Tough Mudder 2014

Honestly I don't even know where to begin. I'll try my best to keep all of this in chronological order, but no promises.

A few months ago my friend DeWayne ran the idea by me to do a Tough Mudder course. I glanced at it quickly online and said I was in. We started to recruit people for the team. We threw it out to the SDLHC (Awesome FB health group that I'm in) and had some people respond. I was super excited. 

I started to train. I did the circuits the Tough Mudder website had listed. They were hard! But I kept at it. It was hard to juggle school, work, home life, and making time to work out. Really hard. 

As TM got closer I started to get worried. All of the obstacles looked fun to me. I don't have fears of tight spaces, falling, swimming, heights, jumping, etc. but I do have a fear of holding people back. I have a fear of needing people too much and being resented. 

I would text DeWayne at least once a week and say, "I don't think I can do this! I can't do it!" He'd reply by saying, "you're doing it." Thank goodness for friends who push you to do things. Looking back I don't know why I didn't think I could do it. I'm fit enough. I rock climb. I was working on upper body strength and running. I was scared.

Scared of what? A number of things. Failure. Holding people back. Making a fool of myself. My team not liking me. Not being a big enough contributor.

Fast forward to Mudder time. People flew in from out of state to participate in this Tough Mudder. A bunch of us got together the night before. We hadn't all met, so it would be nice to get to know each other before we went and did this thing the next day. We ate and laughed and talked. We had a great time. Eventually we all ended sitting in the living room and discussing our fears for the next day. We had a few people that had done Tough Mudders before, so it was nice to have their input on some of the obstacles. Some people in our group would be facing legitimate fears. For me, I didn't have a fear of physically doing something like climbing through a pipe or going under water.

For a minute I felt like I didn't belong. Everyone else had fears they would be battling. And me... well I just didn't want to hold people back. Anyone else I had talked to outside the group about what I was afraid of always brushed it off. "Oh you won't!" "You'll do fine!" "Don't worry about that, you'll do great!" It always seemed downplayed, but this is what I was really scared of! It got to my turn and I shared. I told everyone I was worried about holding them back.

And you know what happened? Instead of my fear being brushed aside, my group acknowledged it. Some nodded and others said they were also afraid of that. It felt nice to have others know how I felt. One person in my group voiced the exact same concern. I'm sad others had that same worry, but it's nice to know I wasn't alone. And I felt like I belonged again.

Too soon the night ended and we parted ways. I went home and went to bed. The alarm went off in the morning.....

AHHHHH IT'S TODAY. Obviously I hadn't successfully backed out of this. Gulp. But I was kind of excited.

I got up, got ready, and met with some of my teammates. We drove to Cedar Fort. Soon enough we were all there. We wrote our numbers on our arms and got ready. We warmed up and hopped over a wall. Then we were almost ready to go....

My whole team seemed so pumped and excited. All morning they all seemed SO excited. I was honestly just trying not to throw up my Cheerios from my nerves.

And then... GO.

We took off. We walked the whole course. I liked it that way. I was able to talk to my team members and try to process what we were doing. I really enjoyed each obstacle. Some I wasn't worried about. Others, I was worried. The obstacle I was most worried about was Funky Monkey. This was monkey bars, but at an incline. Only 40% of people successfully complete it. This was the obstacle I wanted to finish, but doubted myself more than ever.

We got to Funky Monkey. I was nervous. I stepped up and put my hands on the bars. My gloves were slippery. I stepped aside and took my gloves off. I kept remembering how I had done monkey bars at a playground by my house to practice and I thought they were hard to get through. In my head I kept saying "You can't do this. Save yourself the embarrassment and jump in the water or let go on the second or third rung. You can't do this."

Deep breath.

I put my hands on the first rung. I was nervous. I took my feet off the ground. I went to the second then third rung. Fourth. Fifth. "I think maybe I can do this!" Sixth. "Who am I kidding, I can't do this. I can't. I can't do it." But even with my self defeating thoughts I kept going. Finally I was three rungs from the end. "I should just drop. Just in case I don't make it to the end." "No. I made it this far, I may as well try." Two rungs to go. One. Swing to the ground.

Wow.

I couldn't believe it. The one obstacle I was absolutely SURE I couldn't do, I did.

At another point on the course we had to carry bags of sand. Guys were generally taking two bags, and girls, one. The man facilitating told us that we could take as many as we wanted, but he hadn't seen a girl do more than two. "What the hell" I said to myself. And I had someone help me get three. I was going pretty slow. But I was making progress. My friend Ashley stayed with me. And I was so glad she did. I told her she could go ahead, she looked me straight in the eyes and said, "I'm not leaving you." And she didn't. She cheered me on and encouraged me the whole time. She kept telling me "you got this! You can do it!" even when the voice in my head kept saying "You took too many bags, you can't do this." But her voice was louder than the voice in my head. We rounded the last bend and I was telling myself, "just a few more steps! Just a few more steps! You can do it!"

And I made it! I carried 3 sandbags. 120 pounds. Nearly as much as I weigh. On my shoulders. I did it.

I DID IT.

Another part of Tough Mudder that sticks out is the second to last obstacle. I had been helped and had helped strangers along the way. At the second to last obstacle there was a huge ramp. The ramp got steeper and steeper (and quickly too) until it was vertical. The goal was to get on top. Our team eventually all made it to the top. I was one of the last ones up. A few others not on our team were also trying to do the obstacle. At one point a woman fell, slid down, and sat at the bottom of the obstacle. She was crying. I knew that feeling. The feeling of defeat. No matter how hard you try and give 110% you still can't do it. I've felt like that before. A few of us at the top and some people at the bottom started talking about helping her get up to the top. A few of our team members slid down the ramp and with a few others made a human ladder up the ramp. The woman climbed up the ladder to us at the top. And she made it.

The thing I love about Tough Mudder is how highly they rank teamwork and helping others. I honestly don't know what our time was and I don't care to know. This event wasn't timed for me, it was getting everyone across the finish line. And we did it.

After digesting this event for a few days and looking at myself internally I've learned a few things. The first and biggest thing I've learned is I'm amazing. I seriously rock. I'm not trying to be cocky, but really I am awesome. I accomplished so much more than I thought I could. I had self defeating thoughts because I thought an obstacle looked hard. And I had already nearly lost the battle before I even put my hands on the rungs.

I've decided to change my outlook. I've been working on it since the end of Tough Mudder. It's not easy, but it's coming along. I feel more confident in what I do. I tell myself I CAN do things. If I'm not sure if I can do something, I try. And while I'm trying I tell myself I can do it.

Tough Mudder has helped me find self confidence I didn't have before. It's helped me find lifelong friends I didn't have before. And it helped me learn how to be a better person.

I hope I was able to contribute as much as the others did on my team. Some of my team members overcame amazing fears and doubts. It was incredible to just be a part of their story. My story, although different, is mine. And I love it.

I can't wait till Tough Mudder 2015. Who's in?

Portland/Seattle 2014

For the 4th of July this year we went to Portland and Seattle. As always, we had a blast. We watched fireworks at Fort Vancouver on the 4th with some friends, it was so fun. And I ate an elephant ear. I wish they had those in Utah. SO GOOD.


These are roses at the Rose Garden in Portland. We went here Saturday.

Adam and Crystal, our Portland besties

Just for my mom

There was a playground! These slides are not made for grownups.

Holocaust Memorial in Portland

On the ferris wheel in Seattle

The bridge troll!

My second cousin showed us around Seattle. It was fun to recon

My handsome man!

There was a sign that said no trespassing.. but I couldn't help it!

Little fish!

Boston's First Zoo Trip

We went to the zoo today. It was perfect weather and not very many people at all! It was great. Here are photos from Boston's very first zoo trip. 

Heavy Stuff

I've been debating on writing this post for a long time. I'm not writing this for people to say "Oh I'm sorry!" or "That must have been so hard!" I'm writing it in hopes that it can help others if they need it. That being said, I want to write about postpartum depression.

I was diagnosed with postpartum depression in early/mid February (ish). It took me longer than it should have to go in and see the doctor about it. I wasn't sure if that's what I was experiencing or if I just had the baby blues. I'm 100% better now because I went in for help. I'm so happy that I went to the doctor when I did.

I think my symptoms started probably 3-4 weeks after Boston was born. I had read a lot about postpartum depression before I had Boston and I had read about symptoms after. But I didn't feel like a lot of the symptoms fit me so I put off seeing the doctor. Looking back on it I should have totally noticed but my thinking wasn't going right and even when I read about symptoms I didn't feel like I had them. I thought what I was experiencing was normal.

Anyway, I hope by talking about this and listing how I felt will maybe help someone else down the road to realize they may have PPD and go see a doctor for help.

The biggest thing that was an indicator I think is that I wasn't taking care of myself. I would take care of Boston great! I'd make sure he was fed, dressed, getting interaction, naps, kisses, loves, etc. But I wouldn't take care of myself. I ate maybe once a day if that, didn't drink too much water at all, and was lucky if I showered. I would also cry A LOT. For no reason! I thought this was just my hormones getting back to normal. I cried so much. All day long. My saddest symptoms are next. I resented Boston and was sad he'd messed up my perfect life I had with Mike before. I wasn't happy. A recurring thought I had was about running away. Of course I never did, but I just thought about how nice it would be to run away. Things that normally made me happy didn't make me happy anymore. I didn't have energy to do a lot of things. One thing I hated was when people would say, "Isn't being a mom the greatest?!" I would smile and say I was really enjoying it, but inside my mind was screaming that I was miserable and hated it. I felt so bad.

I reached out to a relative I'm close to and told him I think I may have PPD. He has dealt with depression and other things and we are close so I went to him. He said to get to a doctor soon and that he loved me. I cried and cried. I'm so grateful he told me that. If he hadn't, I may have waited even longer to go to the doctor.

Thinking back on this I totally should have went to a doctor sooner. But I thought it would get better so I held out. The next day day after crying and crying, I called the doctor's office. I asked if I could get in because I thought I may have PPD. I hated calling. I was scared I'd go in and they'd say nothing was wrong and to stop being such a drama queen. The nurse on the phone said I probably couldn't get in till next week and I started full on bawling on the phone. I felt SO bad. I had no idea why I was crying! She comforted me and said she'd make room for an appointment the next day. I was grateful. I called Mike and told him I would be going to the doctor and I needed him to take time off.

The next day I got up, got ready, and went to the doctor's. The doctor had someone shadowing him, and the student came and talked to me first. He asked me about what was going on. I cried and cried. He had me take a survey. After I was done, he gave the survey to my doctor. My doctor came in and said with what happened on the phone with my nurse, what I'd talked to the student about, and how my survey went, I most definitely had PPD. He wrote me a prescription, told me to see a therapist, and told me everything would get better. But it wouldn't happen overnight.

I felt a little better after I met with my doctor. For the first time in a while I had hope that I'd be happy again. I also met with a therapist a few times. I don't feel like that really did anything. At one time we were talking and I mentioned how I hated my house because it was so messy. Its important to me to have a clean and orderly house. (Which probably seems backwards because our house is hardly ever spotless.) Anyway, she suggested I hire someone to come in and clean or ask someone to come help me. I asked my mom to come help me clean. My mom and Syd both volunteered to come help. My mom ended up getting sick, so Sydney cam and helped clean. It felt so good to have a clean house. I can't thank Sydney enough for coming to help get my house in order. And it was so nice to just have someone to talk to. Thinking back on it my therapist suggested I get on a higher dosage of medication. I was feeling a bit better, but not great. Getting on the higher dosage helped me get back to my normal self.

Little by little I noticed I wasn't crying as much during the day and I thought about running away less. Pretty soon I felt happy again. I enjoyed spending time with Boston. I didn't resent him anymore. I enjoyed things that used to make me happy. I took care of myself. My appetite came back and I was able to get stuff done. I was happy.

I feel bad that Boston's first weeks were spent with me when I was feeling like that. I took care of him, but I didn't enjoy him. Those are weeks I'll never get back with him. But, I just have to make up for it now. I hold him and cuddle him whenever I get the chance. I talk to him, play with him, and get him to smile. And I love every minute of it. I even love it when he's fussy. I know that sounds weird, but I love him when he's fussy. I only get a little bit of time with my sweet little boy when he is little like this and cries for his mama when he needs something. I love that I can provide for him and comfort him. I love him. Besides Mike, Boston is the best thing to come into my life.

Looking back I would describe having PPD as being in a black hole that sucks all the happiness out of life. I didn't enjoy anything, and had no hope that it would get better. It was really hard. Everyday was a struggle. I'm really happy I went to see my doctor. The medication he put me on has made all the difference. Some people are critical of these medications, and are worried because one of the side effects can be suicidal tendencies. While that is scary, I believe these medicines do more good than bad. Those on medications like me need to pay attention to how they are feeling and report to their doctor if they have any changes or symptoms.

I hope that anyone reading this post will realize that signs of postpartum depression aren't black and white. One main reason I didn't go into the doctor sooner is I never read any symptoms about wanting to run away or resenting the baby. I had read in being uninterested with the baby, but I felt I was interested. I took care of him and made sure he had everything he needed all the time. I had read about the mother wanting to harm herself or the baby, but I'd never read about a mom wanting to just pick up and leave. So I hope that anyone that reads this will understand that symptoms are different for different people.

If you have symptoms, go get help! It makes a world of a difference. I feel like my normal self again, and I find joy in everyday with my little family. I love my little family and wouldn't change a thing.