Saturday, April 30, 2011


Exactly one year ago today, I ran my first half marathon. The expected April showers upgraded to a torrential downpour on all of us Flying Pig runners. Instead of attending prom as an enthusiastic sophomore, I drug myself out of bed to run, while my friends were just getting back in from their magical evenings. After about the 8th mile, I cried out to my running parter and my mom, "I've never ran this far in my life!" But I didn't stop. If you're a runner, it's easy to understand the description of this "wall" we all hit. It's a "make-it or break it" moment. The reward after pushing yourself beyond this mental limitation is immeasurable. My legs carried me the farthest I've ever traveled. I ran the entire way, through the heavy rain, blisters, and pains. I feel now that I took my legs for granted that morning, but I was so proud of myself for not letting any of those obstacles stop me. I just ran and ran and ran and ran. Eventually, I forgot that I was running. It was just this flowing stampede; I was surrounded by unstoppable athletes. Running became a natural necessity for me. It served as a time of solitude and stress relief. I felt invincible and strong traveling mile after mile. Now it's that time of year again, where the weather teases you and pulls you outside. Spring is so refreshing! It's a reminder that indecisive Ohio weather can actually accommodate to our happiness once in a while. The sunshine seems to open up our hearts and optimistic smiles that the cold winters freeze over. It's days like this where I'd do anything to lace up my shoes and run. Of course I'd whine and complain during those long and overheating practices, but I haven't ran in months. I wish I had the option of laziness... Now I have no choice. My body can't support the stress running brings on it. It's no longer a game of "mind over matter", for the matter is so unknown and powerful that I have no decision to make for myself. The body which supported me in everyday life stopped doing so. I was forced to withdraw out of my sports and exercise. I miss being a part of a running team and I miss the competition of the race, as well. A year later, it's prom night again. My beautiful friends came over to show me all their preparations for tonight. They looked absolutely radiant! I suppose as a teenage girl, who also helped to plan this prom night, should feel sorry that she can't attend. My disappointment is expected. But as I sit here surrounded by spring, I'm not sorry I'm missing out on the glamour and excitement; I would just do anything to have my legs support me they way they did again.

Friday, April 29, 2011


"It's Just M.E."
^ This is an example of my oh-so-original and clever humor... lame, I know.

M.E. stands for myalgic encephalomyelitis. (pronounced, "my-Al-jik en-SEF-uh-lo-MY-uh-Ly-tis")

This is more than just a crazy long name. It's a title, a burden, a curse; it's my disease. It's a battle every day to not let this ultimately define and defeat me. This is the sickness that turned my entire world upside down.

The URL for this blog is

"When I Ever Feel Better" is inspired from a song by Phoenix titled, "If I Ever Feel Better". I first heard this song in the car during the long drive home from my treatment in Cleveland. The lyrics are ridiculously relatable to how I've recently been feeling emotionally. I shared this song with my mom, and she corrected the "if" to "when". I'm beyond thankful for her unyielding optimism. (:

"They say an end can be a start
Feels like I've been buried yet I'm still alive
It's like a bad day that never ends
I feel the chaos around me
A thing I don't try to deny
I'd better learn to accept that
There are things in my life that I can't control"

Way Back When...

While trying to get over this uncomfortable and inconvenient emotional barrier between my feelings and my laptop.. I'm going to start with the basics.
My name is Sara. I'm 16 years old. 16 is the year of great change, right? I found so much more freedom when I got my license! This past summer was my 16th birthday. Until then, I had always been somewhat of an awkward oddball. Yes, everyone has that "phase".. but mine lasted a long while, complete with tube-socks. Super nerd is putting it lightly. Teachers loved me. I got the goofy awards for being a good student, and I was always nice to everyone... that was just how I was raised. Starting the end of my awkward middle school years, there became this pain in my side. I continued to ignore it until it became scarily unbearable. My proactive parents immediately sent me to the best surgeon in the top hospital around. After many tests, they had found a cyst on my spleen. Surgery 1 was a success, and the pain went away. I started high school and immediately submerged myself in everything I could! Then, the mysterious pain came back. Surgery 2 was to hold me over until Christmas break- I refused to miss too much school for a silly thing like a splenic cyst. Finally, during Surgery 3 they took out half my spleen, along with the stubborn cyst. It was benign, which means it wasn't cancerous- it was just a random mutation. So I interpreted this as a sign from God to prepare myself for a career in the medical field. I recovered from the painful operations with a renewed excitement for high school. Actually, I was excited for preparing for after high school. I pushed myself and tried to build onto my impressive and lengthy resume, starting with my 4.0 GPA. I was so proud of my accomplishments! The longer my list of achievements got, the better I felt about myself. I enjoyed every activity I was involved in; I even welcomed the exhaustion from being so busy. I felt like I had purpose. My goals gave me something to look forward to always. I welcomed every academic challenge. I pursued prestigious musical opportunities. I ran long distance year round, and I participated in varsity sports when it was in season. I worked as a life-guard at the local pool, and as a waitress in a family-owned diner. My family and friends supported and encouraged me. I was thankful God had given me so many blessings and I wanted to use the talents He gave me to my fullest ability. Despite the tube-sock days, I was even voted onto homecoming court! I was euphoric and finally feeling confident in myself. I was so happy being in this constant state of motion. One friend even compared me to a hummingbird! I was naive, sometimes overly optimistic, and living the small-town dream. Until (you had to have known that word was coming..), one week in late November, I got sick.

Hello, Internet.

Well, this is my first "post" ever. I've always written stories... I enjoyed developing characters to my liking and I brought them to life on paper. Sometimes their scenarios paralleled my own, but I would make sure the scenes ended how I, the writer, wanted them. But this is so much more than fiction. It's so much more than any story. How can I define life with sentences tucked in between the covers of a dairy or on pages of the web? I'm feeling self-conscious about writing my own personal truths out on the internet. I guess I can look at this as just another journal.. although, I've often looked back at my own worn recollections of memories and grimaced at the scribbled thoughts.. I'm working on the self confidence thing. But it's hard to recognize myself these days. I've changed drastically in the past few months. I'm starting to re-define myself. Hopefully, this blog will be useful as not only an outlet, but as a way to reflect and connect with others who may be struggling with the same situations that I'm in. Writing allows me to give my never-ending, swirling thoughts some substance. Bare with me, I'm never one to write rough-drafts. I'd hate to be criticized on a mere form of expression, either. I'm learning to just go with the flow.