#lack-toes intolerant ass feet

[twistedappletree]

IM SORRY BUT

WHAT THE FUCK

[bumblebaby]

coffee bean kiss

hi i finished this a little bit late but that is okay because i’m actually kind of proud of it lol. this is my gift for @s-onora for the secret santa hosted by @itfandomprompts! hope you enjoy it hehe

reddie / 2.6k words / good ol fluff / no warnings apply

Evidently, nothing about them has changed since old times. Not the humor, not the bickering, and… definitely not Eddie’s feelings. It shows in how they continue to bounce banter off of each other the entire way there, and it shows in how Richie holds the cafe door open for Eddie, giving him a bow and a “M'lady” that prompts the classic-Eddie response of rolling his eyes and suppressing a smile, and it shows in how the small action that was meant to be taken platonically still makes Eddie’s heart skip a couple of beats. 

read it on ao3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

The winter months are overall bittersweet if Eddie had to describe them in one word. Finals have been clawing at his mental state (and admittedly his physical state; the constant greasy takeout gives him the worst stomachaches) to the point where he’ll often pass out at 2 AM with a face-full of textbook. But the enjoyable parts of winter have mostly made up for it. He likes spending time with his friends, he likes the new Starbucks hot drinks, he likes giving gifts, and he likes receiving gifts – call him greedy for that, but the mini vacuum his mom got him last year that is perfectly dorm-sized has brought so much joy into his life it’s almost embarrassing.

The ’whirr’ of that vacuum makes its way around his earbuds and Freddie Mercury’s high notes as Eddie tries to clean up the mess that has begun to build up from a lack of care on both his and his roommate’s part. For how long Eddie has been cooped up in this room, he sure hasn’t been taking care of it. He never learned to juggle, and that was especially true of having to juggle his grades, his health, and his tidiness. But it’s whatever. He’s on break now. A twenty-minute break, but a break nonetheless.

He doesn’t hear the knock at the door, despite how loud and repetitive it is, and “Bohemian Rhapsody” continues to play on while Eddie stays distracted from the original vacuuming task and gently bounces on his toes and mouths the lyrics. It’s not until he notices the movement out of the corner of his eye that he turns around and flinches at the sight of Richie standing in the doorway.

Eddie plucks an earbud out and furrows his brow. “How’d you get in?”

“What?”

The vacuum is still going. Eddie turns it off and repeats his question.

“Your door isn’t locked,” Richie answers.

Dammit. Eddie props the vacuum against the wall and tosses his phone onto the desk. “I don’t have money to go grab lunch today. I’m on a crunch this week.”

“I wasn’t gonna ask to get food, actually,” Richie says, giving Eddie a tight-lipped smile and raises an eyebrow. “Am I not allowed to just want to hang out?”

“I dunno, man.” Eddie huffs and drapes himself over his desk chair. “Sometimes I wonder if you just use me for lunch money. Like a glorified high school bully.” Richie takes a seat on Eddie’s bed and the first thing Eddie notices is the mud all over Richie’s sneakers and how much he brought into the room. So much for vacuuming.

Richie chuckles at Eddie’s remark. “You say that like I didn’t try to crack Henry Bower’s kneecaps with Stan’s baseball bat senior year.”

“Keyword is ‘tried’.”

“Whatever.” Richie sighs and flops back onto the squeaky mattress. “There’s actually a new cafe a little ways downtown-”

“Did you forget the entirety of what I just said?”

Richie raises his hand. “I’ll pay, relax.” He strains his neck to look up at Eddie. “Maybe the nice, warm coffee will loosen up that stick in your ass.” Eddie scrunches his face at that. “It’s a short walk.”

“I have to study,” Eddie argues.

“Didn’t look like you were when I came in. You can spare an extra twenty minutes.”

“Okay, well, it’s freezing cold outside and I don’t feel like walking anywhere today.”

“…I’ve got to go awayyy-”

“Please don’t start singing.”

“I can be the Idina Menzel to your Michael Buble.” Richie stands up and takes Eddie’s hands, pulling him up from the chair. “I’ll hold your hands-”

“Richie-”

“They’re just like ice-”

“That should be my line,” Eddie finally laughs, letting his hands go limp in Richie’s.

Richie grins. “You sing it then.”

Eddie’s stomach flutters as he stares up at him. Glasses smudged with fingerprints, a couple of crooked teeth, light scruff spread across his jaw.

Shit.

Richie continues: “I ought to say no, no, no-”

Eddie giggles again and pushes against Richie’s shoulders, but the other pulls Eddie into his chest. “You are intolerable,” Eddie mutters against his jacket.

“We either stay here and sing a duet together or you can come grab coffee with me.”

Eddie squints at him, but there’s a faint smile stretched on his lips. “This a date, Tozier?” It’s joking, but… he wouldn’t be opposed to it-

“There’s only enough room in my heart for one Kaspbrak, and, I hate to break it to ya, it’s not you, babe.” Eddie gives a disgusted groan. “Come on,” Richie says, finally releasing Eddie and walking over to the door. “You still need a jacket?”

Eddie knows for a fact he has one of his own. “Sure,” he says.

-

It had been snowing all week up on campus. The few inches of what was leftover from last night’s storm crunch beneath both Eddie and Richie feet as they walk down the street, passing through the part of town with all of the small businesses. Eddie’s never been particularly fond of snow; it’s wet and it’s cold and his fingers go numb and having to warm back up is such an inconvenience. But he does have a lot of fond memories involving it. He remembers seeing the losers running up his porch steps after school was canceled for the day, and getting bundled up and going out to build a snowman after ignoring his mother’s protests about how he’ll get sick and to come back in as soon as his nose starts to run. His nose is running a bit now. He doesn’t give it a second thought.

Also, Richie’s sweatshirt is, unsurprisingly, too long. Like, way too long. The sleeves are a good couple of inches past his fingertips and the bottom hem is halfway down his thighs. It’s funny because Richie is ridiculously skinny, just ridiculously long. Eddie can hear the dick joke in his head. He’s glad he didn’t say anything out loud.

“Cold?” Richie asks him, his voice followed by a cloud that Eddie isn’t quite sure whether it’s from his breath or the cigarette dangling from Richie’s lips. Probably both.

“Duh,” Eddie replies, shuddering. He lifts a hand to take the cigarette and drop it into the snow, seeing Richie shaking his head out of the corner of his eye. “You told me you were quitting.”

“I said I was working on it,” Richie grumbles, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Eddie bumps Richie with his shoulder. “Don’t get cranky with me. I’m looking out for you.”

Richie bumps him back. “The whole point of college is to be able to do whatever you want.”

“Not with me here.”

“Well, maybe I should’ve gone to California.”

“Pfft. You wouldn’t survive without me.”

Richie wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulder and pulls him into his side. The extra warmth is graciously comforting. “You give yourself too much credit, Eds. I’m a big boy.”

“Yeah, right.”

“In more ways than one.”

There’s the long-awaited dick joke. Eddie smacks the hand dangling over his shoulder and Richie yelps in response.

Evidently, nothing about them has changed since old times. Not the humor, not the bickering, and… definitely not Eddie’s feelings. It shows in how they continue to bounce banter off of each other the entire way there, and it shows in how Richie holds the cafe door open for Eddie, giving him a bow and a “M'lady” that prompts the classic-Eddie response of rolling his eyes and suppressing a smile, and it shows in how the small action that was meant to be taken platonically still makes Eddie’s heart skip a couple of beats.

They take their seats at a small booth by the big windows at the front of the cafe. There’s a good amount of people strolling through the streets, and Eddie notices a few couples, holding hands as they walk together. He has to pry his eyes off of them.

Richie sits with his back against the window and his legs sprawled across the entirety of the booth seat, propping the menu on a raised knee. Eddie gives him a funny look for it and only gets a shrug from the other in response.

“Whatcha gonna get?” Richie asks him.

Eddie skims over the options. He’s not really the type to branch out coffee-wise. “Mmm… the cinnamon latte looks good,” he answers.

“Lame.” Richie closes his menu and slaps it down on the table. “I’m getting a strawberry milkshake.”

“…It’s 9 in the morning and the middle of winter.”

Richie gives him a blank look. “And?”

Eddie lets out a long breath and places his menu on top of the other. “By 'big boy’ you meant twelve years old and not an adult man.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” Richie sits up normally and leans on an elbow. “So how’s that studying you mentioned earlier going?”

Eddie shrugs, sinking into his seat. “Hard, I guess.”

“You always do just fine.” Richie reaches over the table to pat his shoulder, and the touch buzzes through Eddie’s skin. “Fuckin’… smart cookie.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says with a forced smile.

The waitress takes their orders and then sets down their drinks after a couple of minutes of waiting. Richie asks for another straw for the milkshake, and the waitress initially gives a confused look but pulls one out of the apron pocket and slides it in Eddie’s direction before walking off.

“I didn’t want any,” Eddie tells Richie, pulling his mug towards him.

“Just in case.” Richie doesn’t bother with the straws at first and instead takes a sip from the rim of the glass, leaving a stripe of bright pink across his upper lip. “Can’t have you drinking from my straw. Too many germs.”

“Well, your mouth just touched it so you’ve technically already contaminated it.”

Richie wipes his mouth with his sleeve, but there’s still a bit stuck to the pitiful excuse of a mustache he has growing there. “That’s unfortunate.” He unwraps both straws and puts them in the drink. “It’s good, you should try it.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I’ll pass. You could be sick and that is the last thing I need right now.”

“I don’t feel sick,” Richie says.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie replies as he lifts his cup from its saucer and stares down into the foam, “You can still carry bacteria or viruses, or both, even without showing symptoms.”

“Thank you, Dr. K. They teach you this in med school?”

“You would not understand a word of what I learn in med school,” Eddie giggles, sipping from his drink.

“I don’t understand a word of what you tell me already,” Richie says. Eddie looks up at him from his coffee and he’s staring at Eddie with this… look, with a faint smile and raised eyebrows.

“What?” Eddie questions.

“What?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Cus you’re too smart for me, Eds.” Richie breaks the eye contact and stirs the whipped cream into his shake with one of the straws. “You’re gonna… go and be a doctor and do some great damn things. I mean, who knows what I’ll end up doing.”

“Rich,” Eddie murmurs, setting his mug down and giving Richie a gentle look. “You know you’re smart too, right?”

Richie shrugs. “Yeah, but… not in, like, a useful way.”

“Define a 'useful way’.”

The other lets out a strong exhale. “I’m not gonna be a doctor, or a lawyer, or any of that shit. I’ll probably end up a fuckin’ starving artist while the rest of you are out making six figures.” When there’s a pause of silence, Richie just shrugs again and leans back into the seat. “Whatever. Sorry to kill the mood.”

“You don’t have to have it all figured out right now,” Eddie tells him. “And I’ll be here every step of the way while you do figure it out.”

Richie looks up and warmly smiles. “See? You’re too smart and too wise for me. You got a coffee in winter and I got a god damn strawberry milkshake.”

Eddie laughs, reaching for shake’s glass. “You know what, maybe I will try it just to make you feel better.”

“That’s the spirit.”

-

They finish their drinks and begin the walk back to Eddie’s dorm. Eddie got a cheesecake slice to take with, since he thoroughly believes he deserves it after how hard he’s been working.

As they’re making their way up the sidewalk that leads to to the building, Eddie secretly prays that Richie doesn’t ask about the sweatshirt, as he’s realized through the thirty minutes of wearing it how comfy it is. It smells a little bit like weed if Eddie buries his nose far enough into the collar, but the faint scent of the cheap body wash and deodorant Richie uses is pleasant, Eddie guiltily admits to himself.

Eddie leads them up the steps and turns to Richie with a smile. “That was actually fun. Thank you for taking me,” he says.

Richie shrugs and returns a smile of his own. “Would’ve brought the others with, but they were either busy or asleep.”

Eddie chuckles, but he knows deep down how much he appreciated getting to hang out with Richie outside of a group setting.

There are a few seconds of silence alongside eye contact that Eddie knows holds something with meaning from how heavy it is. He can feel himself subconsciously start to lean towards the other.

“Richie-”

“Are you gonna kiss me?”

Eddie immediately recoils and he can feel his stomach lurch. “What?”

Richie’s shoulders visually stiffen. “Are you- are you gonna kiss me?”

“Why would I try to-”

“B-because like if you’re gonna kiss me I just-”

“-kiss you?”

“-wanted to warn you that I, um, I probably have cigarette breath and-”

“Richie-”

“-I have mints on me, if you… if you want to kiss me. If you want to.”

They’re staring at each other again. Eddie has a deeply knitted brow and the panic in Richie’s fair is clear as day.

Richie clears his throat after a few moments and begins to turn away. “I should, uh, probably… go.”

No, no, no, don’t leave right now!

The adrenaline spike is almost painful.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Eddie chokes out.

Richie turns his body back towards Eddie, giving him a worried expression. “…More than anything,” he says.

There’s another pause. Richie blinks at him. Eddie takes a shaky step forward and places his hand on Richie’s cheek, the skin warm underneath his numbingly cold fingertips.

“More than anything?” Eddie echoes, looking up into Richie’s deep brown eyes.

Richie nods, and Eddie connects their lips.

The air is fucking freezing, and Eddie is dying to get inside. Regardless, he wraps his other arm around Richie’s shoulders. There’s a hand on his waist and another on the back of his neck, and when Richie pulls back a mere inch, his breath is hot against Eddie’s face.

“Your mouth really does taste like cigarettes,” Eddie quietly tells him. Richie tilts his head back and lets out a loud bout of laughter. Eddie giggles himself before peppering kisses along Richie’s jaw while Richie reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a little box of Tic Tacs, opening the lid and pouring way too many into his mouth.  

“Can we go inside?” Eddie asks, snaking his arms around Richie’s waist. Richie waggles his brows in a suggestive manner, and Eddie punches his arm. “Not like that, stupid. I’m cold.”

“Can we kiss inside?”

Eddie rolls his eyes with a grin. “Yes, we can kiss inside.”

And so they do.

[asimbelmyne]

A Forget-Me-Not in the Fork in the Road: Chapter Two

Fandom: Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi

Pairing: Kylo Ren/Rey

A03 Link

Summary: He’d wait at the fork in the road almost everyday, tethering his horse to an old apple tree beyond the fence row, biding his time until he’d catch a glimpse of her hair in the distance, the swish of her pale dress, or the dying echo of her voice on the breeze, taunting his ears. She didn’t expect anything less.

A/N: This is going down a path I didn't think that it would take. Kylo is clearly a huge ass in my story, and believe me, Rey isn't going to handle his bullshit without giving a little in return. It would go against her character to do otherwise. I don't know if I'll change the rating, and I don't know how things are going to progress. Regardless, I'm having quite a lot of fun in the meantime! This is definitely out of my comfort zone.

Rey's hatred for Plutt had grown in the span of a few moments, curling around her heart, preventing any form of rationality from finding its way in. Her capacity for forgiveness had always outweighed her distaste of cruelty, but he had forced her hand. His behaviour had become intolerable, rivalling the look in Ben's eyes when she had questioned the reality of their acquaintance for the first time, defying every rule she had been taught out of contempt for his stature in life. She wanted to scream at him for being so unreasonable, but Plutt wore his conceit like a badge, acting under the assumption that he had lived long enough to do so, allowing the look on his face to vocalize everything she knew him to be feeling. Her anger was irrational, bursting from beneath her skin like an explosion, one she could no longer repress without becoming a flaming mess herself. Plutt had done enough to warrant her anger. He stood several feet away on purpose, occupying the entrance to his mill like a stone sentinel, preventing her from getting in. His height was imposing, but not enough to deter her wrath. She should have known he'd resort to something like this after Ben's candid slip up, but Rey refused to acknowledge how serious he'd been in the face of her captivity, gripping her wrist as tightly as a noose, fearing the inevitable. Ben's hunger for ambition had always been particularly unnerving, but she didn't think he'd ever go out of his way to consume her too. His family hadn't made much of an effort to conceal his true nature. He was a ghost, a name whispered in warning, and a shadow instead of a person. She should have turned on her heel the moment he had appeared in her life.

Plutt nearly smiled in light of her fury, but his face was too withered to display any emotion other than annoyance, as if she were nothing more than a speck of dirt trapped in the sole his shoe, entirely undeserving of his notice. Rey wanted to punch him in the face, demanding he let her stay in an attempt to salvage what remained of her life, but she knew he'd rather die than be humiliated by a woman her size, a woman with nowhere else to go. Her plight in life was crippling. Ben's face appeared in her mind like a mirage, a fictitious delusion that continued to infiltrate her thoughts no matter how hard she fought against it, destroying everything she had worked so hard to achieve on her own. The memory of his stare was unwelcome, a constant reminder of his selfishness, the feverish glint that had seeped into his eyes upon seeing her, and his pride. Plutt's expression confirmed Ben's involvement in their standoff, snapping the redundancy of her life, something she had grown to rely upon. Without the added benefit of belonging to someone, she was nothing but a woman, alone in the world.

"You can't do this," Rey said, seething with rage.

Plutt merely laughed, folding his arms across his chest in a display of pure disregard. "I already have! I can't say that it's been fun, but you don't concern me anymore."

"Did he put you up to this?" she demanded, barreling headlong into his space. "How much did he pay you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're lying!"

"Says who?" Plutt hissed, gipping her chin hard enough to cause pain. "A nobody? Don't fool yourself into thinking I give a shit. You're a pain in my ass, just as pathetic as everyone else in this godforsaken hellhole. You've overstayed your welcome."

Rey flinched, swatting his hand away in disgust. His eyes were alight with something she refused to name, glittering in the space between them like a black hole, bordering on regret. She had always done what he had asked of her. She had been a valuable asset to his industry, willing to work long hours with little pay, possessing little wealth in life. If she left, someone else would take her place. She was expendable, another cog in Plutt's clockwork, a piece of a puzzle so large, few had ever seen it in its entirety. The anger she had been harbouring for Ben flared anew. He would never understand her role in life because he had never experienced it for himself. They'd always be at an impasse, close enough to peer into one another's lives without actively taking part, dipping their toes into a surface so opaque, they could hardly fathom what lay beneath. Rey liked to imagine Ben's existence as being somewhat boring, composed of activities she'd often make fun of, activities she'd never end up doing herself. His ideas about her responsibilities in life were clearly unrealistic. Plutt's hand strayed near her face and she eyed it warily, waiting for the inevitable collide.

"He's ruined you," he told her softly, and for once, she looked up at him in surprise.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, but he merely laughed.

"Look who's the liar now?"

Rey stumbled around the bend, lifting the hem of her dress well above her ankles. Her confrontation with Plutt had ended badly. He had never been particularly considerate as a person, but his final words continued their assault long after she had left him alone, bothering her far more than she was willing to admit. Ben lived in a place beyond the restrictions her status in life had forced upon her, a place where he could do whatever he liked without consequence. His decisions had often been fickle in nature, indicating how little he cared about other people in light of his own problems, but his neglect, his lack of empathy for her situation in life, contradicted everything she thought she had known about him. He was capable of feeling things beyond selfishness, beyond the impenetrable cage he had trapped himself in, yet his desire to have her usurped everything else. Rey could see it in his face, how he had hidden himself in the bushes on purpose, blending into the foliage like the apples he enjoyed eating so much. He smiled upon seeing her, pleased that he had caught her in such an awkward situation. Every time she took a step in his direction, he'd catch a glimpse of her hair tumbling down her back, free from its intricate prison, coiling around the base of her neck and into the plunge of her bodice. Rey was aware of how she appeared to him. She looked desirable, wet from walking around in the rain, flushed red from anger, and completely furious, forgoing decorum in a vain attempt to keep her dress from getting muddy. He had ruined her life.

"You're a monster," she hissed, speaking loudly enough for him to hear. "You know exactly what you've done to me!"

"Ignorance is bliss. I thought you had realized that by now."

"What do you take me for? An idiot? Our relationship is far from being socially acceptable and I refuse to pretend otherwise!"

A frown appeared on his face, but it didn't linger there for very long. He stepped out from beneath the tree, close enough to count the freckles spattered across the bridge of her nose, joining her in the rain. There was something off about him and she couldn't quite put a name to it. The smile she had seen earlier felt like a ruse, put in place to honor the very pretences they had grown to rely upon so much, a ruse she hated more than his expressive eyes. Rey knew that Ben had closed himself off from everyone else, retreating somewhere deep inside of his own head in an act of self preservation, protecting what remained of his heart. While his mouth said very little about how he really felt, his eyes didn't lie. His displeasure with her words had become obvious, emanating from behind his gaze like an inferno, a searing accusation that rivalled the anger he had kindled inside of her soul. The look in his eyes bothered her, and she hated it. He deserved to feel degraded, forced to acknowledge the severity of his actions and their impact on her life, mirroring everything he had made her feel. His selfishness spoke louder than anything he'd ever say out loud.

"I saved you," he said darkly, clenching the fabric of his pants between his fingers. "I saved you from a life of needless suffering, a life you clearly didn't want."

"You destroyed everything that made me a person, Ben!"

His dark hair fell between his eyes, exaggerating the anger that burned from within, growing larger and larger like a seed in its infancy. His fury had been a thing of legend, a weapon of mass destruction few experienced without crumbling a little in the process. Rey knew what he could do to her if he so desired, but she didn't care. Her life had been difficult. His anger was as transitory as ripple, a stream she'd easily cross if things got out of hand.

"Don't give Plutt too much credit," he said, looming over her. "You were a person long before he forced you to work for him."

"What would you have me do then? Work for you?"

"I'd have you right where you are, beside me. That's all I've ever wanted."

Rey sighed in defeat, brushing his hair away from his eyes. He leaned into her warmth, kissing the inside of her palm. The sensation of his mouth stifled her anger. She allowed her hand to slip across his jaw, sinking her fingers into his dark hair, moving close enough to feel his heat. Her fears had come true. He'd never say it out right, but he didn't need to, not to her. His feelings were as obvious as the colour of his eyes, dark, alluring, and hot, coiling around her heart like a noose. His mask had slipped, but he was too enamoured with her to slide it back into place. Their acquaintance endured because he had never seen her as anything but his equal. He enjoyed hearing her stories and opinions, admiring the sound of her voice alongside his own, free from everything they had been born into. He was completely and utterly himself when they were together, and she didn't hate him for it. She disliked his penchant for cruelty, his vivacity for life, and how he continued to act as though the entire world were his to control and his to preside over, ignoring the rules that dictated their lives and what they were supposed to do with them. She refused to adhere to his warped perception of who they could become in light of what they already were. Her grip on his hair tightened, but his discomfort was lost in favour of her own thoughts.

"You live in a world so detached from mine, that it would be shameful to debase yourself just to be with me. Is that what you want?"

He leaned forward, pressing his mouth against hers so lightly she could barely feel it, but the intent behind his kiss spoke volumes. "Yes," he said, folding his hands into the curve of her spine. "I'll drag you down with me if I have to."

"I won't go easily," she said, trying to pull away, but his fingers were insistent, rooting her to the ground.

"I don't expect you to."

"Then why bother?" she asked, but his mouth had found the curve of her jaw.

Her grip tightened once again, enough to elicit a pained groan from his lips, but he didn't seem to care. He continued to wander, mapping out the column of her throat with his tongue. She wanted to pull away, abandoning his touch and the warmth that came with it, but she couldn't deny her feelings. To do so would be hypocritical, ignoring everything she had seen in him and in herself, and she didn't think he'd forgive her for that. He knew her far better than she would have liked. Every time his lips found her skin, her inhibitions began to fade away, bleeding into the background until his mouth, hands, and body took precedence over everything else. He was unraveling her, pulling at her seams, leaving her naked and vulnerable beneath his hands, trapped like a deer in headlights. His fingers found the spaces between her ribs, trailing up the length of her body, coercing a sound from her throat he hadn't heard in weeks. She arched into him, gripping his hair so hard he swore out loud. His kisses tasted like rain, open-mouthed and sloppy, stifling her anger entirely. The urge to run filled her to the brim.

"You owe me a song, remember?" he told her, digging his fingers into her hips.

The look on his face was shameless, but his eyes were sincere.

[celiawickedrunnah]

“I want to be in the arena. I want to be brave with my life. And when we make the choice to dare greatly, we sign up to get our asses kicked. We can choose courage or we can choose comfort, but we can’t have both. Not at the same time.”

Brene Brown

I’ve postponed writing this piece of the blog for six longass months now. I was trying to figure out a nicely way to put it; I wasn’t ready to write about my injury; I didn’t want to write about my injury and the missed opportunity to toe-line at Baystate marathon; I was busy with work and personal life; it was the holidays that came and went in a blink of an eye, and so many other things. But I’ve finally set my mind to it, sat down and started typing… typing whatever it came to mind without thinking and stressing whether it sounds pretty, fancy, appropriate or correct.

Without further ado…here it goes. The last five months of 2018 In a Nutshell and bullet points.

July – closed out the month with a bang of 140 freakin hot-humid miles. Summer in Florida was on the verge of peaking; thus, about to, or probably had it already, broke my body with its relentless heat and humidity. Yay! Happy Birthday, Celia! 40 never looked so good and strong, too!

  August – heading to my second run of the month which was supposed to be a 10-miler with fast finish. It’s August 3, hot and humid as hell, stated well but my calves felt tight within the first .25 mile, especially my left. It had happened before, and it usually takes a good 2-3 miles to warm up and let the legs adapt to the high humidity and heat. Stop / Stretch / Run / Repeat was the theme of this run. There was no flow, I was tired and part of me still believed that I just needed to give it time and a few more miles of warm up. My kind hubby was on the bike to get his exercise and to support me along the way with company, fuel and hydration. I was getting concerned because I could see his frustration due to lack of flow and consistence with my running. Close to mile 4, I felt my left leg losing strength and did a awkward bend. Before then and thereafter, the pain was intolerable. I was in denial. I stopped. I ran. I stopped and ran some more until I called it quit at mile 4. When you know that you have to walk to your car because of the pain, you know something isn’t right. And you know it’s horrible as tears dropped down your eyes mixed with sweat.

  Mid-August – A week rest didn’t help. Physical therapy didn’t help. Massage didn’t help. A test run was a failure. Off to the doctor I went, got some medicine and an order for an MRI. Treated for tendinitis for which the medicine should had worked within the next 3-4 days, it turns out that it wasn’t working. I knew then it was something worst as I wore the exam gown to get my MRI done in tears of sadness and despair. The results are out, went to my doctor to find out what I already knew – a left tibial stress fracture adjacent to the knee. “Yep, you have a stress fracture. I am sorry. It’s a common injury for runners and athletes. Even the elites get it”, said Dr. Mason, attempting to make me feel better. What’s next? Rest and recover, and some light cross training for the next 8-10 weeks. And no, you can not run, much less, race Baystate. That will have to be for next year.

  September – after going through all the raw emotions of an injured athlete – DENIAL, ANGER, BARGAINING, DEPRESSION and ACCEPTANCE, I finally started moving on to the mental healing process. I started to plan my Saturdays mornings as if I were to have my long run on the schedule. First Saturday of the month, I did a 75-minute hot yoga class, which was as draining as running in the FL head and humidity. The rest of the month was filled with bike rides and adventuring into a new sport – road cycling. I love everything about road cycling. My favorite is climbing. My husband and I had a great time exploring our hilliest area nearby. I finally filled out the void of running with the hope that cycling was going to help me stay sane and in shape for running. Strength training and physical therapy was my new norm during the week. I am extremely grateful to my physical therapist, Ed, for helping me get back to health.

October – new challenges, new opportunities. It was time for me to face my fear of water. I started to take swim lessons with coach Liesl. I love her. For the first time I felt comfortable in the pool and I was able to swim into the deeper side the pool at my own home. I also did many swim drills at the LA Fitness pool. I am eager to the possibility of completing a TRI in the near future. As I continued healing, I was able to run 30 miles for this month. Every day has been a step into the right direction.

  Cleared To Run

Yoga Practice everyday

November – more road cycling, more swim lessons and drills, more strength training, more physical therapy AND a new run coach. A friend once shared that when something you’ve not planned for happens, see it as an opportunity. I have been meditating on that perspective since my injury. Road cycling, swimming, more focus on strength training and physical therapy have all been a new opportunity for me. Practicing yoga was another opportunity that I’ve embraced. But one of the biggest opportunities this injury brought was the opportunity to work with Coach Dave at Ame For It. Coach Dave is truly a top of the line coach, and most importantly, a kind person. He cares. He cares about people and he cares about his athletes. Through our first phone conference, I knew immediately that I wanted him to be my coach and to guide to Hopkinton to Boston – and beyond. November progressed on track and I closed the month with 67 miles.

December – December really felt like the new year for me. I started working with Dave and I could feel the difference his workouts made. His attention to detail and coaching on the mental aspect of training – not just the physical, is remarkable. His approach is always a workout at a time, a run at a time. I’ve been learning that since I started practicing meditation prior to the injury. As I started to be more consistent with running, a new challenge rose – trying to fit in all the extra-curricular training with running. I’m still learning to balance it out. December miles – 91!

Sugar Loaf Mountain

Hubby on the way to Sugar Loaf

  Fleet Feet Trail

Fleet Feet Trail

CONCLUSION: 2018 was a badass year! It wasn’t how I had planned, but everything felt in the right place at the right time. I learned so much about myself and the most important thing I’ve learned was TO LET IT GO. LET GO OF ATTACHMENT! Baystate marathon was an attachment. Miles ran per month was an attachment. PR in every race was an attachment. This injury has taught different ways to care for my body from when rest is needed to proper nutrition. I learned what I really want from running. I do not just want to quality and run Boston. I want a lifetime of running. The only way to live that is by being present a run at a time, a day at a time. I know what my goal is; the rest will take care of itself as long as I show up and care for my body mindfully.

But just out of curiosity, I closed 2018 with 1,057 miles as opposed to 2017 with 1,028. Letting go of attachment is giving bigger results – and I am loving the process with so much gratitude.

Love the process!

“Sometimes the bravest and most important thing you can do is just show up.”

Brene Brown

  2018 In a Nutshell “I want to be in the arena. I want to be brave with my life. And when we make the choice to dare greatly, we sign up to get our asses kicked.