From There to Here

Had my hair done last weekend.  Lashes put on.  Spray tan the night before, and then hair braided and makeup done the morning of.

So self indulgent.  So self centered.  So narcissistic.  So needed.

I have been working hard for this.  It's been strictly for aesthetics, outer appearances, and though it's not an admirable way to live your life, it has been such an experience to fall in love with myself - and with what my body can do.

A lot of people have been telling me, have told me, that I'm beautiful inside and out.
Wow.  Seriously.  It makes me so emotional, that I have so many kind, thoughtful people in my life who think so much of me.  I am crazy, crazy blessed to live my life with this tribe of supporters.  Crazy.
And I am grateful for every single kind comment, and like and share on all of the social medias, and in real life.  SO grateful.  I have had a giant smile on my face all day!

But there's something I'd like to share.

I distinctly remember going on a trip to Hawaii many years ago with some friends.  I remember vividly that I did not feel I deserved to go on such a nice holiday because I was very large, and I was extremely uncomfortable in my body.

I have felt this discomfort for most of my adult life, and for much of my childhood too, because for the vast majority of my life, I have carried a lot of extra weight.

Shout out to Crossfit Leduc, amiright?!

The thing I want to share is something that one can only know if one has lived in a very large body for any period of time.

When people tell you you're beautiful at any size, you don't disagree.  You don't.  But, when you are living or have lived, as an obese person, it's a whole world that some people cannot comprehend, because when they say they loved you when you were also large, only you can know that you, at some point, didn't, or don't, love yourself, and that all the love in the world, pouring in from every which way, cannot get to you, because you don't feel a drop of it for yourself.

On that Hawaii trip, there are some pictures of me.  I have cleverly disguised my size by wearing baggy clothes, or making sure there were people, or objects blocking my body, or sometimes avoiding the camera altogether.  I was not comfortable, and to this day, it is the strongest memory of that trip for me.  Not feeling comfortable in my body.  Sucky, right?  That a gorgeous trip to Hawaii holds such a lousy memory?

So, the thing is, I feel as though this phenomenal group of people, who have been along this crazy journey called life, and have loved me, unconditionally, forever, might not truly understand how it feels to live obese.

I never doubted that you loved me.  I never doubted that you would be there for me.  I just assumed those things.  But inside myself, I fought a really, really hard battle.  A battle made entirely of inner dialogue, but that dialogue was filled with some of the most horrid, disgusting words.  Words I would never, ever in a million years say out loud.  Words that I hope my daughters never even consider to think.  And that is my why.

I love myself now in a way I could have never fathomed.  I set this goal out for myself, I worked hard, and persevered and thought about quitting every day.  But my why, is those two girls and little boy, who are molding self images, and who have seen their Mom do some incredible sh*t, but who will never know of the internal war I waged on myself for way, way too many years.  I wanted to prove to myself what I was capable of, and although these pictures are stunning and I am eternally grateful that this journey has been captured, I do not take that away from this experience.  What I take away, is a normalized relationship with food and with myself.  That's it.  When I see it written there, just a simple sentence, it seems small.  Trivial.  But the truth is, I have spent a whole lifetime longing for this.  And I've only just realized that I had the power to be in control.  I did.  All along.

From there to here?  It's been the longest road I've ever traveled.  It's not even over.  It never will be.  That's one of the things I've learned.  I know that sometimes people think, "well, I'll just go and do that", when they think about losing weight, but they don't consider that in the 'getting there', you will face some tough sh*t.  You will battle demons and memories and thoughts head on.  No one gains weight simply by eating too much.  Nonononono.  We gain weight because food helps us cope.  Food is easy, and comforting, and always there.  It is on the difficult days, the ones where you are ready to quit and you haven't gotten out of bed, that you will dig deep, and discover the self love you have repressed for so long, and you will get up and grind out that day.  Those are the days that cause the most transformation.

I know that some of this is inspiring.  I am honored, honored to think that even one person could think of me as an inspiration.  And I want you to be inspired.  I do.  So much.  I've been inspired a million times along the way too, in a million different ways.  If I can wish for you, though?  It's that you are inspired to love yourself.  Right now.  Don't wait.  I regret the energy and time I wasted not loving myself, and I wish I'd done it sooner, and I want for you to love yourself now, as you are, because the girl in these pictures?  She was always there, waiting for the self-love

Thank you Brandi, for being, and continuing to be, my tour guide.
www.motivateandbfit.com

And thank you to my dear friend Kelsie for capturing this emotional day!
www.kelsiekellyphoto.com

And BIG thank you to Crossfit Leduc for this facility, coaching and family.  You are some of the greatest people I know, Brad and Annie!
www.crossfitleduc.com

Haaaaaaammmiiiiiiiies...

No Explanation Necessary

Every single year, when the calendar passes Christmas and Boxing Day and the week before New Years meanders on, we start to see more and more posts about how the past year can bite it, because it sucked, and hopefully the next year is better...
Like every year, we are handed a fresh, brand new sheet of paper to turn into something amazing, and then here we are again, on Dec 29, balling it up to toss over our shoulder and begin again on January 1.

We define our lives by the sh*tty things that happen.  We define an entire year by the sh*tty things that happened.  How often do you hear someone say, "man, that was just a really great year!".  On December 29?  Not many...

But what if instead of remembering the few awful things that happened, and deciding that the whole year should be scrapped, we chose the things we achieved, obstacles we overcame, and celebrated them, but then scrapped the whole resolution bulls*t instead?  Hmmmmmm?  Whadyathink?!?!

Some not so pleasant things happened last year, but way, way more phenomenal things happened, and  I looked back on 2017 with pride.  See the good.  Find the positive.

I do not make resolutions because I don't need that kind of negativity in my life.

Instead, I make goals.  Doesn't "goal crusher" sound way cooler than "resolution crusher"?  It does.  I'll just go ahead and answer it for you.  Goals are measurable.  Goals have plans and action and the acceptance of setbacks.  Goals will still be around in June.  Resolutions are usually just a fart in the wind by then.

My goal this year?  To stop seeking approval.  Validation.  I am enough.  I do not owe anyone an explanation for how I live my life, and I do not need to hear yours.  Make your page beautiful this year.  You do you.

There's a window where I work, where, in good lighting, you will catch a perfect reflection of yourself.

I've worked here long enough to see many different reflections looking back at me, and many of them have made me sad, and many of them, including my gigantic pregnant bellies, have made me so happy.

I can recall seeing myself, after returning from my last maternity leave, and noticing that my shoulders were rounded.  I remember thinking to myself, that my goal was to sculpt myself some nice shoulders.

I caught myself in that window the other day.
Goal = achieved.

I am on the single digit weeks in prep for my photo shoot in January, and I am driven as f*ck.
Let me tell you, my focus is sharp, and my "why's" are crystal freakin' clear.
I know why I'm doing this, and I am so confident in myself, that when you have something to say about my transformation, I do not feel the need to respond.  I am just that confident.

I heard a fella on Instagram the other day, Gary Vee, you may have heard of him.  He's a crazy motivating individual, and he will make you believe in your damn self.  He was talking, passionately, about goals. The message was, who's permission are you waiting for?  And it.  Was.  Good.

There were some choice words in his video, but I would venture to say they were warranted, but the truth is that most of us are scared of our goals, sometimes because we are seeking permission from somewhere. Acknowledgment.  Validation.  As if, once we get that, only then can we pursue our goals.  What?!  Like, why?? Sometimes, you need to be super honest with yourself.  What bullsh*t excuse is it this time?  Are you waiting for permission?  Who's green light do you need before you can go on and live the life you want?  Who's?  It has only been when I decided, for my damn self, to do what I want, that I have been the most happy.  That I have felt like I have had the most purpose.

But, why do you want to do a photo shoot?
For myself.  That's it.  Myself.

I do not owe you, or anyone else an explanation.

You?  Person I don't know very well?  Or maybe even person I do know well.  I will not explain to you why I am making the choices I am.  I've learned that opinions should be regarded like shoes.  Check them out, perhaps nod and then move on.  Do.  Not.  Put.  Stock.  Into either shoes or opinions.  Both will come and go, and pass you by, and neither will have any bearing on your life.

I am very close to having my day.  I will be uncomfortable.  I will have some difficult days leading up to.  This is the sprint though.  This is the part where I leave it all out there.  No more saving it.  This is the time to empty the tank.  I did not come this far to only come this far.  My hope is that I will have this memory forever.  There will be photos that will baffle me.  I'm positive there will be bloopers pics too that shall  never be released for other human eyes!  This has been such an emotional ride, and the closer I get, the more I can feel the doubt.  The wishers-that-I-fail-'ers.  It's hard to know that there are people who want to see you fall.  Waiting for it, even.  But my goal this year is that I will not worry about other people.  I will have such strong faith in myself and my abilities, that I won't have the peripheral vision, even, to notice the peanut gallery.

Transformation game is strong, and it's just barely 2018.

Stand UP.

Stop standing like that!

I heard that one day from my very favorite physiotherapist during our warm up at the gym.

I slouch.
All the time.

It's a terrible habit and I started to say, "I can't help it...", before she cut me off with, "Yes.  You can."
And she's right.

A lifetime of being a chubby girl has trained my body to have a permanent hunch.
I am trying to concentrate on proper posture and standing tall, but I have to think about it all the time because I've been slouching for 30+ years.

Why have I always rounded my shoulders?  I don't think I would be the first fat person who wanted to fold themselves in, trying to be smaller by bringing my sides closer together.
Stick my chest out?!  WTF?!?!  Do you see how big these things are while I'm slouching?!?!  If I pop them out, they're going to take out a swath of people!!
If I stand tall, I will take up more space.
And I do did not want to do that when I was a larger person.
I'm still learning to live in this body.
I don't recognize myself in pictures and I'm quite sure the vision I have in my head of myself is different from how I actually look.

I should have stood tall and proud then, but now that there are three little peoples' eyes watching me, I feel I need to be especially careful to have good posture - which exudes self confidence through body language.
(Fake it 'til 'ya make it, right?!)
How can I tell them to be proud of themselves, while my body seems to be curling in on itself, in an unnatural looking way?
I'm careful not to criticize my body, which strangely, I never did as a larger person, but now I have to stifle it.
When you gain 5 or 10 pounds, and you weigh 210, it's not really a huge deal and most certainly will go unnoticed.
Gain 5 on a 150lb body?  Your clothes will remind you that it's too much!  Ta-RUST me!

It's important, though.
It's important that I lead by example, and although my kids will only ever remember this version of me, this, size, of me, I lived in a very different meat suit for a much longer period of time than this current one, and it's important, that they know to be confident, at any size.

More importantly, I think they need to know that their body is nowhere near as important as their heart, and that the person they are on the inside is what people remember.  What counts.
So be kind, and hopefully I can teach them that their body is just something they live in.
In a world that tells us to be always conscious of our body, our beauty, I think it's so important to try and show them that without it ever being something they have to think about, they can be confident.

I myself struggle with trying not to think so much about my physical self.
I've been focused, laser-beam focused on changing my body, but I need to now just be, so that I can raise two girls, and a little boy, who are not body conscious, but just, conscious.

So, stand tall, just be confident, and you may have to do what I'm going to do.
Fake it 'til I make it.

On the Daily

So, sometimes when I'm cleaning up my children's dishes, I take the last swig of their drink.

Done it lots of times.
Only this time, my adventurous son had put several bits of his lunch into his milk.
Mmmmmmmm.  I'll just let you imagine that for a sec...
I won't be doing that again.  Lesson learned.

I was wrangling that sweet little cherub into a restless nap today, when I thought to myself, "I wonder if I can order a pumpkin spice latte when Blake and I go on our date tonight?  I need to know what all the hype is about pumpkin spice."

The crazy, hectic, stressful chaos that is daily life, has become so normal, that in the midst of my sons screaming, kicking fight to get to slumber, I can still be daydreaming about this evenings kid-free festivities.

Now, I'm not a type A Mom and I'm certainly not one to stress over the little stuff, but I do recall in the days that Audrey may have been portraying similar behavior in spite of her extreme exhaustion, that I may have just given in, and subsequently suffered the consequences for several more hours before she surrendered to sleep, in a closet.

I'm quite sure it's more the aging process than it is raising little people, but I seem to give fewer and fewer effs about the stresses of life in general.

I know what's important and I wholly engage in what I have prioritized, but I'm finding that I'm happier than I've ever been because I try not to invest energy into sh*t that doesn't matter to me.

Raising good kids.
That's pretty important to me.

Creating and putting the effort into my relationship with my husband.
That's really important to me.

"You treat me like garbage."
She spat at me, through clenched teeth.

We had just spent an hour and a half at the park.
We had brought a friend of hers, even.
And when we walked in the door, and she asked if her friend could stay for dinner, and I said no, and she said this to me.
"You treat me like garbage."

How do I emphasize the depth and pain of her words?
As I remember that I myself have used the word garbage to describe someone else's behavior at one time or another, and now it's being spewed back at me.

I asked her to repeat it.
She wouldn't.

I told her that was the indicator of how hurtful her words had been.
If it hurts to repeat the statement, then it was too mean to have been said in the first place.
I try very, very hard not to say things I will eventually have to apologize for.
I expect the same restraint from my loved ones.

Sometimes the plan is to go something like this:

Take kids to do something fun.
Come home.
Cook and eat dinner together (Eat.  As in, the one beautiful, healthy meal I've made).
Bath/brush teeth/book.
Bed.

Sometimes most times the plan is derailed because, well, life.

Some days are bad.
They start poorly, with a giant cup of coffee through the drive thru, when I'd asked politely for tea, and then they continue to spiral into a self-pity party and end triumphantly in someone vomiting on the floor.
There are no words to emphasize the difficulty that is raising little people into grown ups who are not as*holes.
There are no words to emphasize the struggle that can sometimes be marriage and family.

I've heard that nothing worth doing is easy, and I can only cling to the hope that because it is often so damn hard to be a wife and parent and also try to maintain the original me, that maybe, just maybe we're doing something right.

Note to self:  Must try harder to appreciate the days that are easy, and effortlessly enjoyable.

Not Invisible

How many years have you hated your body?
I have hated mine for most of my life.
Hated it.
Resented it.

I hated how it looked.  How it made me feel.  How it made me feel about myself.  Hated how powerless I felt to change it.  Hated how it made my clothes look, and how it made me a target for second glances and judgemental eyes.  Hated it for betraying me.

I have hated my body for so, so long.
In this process?  Unexpectedly?  I am falling in total love with my body.

A few months ago I asked a friend to do a crossfit competition with me.  This is outside my comfort zone.  I don't consider myself a competitive person.  I like running because you are blended into a crowd.  Most people aren't "focusing" on you.  At this competition I could feel eyes, watching me.  Watching us.  And I was bursting with so damn much pride that I could feel myself well up several times during the day.  My partner, Sam, and I were focused and prepared and when I felt weak, I could hear her cheer, and I knew I could find something deep down inside me, to push through.  My friends from Crossfit Leduc were there too!  Participating, volunteering, supporting.  Amazing.

I stepped into this gym just shy of a year ago.  It was meant to be a short term stay.  I didn't want to drive into the city over the winter.  I am in love with this place.  With the people who call this place home.  I am proud as hell to be a member of this phenomenal facility.  There are a couple of events at this gym, and this past year I volunteered at one, and I chose to be a competitor at this past one.  Both experiences were humbling.  Inspiring.  I have seen some unassuming individuals do some mind-blowing things.  I have seen people bust out a PR.  I did unassisted dips yesterday.  For the first time.  I started to celebrate this win, but had to reel it back in...

"Holy sh*t!  I JUST DID THAT!  Jericho, I can't believe I just did that!"
*clock still running
"Not the time, right?  OK.  I'll just keep doing these..."

It was just one of a few memories I will take away from this competition because there were so, so many.  My friends were so strong and pushed so hard through some seriously tough workouts.  We shouted and cheered for our friends, for athletes we'd never met.  We were in awe of some of the shredded bods and their abilities.  To say that I am grateful to Annie and Brad for putting on another fantastic event doesn't begin to describe my gratitude.

To Sam:  You are f*cking strong! You are so positive and tenacious, and I knew you'd be a great partner!  You kept me afloat and encouraged me to fight when I felt depleted.  You were uncomfortable.  So was I!  But in spite of that, we crushed the day yesterday and though I didn't have many expectations for yesterdays competition, I sure wasn't expecting to make it to the finals!  Thank you for being my gym partner and for pushing me, and for pushing yourself!  You are one bad a*s Mama!  So glad I found you and all the other devoted folks at Crossfit Leduc.

From years of hate and being uncomfortable in my skin, to seeing the pics posted yesterday and not hating even one of them.  Look like a goofball?  Sure.  But I didn't look at one photo and think to myself, "ugh, I look so friggin' fat."  It's a lousy way to feel about yourself all the damn time, and I can tell you that the size of my body hasn't had much influence on how I feel about it.  What has changed how I feel about my body?  My capacity to lift heavy things and persevere through some serious conditioning.  The things this body can do are incredible, if I do say so myself, and I have a funny feeling that had I just, simply changed sizes, that the self-love thing might not have followed in quite the same way.

It's a bit of a strange transition, really.  When I was heavier, I wanted so badly, to just be small enough to be invisible.  Small enough to blend in.  To look "regular".  To be "regular" sized.  I wanted it SO badly.  The funny thing is, the change happens, slowly, and it has momentum.  Slow, but it's there.  Momentum comes in lots of forms, too.  You pull your jeans on and there's no muffin top today.  Someone who hasn't seen you for awhile mentions that you're looking good.  You're not winded when you climb some stairs.  Momentum.  Victories.  And, then, one day you're invisible.  But shortly after, you're visible again.  Because you're starting to love yourself in a new way.  Your confidence starts to burst out like sun rays.  It's an incredible, empowering feeling, to actually enjoy living in your skin.

It makes me want to shake the people who have just started their journeys - "JUST BE PATIENT!  I PROMISE YOU THAT GOOD THINGS ARE COMING!"

You, friend, are about to gain confidence you never knew existed.  You are about to start shedding those feelings of hate, and you are about to reveal to yourself a body that can do amazing things, and that you just might start falling in love with.

I catch a glimpse of the new veins that are emerging on my arms, and I break into a smile.  I can see, and feel new muscles and small crevices where fat is melting away and it makes me almost tear up.  I never thought I was capable of something so incredible, and it's all my doing.  Mine.

I can see the bottom of my ribcage.  Never.  Ever.  I have never been able to see this.  I have always had a layer of soft, comfortable belly to cover it.  I have the beginnings of abs, friends.  F'real.

This body.  This body that I have regarded as my enemy for so long.  But also, this body that has helped create and house three freakin' amazing children.  That has run countless miles.  Completed 2 full marathons and 13 half marathons and one crossfit competition. This body that can squat more than it weighs. This body that can easily keep up with those three kiddos, and that does not harbour bugs to make me sick with illness.  This body.  Mine.  That I have wasted too many years hating.
Now, I am so, so proud of it.
So proud.

How About You?

I've had 16 hours of sleep in the past 72 hours.

It's OK though.  The kids get it, and I'm sure they'll be on best behaviour...
(They won't, by the way, if you were actually thinking they would try to go easy on me...)

I've worked two evening shifts, with middle of the night call backs,  followed directly by two 12 hour shifts at a casino, an hour away, as a big preschool fundraiser.  I do everything I can to help, where I can...
But I'm spent.  Wiped.  And unfortunately, the rest of my "have to" list is still there waiting for me.

Here's how a very small portion of a typical day goes...I will point out that we do not do very many activities, so if we did, you could throw chauffeuring kids around to hockey/skating/soccer/dance/piano etc. into the mix there...

Here goes...

Up at 7.  Get kids breakfast, dressed, brushed and on bus.  Clean up breakfast.  Dress Sterling...wait!  Make sure ipad is charged and snacks are packed.  Head to gym.  Take one, glorious, hour, to escape, keep my body healthy and try to set a positive tone for the day.  Pick up groceries to prep for our girl guide Halloween treat for this evening.  OH!  And maybe grab a few groceries for my own family too.  Pick up Ellie from school.  Head home to make lunch.  Unpack backpack and lunch kit.  Start laundry...wait, put kids clothes away so you have a basket to use...wait, no,  tidy kids rooms so there is somewhere for you to sit to put clothes away and so the clutter of the house isn't just another thing cluttering your mind...make your own bed.  Clean up lunch. Finally get laundry into washing machine.  Jump in for quick rinse off and then get kids outside to play.  Have to list is running in background of brain...Must remember to print and fill out Sparks forms and money for Ellie's sleepover.  Also, remember to switch dayshift so you can go to Remembrance Day celebration with Brownies and newly re-elected husband,.  Find forms for own Brownie group for our upcoming sleepover.  Finally submit receipts for all the things you've bought for Brownies.  Think, I had no idea volunteering would cost so much money...hang on!...check schedule.  Doesn't Ellie have an immunization appointment coming up?  Right!  There it is.  Oct 30.  I'm a bad Mom.  That's the day before Halloween.  OH!  RIGHT!  Must do licencing for work before Oct 31 or you'll be paying an additional $50...crap...what are my continuing ed goals going to be for this year?  Have I completed last years?  Noooo....so, I'll just slip that onto the calendar...and I should see if Blake can format my preschool lists to make sign out sheets for the football pull tickets...is that Friday?  Yes.  Must remember to go sign out tickets Friday.  I should call and follow up on the printing of those tickets, too.  I think I'm working this weekend.  Ugh.  Pick up shifts, because, y'know, bills and stuff...and I need to meet my competition partner Thursday to go through the workouts...Have you tracked your macros today?  How much water have you had?  What time is it anyways?

This is absolutely a complaining post.  No two ways about it.  I'm complaining about the fact that I am an idiot, and I can't say no, and I am just trying my damnedest to be a good Mom, a good wife, look after myself, and contribute to my community as a volunteer.  I know I need to learn to say no.  But who else will step up?  Balance is a lifelong struggle, and some days are much harder.  Like today...


And then, I think, why am I feeling so overwhelmed?

So hard to understand.

So hard...

So You Wanna be a Councilor...

I try to stay away from politics.  I have my views, they're not something I like to share.  Politics are a volatile subject and there is a LOT of passion surrounding peoples' views.  I am not spouting my political views.  I am simply giving a little bit of insight from a family who has recently been involved in municipal politics.

In one weeks' time our quaint little town, and all other cities, towns, hamlets and villages in Alberta will vote in their municipal elections.  One week from today determines how your community is run for the next four years.

My husband has been fortunate to be involved as a town councilor for the Town of Devon for the past four years, and we as a family, decided he would run for another term.

This decision did not come lightly.  The past four years have been very, very challenging.  Not only for my husband to be a part of the team that makes many of Devons' decisions, but also for our family.  He is away for this job.  He is away at times that are inopportune and inconvenient and frustrating.  It is disheartening for people to be seeking this position, with no knowledge as to how much this will affect their families' lives.

I was not much in favor of the decision to run again.  In my, obviously biased opinion, he and this group of individuals has done an outstanding job in their term.  They were all relatively new to their positions and they grew and worked well, together.  One persons weakness was anothers' strength.  My husband worked tirelessly in this position.  He received the meeting agenda and would spend hours preparing, researching, balancing numbers.  He took this job very seriously and was always able to put his own personal interests aside, to make the best decisions for our town.

The hours he would spend preparing for a meeting, would end on a Monday evening, twice a month, sometimes as early as 5:30.  So, I've mentioned that he's already spent many hours, even before the meetings, preparing?  Hours.  Not spend with his family.  Hours.  Where his mind was not with us, but was concerned with an e-mail he received from a resident about a pertinent issue.  Hours.  Time that he took, himself, to be the best councilor he could be.  For our town.

My husband has a thick skin.  He's able to hear criticism, and immediately be looking for a solution.  A rational way to appease everyone.  He knows that not everyone likes him.  He knows there are some who are exceptionally critical.  He has respect for these opinions, even.  As his wife, the one who has seen the countless hours put into the job, who has been the sole caregiver during all those hours away, this hurts my heart.  To be a municipal representative in these modern times is more difficult than ever before.  Anyone, anywhere can reach out, from behind the brightness of their screen, and type whatever disgusting thing they want.  Sometimes, the social media remarks are positive.  Far, far too often, they are nothing more than bullying.

I support those who are stepping up and throwing their hats into the ring.  It's fairly difficult to be a top critic of a current council, and not have your stakes put in.  It shows passion, and a willingness to  try to make things better.  What I worry about, however, is that there are individuals who have not done their research.  They have never attended a council meeting in chamber.  They may never even have been a volunteer.  Perhaps they know what toll this will take on their family, but perhaps not.  Maybe they know they are mentally tough and can handle the constant criticism.  But maybe not. There will be times when you will carry the stress of your own life, as well as the stress of a towns future.  This is big.  This means a lot, to us, the voters, that you are able to carry, and manage all of these stresses, with grace and poise.  You will no longer have social media as an outlet, as you are a representative of this town.  I worry that there are people who are simply unaware of the weight of the positions they're running for.

I'm writing this as a bystander.  A close one, but a bystander, nonetheless.  I am not mentally tough.  I'm soft, and susceptible to criticism.  I like my alone time.  I do not like to dress up. (Another requirement - suits are a must.  Have you considered that in your families' budget?)  Running for council isn't even on my radar.  My hope is that my husband holds a seat on the next term of council.  It is what he wants, and I think he was damn good at it.  Truth be told, though?  If he doesn't get in?  Every second Monday night, I will be glad he's home, and not stressing over the decisions for the town, only to be social media fodder the following day.