise, I'm a million miles per hour in thought. Being able to refocus my thoughts will allow me to be a better Christian AND a generally better human to my community. Ever been around yogis? They're incredibly peaceful to everyone around them. Hmm... we'll see how this goes.
 
BODY:
This goes back to me sweating and feeling amazing yet painful after a few straight days of working out. I'm disciplining my body to do what I want it to and it's respecting me for it. For the last few years, I've been pushing myself to do more but then I fall into a comfortable pattern and end up working out only 3x a week.. maybe. This year, running has become something of an addiction for me but sometimes what I put in my body (fried food, alcohol, etc) doesn't allow me to have the drive to get up and run the next morning. While in this space, I always wonder (even though I know) why I can't break the barrier that shows me what I'm really capable of. In order for me to see results from this discipline of my body, I need to get off my butt and make it a reality.

If you repeat a behavior over and over, it becomes a habit.

My plan is to make these two behaviors good habits. Thanksgiving is now over and Christmas is on its way. These aren't insane plans for having a killer body or being a Christian saint, but they are simple actions that I want to become a part of my lifestyle, not just a phase.

4-WEEK NEW HABITS CHALLENGE:
MIND:
- commit to praying every morning & every evening
- commit to 15-min of quiet time for just reflection every day
- commit to being in bed by 11pm & waking up by 6am every day
- commit to tracking thoughts on paper daily

BODY:
- commit to 30-60min of exercise every day
- commit to eating & drinking only healthy
- commit to stretching every morning
- commit to tracking exercise on DailyMile.com daily

Now that I've written it down and said I'd do it, it's on. I'm ready... are you?
 

Vast cornfields, low-hanging fog, the occasional deer, more trees than even God can count, small dirty houses on 10 acres of land, a gravel company, an Irish golf course, an Amish farm, a tractor-trailer company, more cornfields, 15 cars in 8 miles… such a relaxing long run on a Friday morning. Western New York is ingrained my bones. It'll never leave.

Growing up in Western New York, I couldn't wait to leave. Now that I have been living elsewhere for almost 10 years, Western New York calls to me, especially when I'm stressed. It calls to me quietly but with such a strong and powerful force. The trees give way to cornfields that end at more trees. My feet hit the pavement at 7:15am in a place where sidewalks don't exist. The trails in the woods are hidden so I don't bother heading out under the tree cover for fear of getting lost. Just me, the open road and the rows and rows of corn.

Last night I sat on the enclosed porch with all the windows open listening to the crickets surrounding the house. Walking outside, it was so dark that every star was easily spotted in the black sky. There were no lights impeding their twinkling. There was nothing, aside from the sound of the occasional car and barking dog.

Today, the road and I were friends. We worked together to make sure I felt like I was flying. My Bikilas were gliding over the asphalt. My music was enlightening my cadence. The fog told me the sun was trying to break through. I watched for cars to make sure they saw me. I checked my breathing and made sure my stride was in check, my feet were touching down correctly. My body was a well-oiled machine. My mind was happy.

Around mile 4, I passed an Amish house and looked over to see a little boy about the age of four standing on his porch in black pants, bright blue button-down, suspenders and his pants open watering the flowers. It made me giggle and forget about the hill I was climbing. So unassuming… just taking my time while finding some interesting scenery. No thought to how my body felt, just knew I wanted to keep going.

At the end of my run, I saw my parents' house about half a mile away and knew it was time to make things happen. I kicked it into high gear, pushed my body past its limits and sprinted like I was heading for a finish line. I felt that amazing… like I could do anything. I finally understood what it felt like when people told me they wanted to just keep running.

Tonight, as my dad and I took my 2-year-old niece on a scooters/dirt bikes, we rode over to the Genesee River and sat in chairs covered in peeling paint and rust. I looked to my right to see Amish gentlemen fishing in the river in their full beards, black hats and bright blue shirts with suspenders on their black pants. Probably finding something delicious for dinner. Where else do you see that every day?

Western New York is peaceful. People drive slower, have less stress, enjoy life. They take in the scenery and force you to do so. I learned a lot from my run today… a lot about how I need to take in everything around me instead of always worrying about where my next step will take me. 

Written: Friday, August 5, 2011

by David, @dsklarin

There is a stigma regarding men talking about struggles with weight and healthy eating. I was hesitant to even write this post when Melanie requested that I guest-blog about the last few weeks. I believe that in life I can either save my ass or my face, usually not at the same time. So I choose to save my ass and to talk about it. I had let some friends know where I was at and that I could use some help. Asking for help also does not come easy for me. Here is my experience so far:

A funny thing happened a couple months ago...I found myself staring at myself in the mirror in the bathroom wondering what had happened. I now knew how my beloved Yankees must have felt after dropping 4 straight games to the evil Red Sox after being up 3-0 in the 2004 ALCS. I woke up and was genuinely horrified at what I saw. I was a fat guy again. How did this happen? Was this some nightmare that I couldn't wake up from?

See, a few years ago I was a REALLY big guy. Here is a picture of me with Aaron Boone (who hit the home run for my Yankees that knocked the aforementioned evil Red Sox out of the ALCS the year prior to the collapse of 2004). It wasn't so much that I was larger than life, I was UNHEALTHY. I grew up playing baseball and hockey and hiking. I was now sedentary...at a desk job, in a bad relationship and just unhappy in general. I hadn't even picked up my guitar or sang in over a year (if you know me at all you find this hard to believe right now).

On the way home from losing my job I received a call that my aunt had died. As I pulled up to my house there was a moving truck. My girlfriend was moving out and I was home early, having been laid off and all. BEST DAY EVER. That's not sarcasm, it's the truth. The job stunk, the relationship was not so great and my aunt was in a lot of pain. Jimmy Needham sings a song called "Hurricane" where he asks that all of the unnecessary things in his life get swept away like in a hurricane so he can focus on what is really important. That is what that day was for me.

I started on the breakup diet, aka not feeling like eating. A funny thing happened though - I started eating right - cooking all of my meals, not eating processed flour or any sugar that didn't occur naturally. I started running. I was at the gym almost daily. I prayed before meals giving thanks for the continued motivation and ability to be a good steward of the body that I had been given.

A year later I was running 5 miles a couple times a week. Want a real fistpump at the Jersey Shore??? Run 5 miles on the sand as the sun is coming up. If you don't feel like pumping your fists at that kind of overwhelming beauty then I think you're crazier than...well, a Red Sox fan or something. I was lifting at 5am 5 times a week. Here's a pic from about that time with a friend and a horse that my family owns: I was healthy and loving life.

And then last September I switched companies and was behind a desk again. I started to skip a day here and there at the gym. Then two days once in awhile. I didn't eat as well on those days, as my body didn't crave the same types of nourishment. It was too cold to run was what I allowed myself to believe. Then before I knew it I hadn't been to the gym in months. By mid-May of this year I was up 40 lbs. HOW did this happen? HOW could I have let this happen.

Two choices at this point - give up, believing the lie that I would always fail at this and hence why even try...OR, get back on the horse, listening to the truth that a temporary setback was all this was, if I wanted it to be.

Melanie asked me to write how I feel after a few weeks of not eating crap (have you ever heard her say the word "crap" with that Western NY accent? it's cutely funny). There's not much to tell - I feel like I am not craving things that are killing me anymore. I have not dropped much weight...yet, however 4 weeks is just the beginning of a restart of what I began in May of 2009.

I didn't agree to be a part of this food detox for vanity - I love how healthy FEELS. I crave that again. I want to have a family - to grow old with someone I love, to see kids graduate, get married and have kids of their own. An unhealthy lifestyle is more than inconvenient, it is the surest way to miss out on these things. I actually love eating healthy, I love exercising and I love being a good steward of the resources that I have been given. I view the detox as a "reset" button... like those old Nintendo 8-bit systems had... when the game was crap, you could hit that button and start over... So thank you, Melanie, for helping me restart something that I love.

Keep up on the progress at: 4 Week Detox

Last year I hosted a series called I Can't Cook & So Can You. We got a ton of great recipes that were quick and easy thanks to all the helpful people who submitted posts.

Now while doing the #4weekdetox, I've found that I eat a lot more fruit and snack on bad things a lot less but am really craving vegetables. I know I need them in my diet but I hate the taste of most of them. Force-feeding isn't helping so I am looking for some great summer recipes that are easy. 

Do you have a favorite summer recipe that's quick, easy and healthy? It has to be veggie-heavy. Send it over and help me figure out how to eat healthier without choking on broccoli. Now that I've got a fridge & freezer packed with healthy ingredients, I've decided to start writing about what I make. I honestly hate cooking. I haven't found a blog about a cook who hates cooking, only those who love it but want to teach others how to do it. I don't want to teach anyone, I just want to share my trials & errors with you all so if you want something simple to cook, here you go.

Submit Your Recipe

Did you find a great veggie recipe (or accidentally make one up) that you want to share? Send it to me! Submit your info on my contact form & I'll email you my contact info so you can send me your post, recipe & link (if you have one) for your website/blog. I'd love to share it!

Can't wait to start getting other recipes!

 Melanie, The Simple 'Cook'

by Annie Lynsen

Look at this girl with huge, frizzy hair, oversized glasses, and that special, awkward grin only adolescence and a mouthful of braces can bring. That was me in junior high - the typical, awkward teen.

Astonishingly, I didn't get a lot of dates then. I wasn't one of the "pretty-pretties" - the popular girls, the cheerleaders. In retrospect my body was pretty amazing - I was a dancer, and didn't surpass 110 pounds until high school - but I hated that I was built like a Skipper doll, with no boobs and no hips. My skin was pale to the point where my mom begged me to wear blush so I "wouldn't look dead."

But one day in my mid-teens I was reflecting on the story of the ugly duckling, and made a decision to put mind over matter. I was going to tell myself that I was the most gorgeous, fascinating thing that walked the earth, and my own positivity would attract others and make me "date-able."

It actually worked. Suddenly I found it a bit easier to make friends and started getting a date here and there. I was more confident, or at least appeared to be. What people may not have realized was that my "ego" was just a facade covering a shaking, anxious, insecure self-image, desperate for approval from her peers.

But even though I'm well beyond my awkward phase, I still default to vanity-disguising-deep-insecurity mode, feeding off compliments and other people's perceptions of my body to determine my self-worth.

Not that I haven't tried to build legitimate confidence in my how I look. I work out five times a week, and women's magazines always say that physical exercise makes you feel better about your body, by getting you to focus on the things it can DO as opposed to the way it looks. But they always say that in the same breath as a headline that screams "Get flat abs now!" And when I'm gritting my teeth on the elliptical trainer, I can't say I'm mentally marveling at how my arms can go back and forth at the same time as my legs…I'm more focused on hoping the torture will be over soon.

And the reason I spend 30 minutes, five days a week torturing myself in the gym is because, like most women, I went through the inevitable post-college weight gain that led to the inevitable post-weight-gain obsession with diet and exercise. I find myself fixated on my own body shape and size to the point of obnoxiousness, especially in the summer. Not because summer brings swimsuit season, but because summer brings…SCI-FI CONVENTIONS.

Yes, I'm a big nerd, and I love to dress up like science fiction characters. But as part of my body complex, I intentionally choose a skimpy or tight costume months ahead of convention season, then use the costume as motivation to keep to a strict diet and exercise regimen. To my friends' and coworkers' annoyance, I spend months openly worrying about looking bad in a costume I myself chose to wear. (I'm amazed I have any friends left, honestly.) But despite all the crap I put myself and others through, getting positive reactions at conventions is priceless to me. Having people ask to take my picture while I'm in costume, telling me how great I look…it feeds my soul in ways I can't describe.

I know I'm not supposed to define myself by how others see me, but darn it, I'm human, and I'll admit that when someone unexpected says I'm beautiful or flirts with me, it quiets the stirring monster of self-doubt inside my brain for a few minutes.

It's not wrong to enjoy compliments - in fact, it sucks when somebody responds to a compliment with self-deprecation. But I should focus on building my confidence more from within than without. So by way of this blog post, I pledge I will try. Bit by bit, I will start reminding myself that I'm about more than my looks, and that I don't need compliments to feel good about myself. The frizzy-haired teen I once was is gone now, and even if I still yearn for bigger boobs, higher cheekbones, a tighter butt, smaller thighs, and six-pack abs, I don’t need to put on a mask for people to like me.

I hope.

by Jennifer

My name is Jennifer. I also hate my body.

That is, I hate my body until I REMEMBER.

Let me explain… I’m at this fragile state in my life. My self esteem seems to always be on a precipice. I am a 38 year old woman who’s body is beginning to betray her by falling apart. Grey hair has begun to make an entrance. Wrinkles now appear. And cellulite? Oh yeah. It is there. It is SO there.

I’ve struggled with body image issues since the age of 12. That is the year I first got my period and very rapidly grew breasts. (Much to the excitement of every middle school boy and to the chagrin of every middle school girl.) Sad to say but from that point on I was painfully aware of every female inadequacy that I possessed. Isn’t that sad?

I can count on one hand the number of times in my life where I felt confident and comfortable in my own skin. My body has never fit into society’s ideal image. And I have been keenly aware of that fact all of my life. It seems I have always been ill at ease with this body.

That is, until I remember what this body is capable of.

· This body has miraculously and safely birthed two healthy babies. It didn’t let me down. It is strong.

· This body has resisted major diseases and illnesses and way too many all-nighters. It is steadfast.

· This body has endured two marathons, countless half-marathons and one ridiculous 182 mile relay. It endures.

My body is not perfect. I am not anywhere near where I want to be. Intellectually I know that I am a beautiful, healthy, intelligent woman but in my mind’s eye, well, let’s just say there is a disconnect.

The challenge for me then is to not allow my body, my insecurities and my appearance become idols that take the place of God. It is when we remember the bigger picture and live a life of worship, putting God first, that there is freedom, joy, and peace.

Peace.

Being at peace with your body. Isn’t that a novel thought?

Just like with other aspects of life, when I lose sight of what my body was truly built for and instead focus on what society dictates, I become shackled to neurosis and chained to insecurity.

When I remember what this body is capable of and what it's greater purpose is, I gain a new perspective and I live free.

Watching little girls run through a sprinkler on a hot summer day in adorable pink bathing suits with no shame makes me shameful.

Hi, my name is Melanie. I hate my body.

Growing up, I was always much taller than the other kids… and much thinner. This was terrifying in high school because I was just awkward and… too tall. I was so skinny that in 6th grade, I had already hit 6' tall but hadn't yet hit 100lbs. Models are that size - makes me sick. I couldn't gain weight.

I noticed that even after college I got a little more curvy but stayed thin. You would think I'd start loving the body I was blessed with but I struggled with it. I wanted what I didn't have, like so many women. I wanted curves, I wanted to be short, I wanted muscles, I wanted boobs - all things I couldn't seem to get, no matter what I did. Looking back, there were so many women that would have wanted my body especially since I didn't have to work at it.

When I was 25, I was a size 6, had been building muscle, was doing the Abs Diet to teach myself how to eat healthy. Out of nowhere, I started feeling terrible pain and was diagnosed with a stress disorder that, I was told, was only held at bay by eating foods that were not touched by the sun. Because I had been eating so healthy, it was triggered along with the stress I was under. This meant no wheat, soy, most fruit or veggies, no chocolate or peanut butter, nothing healthy… nothing. I put on 20 lbs in 6mo and started hiding my body. At 27, I was up to 165 and felt terrible every day. I lost all my energy and just got into a continuous cycle. Few people noticed the weight gain since 20 lbs spreads out on a 6' frame but I could feel it. Sitting down, wearing jeans, putting on anything remotely tight was just torture. I hid inside myself and just stopped caring.

In early 2008, I caught a running bug. I felt better, little by little. I lost weight quickly and reduced my stress greatly. Races & goals were set, training and pushing my limits allowed me to see what I could do. Every time I hit a goal, I would feel strong and confident. My clothes stopped being loose and started showing the results of my athleticism. I projected the confidence that I so badly wanted. They say that if we exude confidence in ourselves, others will want to be close to us. My body confidence is and always has been an act.

Hi, my name is Melanie. I hate my body.

I am 6' tall, 152lbs, getting harder, tighter and stronger by the week. I am training for a half marathon that happens to be the day before my 30th birthday and the only reason I'm doing it is so I can look back at pictures of myself at 30 and say that I looked damn good. I am doing it for all the wrong reasons.

Every week I see more results from the 5+ days a week I'm either pounding a trail or hitting the gym. I see my shoulders getting tighter, I hear compliments on how much better I look, I feel the confidence I never had before because I was either too skinny or too fat for what I wanted to be.

All I see in the mirror are all the things I need to fix. My stomach, my love handles, the dimpled fat on the back of my legs, the backfat hanging over my bra, the things that NO one else will ever notice. I don't look at how I've strengthened my legs, I just see what I need to improve. I don't look at how I lack the double chin I had, I see that I have it when I smile too hard in pictures. I don't look at how strong my arms are getting, I just see the fat on the back of them that I need to lose. Every day I think about how I should be on a stricter diet, how I shouldn't drink because of the calories, how I shouldn't eat snacks because they're unhealthy. I am in an unending cycle and can't seem to get out of it.

Hi, my name is Melanie. I hate my body.

My entire life, I've felt like I needed someone to tell me I'm beautiful so I could feel beautiful. I don't have the pain of having parents who didn't tell me - they did! They still do. I am the critical woman in the mirror. I know I am strong-willed - I'm a business owner. I know I have what it takes to make things happen - I connect people every day. I know that I have confidence - I speak at impromptu events where people need to learn from me. I am a strong, incredible woman with a lot to offer… yet I can't seem to figure out how to run without the narcissistic reasoning.

I am changing my way of thinking - just by saying this to whoever is reading. My new goal is to hit the gym & run, not to look better naked or in my bathroom mirror, but to find the confidence in my body that I am so greatly lacking. Not to be thinner, not to lose weight, but to be more disciplined. I am also realizing that my discipline will need to carry over into the other parts of my life… but more on that next time.

If you take anything from this, realize that you are an incredible woman. No matter what you've been told, no matter what you think about yourself. You are what God made you to be and if you're living that 'you', you're exactly what you should be. Love it. Once you love yourself, others will want to be close to you.

Hi, my name is Melanie. I will start loving my body.

A day of rest is something everyone needs and my training allows me to start with that. As part of Team Run Faster, I was one of the few lucky runners to get into the 2010 Cherry Blossom 10-miler. This is my second year running this race and I am proud to be allowed into it.

Eight weeks until the race, my training schedule is setup and I am ready to start getting into a rhythm. My training coincides with Lent - I've decided to give up sugar for the 40 days so I can focus on what is needed in my faith along with this race. I gave up sugar 2 years ago before I started hitting the pavement and lost 8 lbs along with a serious sweet tooth. This year I hope to gain focus and lose insecurities with my faith.

I recently trained for the Cloud/Snapple Half but wasn't consistent with my training and ended up skipping the race altogether. I don't fail often and not showing up is a huge failure for me. I hope the Cherry Blossom will allow me some victory.

The 4' of snow we accumulated recently is hindering my ability to run outside, which has always allowed me to get out a lot of frustration, focus on my music and push myself up and down hills. The treadmills just don't cut it but hopefully I can make it a challenge and get myself excited about jumping on one.

It's time... time to start running, time to get ready for bathing suit season and time to show myself I can beat last year's time. It's time to beat my inner demons, show myself I can get up at 6:30 every day and give myself the focus to spend time with God in these early morning sessions. I'm ready to kick some serious butt - mine.