Weddings

Today is the 19th anniversary of having married the King of Athletics of the Central Highlands.

 In my Trash the Dress session, wearing my wedding dress, 13 years after said wedding day.  It captures a look only a few people would understand.

Right now, today, I'm not happy with the King.  I'm not unhappy either, in reality, I'm completely indifferent.  I don't hate him, I don't like him.  I don't want to get back together, and I don't want to spend time with him.  We do have a house that is for sale that I am anxious to sell...as I miss being me.  In my own home, with my sentimental treasures that were packed away 18 months ago.

Ohhhhhh I miss my books.

 

Only part of my library.  The pure comfort in just looking at this photo-how I miss my library!!

It's been 18 months since the divorce and staging the house to sell...and the house has not yet sold.  My clothes are out, a few paintings are out...but I'm in Mesa, and I miss my home.  My things.  Silly, isn't it?

 

And I'm aching to reread a few favorites that are packed!!

So it's technically the anniversary of my wedding, but I'm not supposed to reminisce.

Yeah, right.

 

It's perfectly acceptable to remember this day, and this guy, and the wonderful memories associated with it because he died.

 

But wearing this dress and marrying that guy?

Not acceptable.

And interestingly enough, I never in 17 years of marriage (during which I was on Facebook for eight of them) did I ever upload a wedding photo of the King and I.

Isn't that telling?

Our wedding day was wonderful-I had a terrible head cold but I was so happy.  We married in the morning, and had an evening flight to Arizona - and we were upgraded to first class when they found out it was our wedding day.  In fact, the car rental place upgraded us, as did the Ritz Carlton in Phoenix.  

Huh.  Our first night of marriage was in Arizona, as was our last.  Interesting.

I was happy because I was no longer widowed.  Marriage to the King?  Sigh.

It was difficult.  Even when we were engaged.

 

He gives these things to Guippy...but never did to me.  It's a common comment that if he had treated me like he does his dog we'd still be married.

For 17 years I tried, and then I just gave up.

I still feel guilty.  I gave up on him.  I admit-I couldn't take it any longer.  For 17 years I poured into a Christian marriage...and nothing changed.  I was told to change.

And I have.

After I left.

 

This girl:)

As I prepare to embark on an epic journey of crazed solo camping and road trips through places I've not seen (oh yes, prepare for the over blogging to come) I realize he was right:  I did need to change.

But so did he.

Relationships that work accept the changes in each other...help each other through them.  There is gentle guidance, not harsh demands.

 He never told me this until after the divorce...and I couldn't believe him then as I no longer loved him.

Today, I look back on a day that was wonderful-the day a widow was a bride.

 In a filthy fuselage and soooo delighted.  Next time I marry, it'll be in Piestewa Peak in a pretty short white dress and minimus...or so goes the daydream that gets me through rotten hikes, terrible first dates and lonely nights.

On that day, more than anything-I had hope.

Hope for a new beginning, and the end of the sadness that had plagued me for two years.

Hope that Abbie would have a true daddy, and for more children.

Hope for happiness...and a love to last my lifetime.

Three out of six really isn't that bad....

 The Virgin Bride, 21 and naive.

 The Saucy Divorcee, 45 and needing to scratch the adventure itch.

I remember waking up at 22-23 years old, thinking how lucky I was to have such a life with the Knight.  His illness and death I did my best to handle...just like I'm trying now to handle unexpected singlehood.  The difference this time?

Last time, I saw marriage as the antidote to my sorrows.  This time?  

Remembering my wedding day, I see the signs of impending hardship.  I see the stubborn streak that kept me trying for so long.  But most of all I see a young widow, desperately seeking love.

It's not bad recalling a wedding day after a divorce.

Not when it shows you what to avoid the next time.  Not when I reveals the truth.  Not when it helps you see that now, more than ever, you have to be happy to just be me.

 I had to bail on Camelback yesterday...so today I'm heading to Piestewa.

 It's not though, sooooo....

Next week, on the 21st anniversary of the Knight's death, I'm taking off on an adventure.

Just me.

I have no 9-5 job (just Ride, and I can do that anywhere), no boyfriend and the kids are finishing th school year with their dad.  It's time I make sure I am healthy body, soul and mind....

So the next time I stand across from someone?  At a wedding up on a Peak? (Teehee!!! It's a pipe dream but it's MY pipe dream!!)  I'll be doing it for only one reason-to join my life's adventure with him.  Not for my happiness, or to end being a divorcee.  Not to just be married, or have someone in my life.  But to explore the life and changes together, however they may occur.

Next time? It's for keeps.

 Right here.  Those who sow in tears shall reap in joyful singing. Ps. 126:5

The Approval Addiction

I read a fascinating article on the addictive natures of technology this morning...

 While I only caught Manchild looking at his, all three girls also have a phone in their hands.

I'm addicted, too.  I first noted it many, many years ago, when I worked online remotely for 12 years.  I was in a LOST forum, and the desire to read community responses pulled at me.  I recalled earlier Survivor forums with the same pull - and promptly left the boards.  I had a business to build, and they were distracting.

Then came Facebook.

 My current window I offer to the world.

Let's check out that window, shall we?  

First, it's Easter week.  My cover is a nod to that, as I am a Christian and quite honestly, the only Man who has ever rescued me was Him.  Through all the trials with people, I have never questioned Christ's sacrifice for me and God's love and plan for my life.  I do question how to present that to the world, and wish for change in the church...yet I don't know where in the church I belong.

Second, I so love to have fun.  My profile is me eating an ice cream sundae in the all pink SugarBowl in Scottsdale.  I'm wearing a pretty dress (my preferred outfit!) and I've just come from a fundraiser for the arts.  Very, very me.

Third, I'm an entrepreneur.  Currently a bit lost of an entrepreneur, but one nonetheless.  The quote, my two businesses...I want to help people by helping them make money.

The addiction?

See that red notification of "2" at the bottom?

How Technology is Hijacking Your Mind explains notifications and phone addictions as a "slot machine"-you want to see what you got.

Bingo.

It's like texting someone and seeing their name pop up on the screen--it's the "what if" they responded in the affirmative to your request/attention?  That thrill of possibly winning...it's very addicting.  For me?  It's all about approval.  Acknowledging anything...I crave it.  

It's also my biggest tripping point.

Two years ago I invented a time machine.  In it, I identified how to go back in time and identify what consistently trips you up in life.  Mine was desperately seeking approval.  It was rooted in being tall and gangly as a child, coupled with my ENTJ/sanguine nature.  

Me.  Three.  The best age, of course:)

 

 Me, age 35.  Enjoying a pirate museum somewhere in the Caribbean.

In my career with lia sophia, I tried desperately to be humble, and not seek approval.  The fact they paraded the successful?  I didn't like it-as I knew it bred contempt from others.  Eventually, jealousies grew as my income increased and rumormongers caused problems...when none of the rumors were true.  Staying silent and not addressing them only added fuel, and the hurts compounded.  Thus the "like" on a feed soothed the soul a bit...my subordinates may have not liked me, but my fifth grade friend on Facebook did!

The company closed in December 2014, and I suffered a severe head injury that same week.  I took on a $13/hr job, and stopped wearing my Tag Heuer watch. My marriage crumbled, and I moved to another job, albeit within my degree field.  As my successes there piled up, I found myself unceremoniously dumped when I became unwitting competition for the director.  I found another job, and set forth to excel...but was quickly bored.  In government, you move at the pace of the slowest.

So I decided to open a company...and franchise it.  

 

Oh, I do love Ride.  I truly do.

Recently, I made the decision to make the Phoenix region my new home.  Our marital home in Prescott had not yet sold, and I still contribute to the mortgage as I lived there up until six weeks ago.  It was then my ex and I switched living spaces, me taking over his Mesa apartment he shared with our 21 year old junior in college daughter, aka The Commander.  Now where I live in May is before me, the ex's lease is up and with the house not sold I'm certainly NOT moving back in with him. Add in I'm daily working on Ride and lately it's been a challenge--this is not work for the weak, and I'm doing it myself.

No wonder I seek approval from random strangers.

My addiction?  Approval.

Not over eating, not alcohol.  No drugs for me, no binge exercise.  Just simply approval.

And that can be dangerous when dating, as you can fall easily for a man who wants just your company for an evening, and not for life.

Sooooooo many times I'd like to send this:)

I've had the rebound and I've fallen in love since my divorce.  I've had my heart broken, and now wiser I realize so much of 2016 was a desperate search for approval.  I missed obvious signs because of it, and so I've taken a step back in 2017.

Slowing down.

Being patient.

Enjoying right now.

Because the approval I seek?  It's a tripping point.

 Where as notices like this?  Ride was birthed from it.

The need for instant approval can trick you-make you think there's something there that is not.  Likewise, online approval (while nice) needs to be seen as any other form of self-medication:  something that needs moderation and control.  This blog doesn't really bring that; 3-5 likes for 250+ reads definitely is proof I write it as a way to be accountable to myself for my fitness health (both body & soul!) While I admit Facebook needs to be shut off more than not, this blog has brought consistency to my exercise regime, and consistency to my writing.  

 So...the hat???  Is it seeking approval?

Last fall, I fell for an army colonel who accidentally left a hat with me after a date, and then ghosted immediately thereafter.  It broke my heart; the hat just rebroke it when I'd come across it.  Ever one to make lemons out of lemonade, I decided to take it on an adventure, and brush up on Instagram in the process (as a social media trainer, I also knew the business portion was new and the algorithms had changed.) I heavily debated The Colonel's Hat Instagram page as being good or bad for me...but as the smiles come in and it resonates with many, I find tremendous healing has occurred.  I also have to admit it gave me wonderful new perspective on that relationship-that the six weeks of nonstop calls and hours on the phone before our first meeting hid consequential signs he was likely seeing more girls than just me, and that my falling in love was the reason he left without a goodbye.  Rushing into that relationship blinded my senses...all because I was desperate for approval.  In writing the captions for the photographs I finally could see what drove him away...and I came to better understand me in the process.  Months into it now, with over 200 followers, I'm keeping it up not for approval--but as a platform for laughter and social media skills.  

Is this self denial?  I just justified the blog and the Instagram accounts:)  What I can't deny?

Time and Focus.

That has to change.

 

It's hard being a historian sometimes.

Right now, in this moment, I am facing a "what if" like no other:  Can I set out on an adventure designed to reset my tripping point?

Just yesterday, I told a friend the only regret we usually have is when we don't do something.

 I will never, ever regret taking these two to Disney:)

So do I go?

I'm leaning towards yes.

 

Because the only "what if" I can change is the one in front of me right now....

I've often said it, but I've yet to do it.

 

Slowing WAY Down

It worked.

Again.

 Top of Thumb Butte, steep side climb, with no breathlessness.

Not only could I breathe, with my mouth closed, I didn't have an asthma attack.  I never had to stop.  I never had to gulp water-in fact, I didn't even get thirsty.

I'm still in shock...as I then ran the entire 1.4 miles down.

Also without stopping.  Also without losing my breath.  Also without asthma.  Also without walking.

I've never held a sustained run for over a mile without walking.

Ever.

In my entire life.

 This is Andy the Plott Hound:). His owner snapped the picture at my request (of course it's for the Colonel's Hat...can you imagine the hashtags from #plotthound, #hound #humanesociety #opttoadopt etc?!?)

So the theory is I can climb whatever I want if I go extremely slow.  Like so slow a granny will pass you.

Trust me.  Plenty of granny's did.

Today I decided to act the fool and pretend I was walking a tightrope up Thumb Butte, deliberately placing one foot closely in front of the other, and move at a snail's pace.

It was rather humiliating.

I was passed so many times, and twice people stopped to ask if I was ok!?!

 This girl?!?  This girl ok?!?

Besides feeling embarrassed?  I was fine.

Absolutely fine.

I climbed the steep side of Thumb Butte for the very first time without stopping, without losing my breath, without an asthma attack, without having to motivate myself, without using my inhaler.

Never, never, never give up.

Two years ago-this was my goal.  I never attained it-even at my most fit, as I truly was exactly two years ago.

 On Grandview Trail, the Grand Canyon.

Two years ago I banged out that hike, twenty pounds or so lighter than I am now.  Five days later, I broke my right hand...and I could not do a hard hike without poles.  Hence the end of hard hikes, and quite honestly, the beginning of the end of my marriage.

As my hand refused to heal over the next six months (and rebroke two more times) and the last vestiges of married love crumbled, my struggles with exercise compounded.  Multiple attempts to find anything that worked failed, failed again, and failed again.

 

Twelve days ago.  Three asthma attacks.  Rocks thrown.  Frustration at all time high with my body and its inability to adapt to ANY form of exercise.

Today?

Today I checked off an exercise goal TWO YEARS after I established it.  Twelve days after desperately wanting to give up, I have confirmation that I possibly have an answer.

 

The test.  From my window I glance up and see what could ultimately prove my theory.  Granite.  #261. My feet are a bit banged up...blisters from wearing cute shoes yesterday, and one from today's run down.  The next two days have Birthday and Ride obligations, so I'm thinking Saturday.

For the last two years, I've whined about wanting a partner.  The last six months have proved to me I'm better without one when it comes to exercise.

 Yesterday I begged Ered to edit for me again, he politely declined (but still brought me lilacs!  Forever my favorite flower!)  Maybe I'm overthinking the mentor thing?

Is the answer to all the obstacles I'm facing to slow down?  Methodically pace myself through each on?

That's so not me.

Ever.

I like making quick and decisive decisions.

I hate conflict, and quick usually ends such things.  Or escalates it?  Fast is better, right?

 

Well, this dessert was better savoured...

Slowing way down.

Goodness.

Trust the rebel heart and ride slowly into battle?  Well, it is the road less travelled....

And I'm always about that road less travelled...

 

They do reward you with views like this, so...

Waiting.  Moving slowly.  Cautiously, or just with quiet patience.

But still moving forward.

Not the answer I expected?

(I've tried to download a photo of me in scarlet and grey SEVEN TIMES and it refuses to load.  Really!!)

At this point I wouldn't put it past me to someday actually say "I-O."

Slowing down.  I'm scared I'll be bored....but maybe it's what I need to figure out the right path.

The road less travelled.

Here I go.

Slowing Down

"This might kill me," I told Ian, charging up to the left on #33 on Wednesday morning's Thumb Butte hike.

I was so tired of asthma attacks and not being able to breath.  Just once I longed for a hike that tested my strength, not my feeble lungs.

 Piestewa Peak, Phoenix Mountain Preserve

Ian charged ahead as always; in a way I was grateful as I'd come to love hiking by myself.  I liked not having to match anyone else's pace, and I loved my music.  The time of thoughtful reflection had helped so much in th past few months; when I stopped to catch my breath I ruefully thought that hiking alone also meant no one saw your struggles.

"You know, it's not a race."  Ian was sitting at the first bench, waiting for me to catch up.  I stopped to swig water, having already taken a second hit off the inhaler.  I laughed, knowing he was going to jump up and start without me catching my breath.  Sure it's not a race.

But what if it wasn't?

 The steps to the trail:)

I got back to the valley that night, and spent Thursday catching up.  Waking early this morning, I felt the pull.

 Looks easy, doesn't it?  It's a trap!

I was out the door before the clock struck six, just as the sun broke over the horizon.  I decided on a Piestewa summit; as much as I've been contemplating a circumference it's long...and I'd actually like to have a partner on that for the first time.  In the car I took my vitamins (doctor ordered) and realized I hadn't had coffee.  Then I saw the brown box.

Did you know I've had companies fly me to both Florida and California this year trying to recruit me as a field leader?  In the box was Extreme by YouLab.  An energy supplement in berry...I figured it was a good idea.  I dumped a packet in a water bottle and drank it down.  Tasty:)

The light was beautiful, and I couldn't help but take pictures.  Rocks are my passion, so it's a natural obsession to take photos of them...

 They call this a "trail."

 I chased the sun as it rose.

Slowly, very slowly, I put one foot closely in front of the other.

I told myself I was meandering.

My headphones started squawking, and I shut them off knowing the battery was almost dead.

Ugh.  No music motivation.  10 minutes in.

Slowly I climbed.  My heart rate escalated slightly, my breathing I willed to control.

Slow.

Very slow.

"On your left!" was heard repeatedly.

 

Sadly, it was never Captain Rogers!!!

20 minutes passed, and I was breathing fine.

Then another 20 passed.

 Laying down on the job:)

I stopped then and posted a status...I've posted many while in the midst of despair.  Victory had to have equal time...even before I made the top of the Peak.

I had broken the code.

Slow.

Down.

Reaching the summit at the 1 hr mark was fulfilling.  There was no high, no elation.  I found my rocky perch and surveyed the land.

 

 I flipping adore Phoenix.

As I sat and texted, the familiar whup-whup of a chopper came from the left.  Not a police helicopter, but a black one with no markings.  I grinned in glee as the pilot angled in and buzzed us; waving to the smiling camouflaged soldier waving back at me.  Another hiker and I exchanged glances.

"That's so cool!" We said simultaneously, delighted our spontaneous fly-by.  Turning my Strava app back on, I gingerly climbed down from my perch.  I was determined to give the downward route my best effort, and set off.

33:34

😎

Now that's a time I can improve on with experience:)

In life, I'm finding more and more slowing down is a fine thing.  In other things, speeding up is better.

On Piestewa?  Looks like I can have the best of both worlds.

 Thankful for my padded backside😂😂😂

Figuring out I can breath if I go slower?

A miracle.

I'm finally getting somewhere.

Bucket List

Ah, the bucket list.

 Mine...in a way.

To many, a bucket list is simply things they wish to do before they die.

Me?  Well, I'm gonna live forever, first off.  No death for me....!!!

Secondly...

 

Because of this, I don't wish.

The last six days I was prepping our house in Prescott for sale.  I get to the valley last night, and go hear my friend Jay play at an open mic night.

 

Adore this PhD.

We talked about my impending permanent move here, and of history, of course.

He keeps encouraging me to revisit that old dream of teaching history.  Finish my Master's and teach at the community college level, he says.

It's tempting.

He fills my head with talk of history and the humanities...oh, how I love them both.  Add art I'm passionate about and you can see why I must fulfill the ultimate goal of being a philanthropist.  I must support these things....but first?

A list.  Of steps to take to achieve goals...a bucket list of "must do's." 

Like getting healthy.

 

Do I have to?!?!!

I went to Prescott and did NOTHING.

 

My app got all passive aggressive with me.  Pissy little thing.  Proof what "motivates" others has the opposite effect on me...and likely the rest of the 80%.

 Well, I did hike Thumb Butte in a 50 minute round trip loop with Ian.  Yes, we went his way.  After two years of hiking together, it's inevitable we're going up the steep side and he'll be 40 paces ahead.

Why didn't I do my HIIT workoutS?  #1?  No place to workout.  The house was a disaster as we packed and cleaned at the same time.  #2?  I just couldn't.

Isn't that the same philosophy we apply to bucket lists?    No time/place/money.  No willpower to make it happen.

I hiked with Ian only because we had planned it the week before.  (You know, when I exercised daily and sometimes twice a day:)  The appointment to show up yesterday I nearly cancelled (final touches to the house) but I did it as a partner was waiting.

Partnership.  Now that's a book, not another blog...😳😜

The week before, I had no distractions of a massive job on a tight schedule.  Although I had a very full week, there were little distractions from others...and what a massive difference that makes.  This time of my life is a precious gift-it's a time of resetting.  Creating new habits to reach new goals.

My bucket list?  It's a bit different.  I don't hope or wish for these things to happen.  I have to plan, prepare and work to make them so.

I can't wait.

Katie's Bucket List

Circa 2017

1. Establish Ride as a franchisable business.
2. Learn to play the piano
3. Run up & down Thumb Butte, then Piestewa Peak, then Camelback.
4. Stay at Phantom Ranch
5. Go back to Europe without a toddler (this one has been on my list for 20 years.  I find it interesting that said toddler is going for the third time!)
6. Epic road trip of the Lower 48 hitting every National Park and as many brown signs as possible.
7. Alaska ONLY so I can say I did all 50 states...
8. Ma's house in Dorchester, Mass, Greene, ND and Effingham, IL for family history.
9. Kentucky Derby, baby
10. Any chapel/churches in Europe my ever so great grandparents worshipped in.
11. Australia
12. Hot Air Balloon Ride
13. Speak in front of a crowd of 5000...then 50,000:)

That's it...for now:). Reads far more like a list of goals...and I'm ok with that.  

At least in business goals I'm in the 20%

❤️

Brake Lights

It's gonna be awhile.

 It's only going to be 500 calories. Really.

So I broke the fast food rule because I was hungry, I don't want to wait until Prescott and I'm trying to be proactive.

Really.

There is a method to my madness.

I was rather mad when I took this.  Strange.  I don't look as mad as I felt.

That was not a good day, but it wasn't a bad day as the good that did happen outweighed the bad.

Am I confusing you yet?

 Spring in Phoenix.

I had woke up before 6, as I often do.  I did my HIIT training and grabbed my coffee, thinking how awesome it would be to get in a run early.  I left shortly after 7am, thinking nothing of the 25 minute drive to Dreamy Draw.

Except it was 50.

 Not my photo, but accurate.

Rush Hour.  The nemesis of all workers in major cities, and I had fallen as its prey.  So that hit I took off the inhaler when I left?  My guess is it was not effective when I got there.  So the first asthma attack wasn't too much of a surprise.  The second two-tenths of a mile later?

 Not only unexpected, but utterly maddening.

I threw rocks.

Hard.

I might have yelled while doing so.....😳

No one was around.  I sat on the side of the trail (in a bunch of prickers.  Took me two minutes to pluck them all off when I stood up) and banged out a Facebook post on quitting.  According to my own rules, I had to quit after a second asthma attack.

I didn't.

I was a half mile in, and I couldn't bear the thought of turning around.  Instead I figured I'd head back by following the trail.  At the crossroads of 200 I turned left and up instead of right and back to the car.  I was too mad...I so desperately needed a workout.

     It was helpful to angrily throw a hat, too. 😎

As I sat to catch my breath once again, I decided to keep going.  I had the inhaler with me.  I had had terrible night shakes two nights in a row, a sure sign of undealt with physical stress.  I had to exercise, hard.

So I tried running again.

And I had my third asthma attack.

Full blown.

As I cried in frustration, I spun around looking for a place to sit on the rocky terrain.

And saw this:

 

And immediately thought this:

"I will lift up my eyes to the hills—From whence shall my help come?  My help comes from the Lord, Who made heaven and earth." (Ps 121:1-2)

My panic dissolved as I turned my cry to the Lord, and my spirit counseled my soul.

"But those who wait for the Lord [who expect, look for, and hope in Him] shall change and renew their strength and power; they shall lift their wings and mount up [close to God] as eagles [mount up to the sun]; they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint or become tired." (Is. 40:31)

Gulping water as I used to do the many years before the inhaler, I felt the tightness loosen and the indrawing cease.  Walking slowly, I sought comfort in prayer, tears pouring unabashedly down my cheeks.  In those moments, surrounded by the mountains I love in the state I adore, with wildflowers blooming and sunshine streaming about me...I had my answer.

Tears of frustration turned from sorrow to joy as I saw clearly for the first time the purpose in this struggle.  As I neared the precipice of the ridge, I felt my lungs stabilize....they always do, around 20-30 minutes in.  It's like they finally decide to open up, and act like everyone else's lungs.  

So I ran.

My best split was 12:38.  But this was my terrain.

 The joy it is to run this is indescribable.

And let's be honest-it was pretty much flat or downhill at this point, too:)

 

So love Arizona.

I got to the car exhausted, and enjoyed the now-rush-hour-free quick drive home.  

The shower I took was among the best of my life.

It had been a terrible run, but I had survived.  As I got ready for the day (and my hair gave me fits) I contemplated the purpose I felt I had discovered.  Lunch with the Buckeye brought up how we had come to Arizona, and it drew me back to thoughts of purpose.  The desire to live here started when I was 15, and took 24 years to accomplish.

I'm moving to the Valley.

The next day in Prescott, I was delighted by the lush outburst of new leaves and blossoms.  Love for my adopted hometown washed over me, but my heart's message was strong:  it was time to head to Phoenix.

 

I have been given the greatest gift of time the past two months.  My life has been incredibly blessed, especially now.  Every heart wish, every "what if I could only" has come to pass.

It is not a coincidence that it coincides with better choices, and a desire to first seek God.

 

Look!  A tiara.....:)

This is my "life verse"-not my favorite but the one I know I always must go back to.  I think of it often, along with a sermon I heard in Florida.  At one time my life was devoted to seeking Him; my sister's suicide, compounded by the loss of several Christian friends and a complete mistrust of what a "Christian marriage" is had lead me to maintain my relationship with God, and distrust nearly all His followers down here.

I'm kinda getting over it.  Slowly.

God and I never had an issue with one another.  My fellow Christians?  I've struggled.  In my struggles, I did less.

Brake lights.

Whether I had hit the brakes due to those around me, or a halt because of my struggles, it matters not.  In the end, I kept my faith simply because I did not quit.

The run wasn't fun.  But to have discovered a purpose?

Worth it all.