Regarding Fear.

I have one of those treadmill programs where I can follow a trainer in some exotic locale and pretend like I'm not in my creepy basement surrounded by cobwebs. It distracts me. Mostly. Recently I was running, and the trainer was talking about fear. She was paraphrasing someone else and said something like "Fear won't kill you, but it will keep you from living." (Apologies to whoever originally said this for not giving you credit.)

Speaking of living - that phrase has taken up residence in my mind for the last few weeks. It's had me thinking a lot about things that scare me. But fear is a complicated emotion. Fear and anxiety and stress all take up similar places in your brain, and sometimes it's hard to figure out which is which. I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder about 15 years ago. I'll be honest: I was kind of pissed about it. Of course I'm anxious. Everyone is anxious. My doctor prescribed anti-anxiety medication that I took for a hot second before tossing. I've found other ways to cope when I'm anxious. Exercise is at the top of that list. When I worked for the Mayor in Lansing I could close my office door and use a meditation app for five minutes. I will take a quick walk. I know everyone manages anxiety differently, but these are things that help me power through.

Running my 7th 5k of 2025...short of my goal and also 
way fewer miles than I used to run. But it keeps me sane!

But I also find myself regularly trying to differentiate between what makes me anxious and what "scares" me. Scaring may be overstating, but I try to do something that makes me uncomfortable every day. I can choose to let discomfort or fear win, or I can live. 

What scares me? My biggest fears all center around things over which I have no control. I'm afraid of something happening to my husband or son. I'm afraid of not being able to handle my Crohn's. I'm afraid to fail. Again fear and anxiety are all wrapped up together, and I have to figure out how to push through them.

I'm guessing most people worry about something bad happening to loved ones. I hear about accidents or people being diagnosed with horrible illnesses and shudder at the thought of that impacting my little family. But does it mean I keep my kid in a bubble and not let him push his limits? Does it mean we don't travel because our car or plane could crash? Of course not. It means I focus on what I can control: being safe, preventative medicine and managing those things I can. If I focus on what could happen I'd lose my mind.

It isn't possible for me to be more pro-vaccine. I can't control Crohn's.
But science can help me prevent things that would make my health worse.

I've been sick with Crohn's for 28 years. Wow. It's weird to actually write that. I've had very, very serious complications. Sometimes it's really hard to stay positive, but I have to. I can't focus on what might happen. I focus on being as strong as I can be physically and mentally. That means exercise. That means therapy. That means preventative medicine. Crohn's isn't going to get easier as I get old, but that doesn't mean I stop pushing. 

I'm a Type A overachieving perfectionist. The concept of failure makes me shiver in horror. But we all fail. I've failed repeatedly in my life. I used to refuse to do things I'm bad at because I was afraid of looking silly. But then I realized my son was picking up on mirroring that behavior. So I do things I'm bad at even just the small things. I'm a horrible bowler, so when we bowl I activately try to come in last. I also dance after every single frame no matter how terrible it was. I have to model acceptance in being bad at things in order for my child to see that it's okay. And I still cringe when I'm doing things I'm bad at, but who's good at everything? Nobody, not even Type A overachieving perfectionists. 

Driving over crazy mountain passes terrifes me.
I did it repeatedly on vacation this summer. 

A few weeks ago the University of Houston's Strength and Conditioning Coach Kurt Hester died after a short battle with Stage 4 Melanoma. He said, "Death is undefeated, but I'll take it to three overtimes." It was another reminder that I get one shot at this beautiful life of mine. What am I going to do with it?

In the end, fear is just one voice among many. It’s loud, but it isn’t the truth. The truth is that I’ve survived every hard thing so far. The truth is that my life is bigger than the things that scare me or make me anxious. And the truth is this: fear won’t kill me—but refusing to live fully might. So I’ll keep choosing life, one uncomfortable step at a time.