Potential

(Thanks to my baby daddy for the great picture above, I'd link to his website but I don't know that he wants to give up his anonymity here)

I’m awash in potential, I’m bathing in it. It’s glorious stuff, the whiff of promise, the heady scent of possibility. I finally scratched a scratch ticket that I’ve been carrying around this morning and found I much more enjoyed carrying around the possibility of having won than the proof that I hadn’t.

My apologies for the very very very long absence. I imagine the handful of folks who subscribed way back when will be the only ones to see this for awhile, I’m sure I’ve dropped way off the bookmarks tab of most folks who were regular readers. I have reasons that are legitimate mixed in with a dose of laziness to blame.

Among the legitimate reasons is the same one I’d asserted before, so much of my focus has been on details of my personal life that I didn’t want to share in such a public forum. And since I’ve stopped doing bootcamp or running its been hard to come back here and type in black and white that I’ve stopped doing bootcamp or running.

I had an injury, I let it go longer than I should have, I attempted to run the ING Half despite it even though I’d dropped way off my training and then found myself in significantly worse shape afterwards.

I DID finish the ING Half, I just had to walk the last 4 miles in a lot of pain. So it wasn’t so much a half marathon for me as it was a 15K race with a 4 mile cool down. Since the half I haven’t done ANYTHING significantly physical and I’m slowly but surely regaining weight. For a little while I was over indulging as a way to sooth myself for the near constant pain and discomfort, I’m starting to reign my diet back in and I’ve probably only gained 5 lbs but its still hard to face. Easier to just lose myself in more pleasant thoughts and distracting activities.

I start physical therapy tomorrow and I had a procedure 2 weeks ago that has significantly helped though not completely eradicated the problem. I’m probably about 60-70% myself again, no longer taking pain meds except at night, but I still have trouble with some types of movements and don’t feel up to anything significant involving my left leg. We’ll see how the PT goes and I may opt to redo the procedure (an epidural shot). I think a picture speaks most clearly, here is an image from my MRI in the week after the ING:




The prolapsed disk has been significantly putting pressure on the nerve root that connects everything from my left lower back all the way down to my left foot. Therefore I get pains of all sort throughout my left foot, leg and hip and, disconcertingly, the left leg and foot fall asleep regularly or just go numb completely. Once we get the disk back into place then hopefully with PT I can work towards preventing it from happening again but it will always be a potential, and not the sweet smelling kind. Doctor says I can be active but that it could happen again while working out or while just picking up a bag of groceries. I may need to seriously consider some lower impact cardio. I’d like to start running again, but maybe not push towards a marathon. My whole life was turned upside down by the pain and it is terrifying to feel so controlled by something within your own body that you just can’t push past or ignore.

Blogging about my fall from the runner’s high was also difficult to face because of the CNN Interview. Yep, after Tim was interviewed back in the winter, CNN asked Operation Bootcamp to nominate another story, this time one that was more focused on a typical weightloss goal and the benefits beyond weightloss. So I got profiled. I was followed by a camera man through a workout and then interviewed in a sit down interview. The link is here.

I actually felt very good about the piece (except for the scene where they are filming from behind while I’m doing High Knees and the mike pack is pulling my pants down) but seeing the commitment I made on camera juxtaposed with the significant amount of time I’ve sat on my couch since then is painful, and hard to own up to, injury or no injury.

In other news, I’ve changed jobs, and moved to a new house, a rental that we’ll be in for at least a year.

[I've edited out the rest of the post for now. We throw words out toward each other and miss completely, or wound inadvertently. When those words are verbal, there is no way to even symbolically withdraw them. When they are written in a web for others to read, they can be withdrawn, at least from further wounding. I want to breathe somehow without exhaling]

Unmoored

(Art by Nichola Moss)

I'm not lost, but I definitely feel unmoored. And I have a hunch that is ok. I have lines I can throw to a dock if and when I decide to set foot ashore again. It's not all drifting in bliss of course, being unmoored means being susceptible to storms, high seas and monsters of the deep. Terror and exhilaration are once again intertwined. And in the midst of the two I find myself acutely aware of minutia. An impossibly long eyelash resting on my son's cheek. The sheen of a taut and new apple. Dust in the sunshine. The sensation of being enveloped by steam in the shower. Cloth against skin. The texture of strawberries. The space between breaths.

I feel in touch with it all, my senses awash with the connectedness. Minutes take days.

There have been dark clouds, lightning flashes, crashes of thunder. I was naive to think I could avoid them. I am suddenly aware of the depths beneath me. But turning back to shore doesn't feel right. For better or worse I'm unmoored NOW. And now is really all I can focus on for the moment.

The days do pass though, and things happen in each one. For instance, I have a new job. Another one that I had not interviewed with before called and invited me in on a Wednesday morning. That very night they called and offered me a great position doing what I want to be doing. I gave my notice the next day, my last day is Thursday, February 28. My first day isn't until March 10. I'm going to enjoy some more of these long long minutes in between.

I managed 12 miles yesterday. I say managed because I didn't run all of them, I did 5 minute 1 minute run/walk intervals. With a couple of extra walking bits on two truly brutal hills (West on McLendon towards Little 5 Points and up N. Highland through Old Fourth Ward towards downtown). I had fallen very far off the wagon in the two weeks previous, so far that all I could see of it was a dust cloud in the distance. I managed a couple of mornings of Tae-Bo videos but that was all. Very unfocused. Still, I did the 12 miles, in a not totally unrespectable time (2:39). A sub 3 hour half is still attainable. I wore my ipod for the first time during a run because I was alone for all of it. I actually enjoyed it, it was really reflective, I have a lot of bluesy and soulful stuff on my ipod at the moment and it all fit. Running through classic Atlanta neighborhoods, many of them scenes out of my life, and just BEING in my own skin. I finally found a glorious downhill at the end turning right off Glen Iris onto Ralph McGill with my car off in the distance just as Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield came on. That song, top 40 and all, is totally my mantra at the moment, I couldn't believe the timing. I flew down the hill, my soul fluttering in the brisk wind. And to top it all off I think one of my toenails is dying! I can't tell if its turning black or not because of the nail polish but it totally feels kind of loose and dead. How cool is that? Jennifer Daniels has a song where she talks about scars being the tattoos that God designs for people to remind them of significant moments. I think that is so true, and that is definitely what my tattoos mean for me. Its also why I like scars and quirky injuries so much, seeing wounds like that transports you instantly to the moment you received them. In my case each one feels like I've earned something through the pain.

Finally, the house will officially be listed tomorrow. It is all pristine at the moment, ready for the first wave of potential buyers. As right as I know letting go of the house IS, I know I will cry at the closing table. And then I'll go to wherever my new home is and I'll appreciate some more of those long minutes. I'm learning, finally, how little I really need to be happy.

Simplicity

You know how angst breeds art? Turns out contentment and peace breeds complacency, at least for me. I'm doing well, therefore I have felt less impetus to write. My running continues to go well, it is more interesting to write about struggles. But for those who keep clamoring that I need to update . . . here goes:

I'm on boot camp hiatus for February. I plan to attend when I can in March but for now Clint is in South Africa on an extended visit and I don't have childcare. Once he's back we will be sharing custody and I'll be able to go to boot camp on mornings Chase is with him. I've also been juggling a lot of other stuff (some challenging, like getting the house ready to sell, some fun like getting to know new friends better) so I must admit that my workout schedule last week was kind of pitiful. I need to find some good cardio to do in my living room, I'm getting really bored with jumping jacks! And I haven't managed to run during the week because I get home with Chase too late to have him go to a friend's house. I'll figure it out.

Two Saturdays ago (ok, it has been a while since I've updated!) the OBC ING training team dropped back to a 5 mile run after our 9 miler the week before. I had such a great run with the 9 miles that I expected the 5 to be easy but it was actually very challenging for some reason. I've really discovered that no matter how many variables I try to influence, some days my body wants to run and some days it doesn't, even when my mind thinks it does! That 5 mile run was like that, slow and heavy and painful. Despite that, yesterday's 10 mile run rocked! The first 8 miles I felt awesome, strong, sure of myself, breathing well. The last two miles got longer and longer but I knew all the way through that I'd get there. It was also a great run because I really circled all of midtown and downtown. I was born and grew up in Atlanta but I'm getting to know the city so much more intimately now, at street level. I was amazed at the number of buildings that I took a good look at yesterday realizing that for all the times I've driven by them I'd never noticed them before. We started on the GA tech campus, headed north, through Atlantic Station, across the 17th St. Bridge, all the way down Peachtree past Underground Atlanta, across on Mitchell, back up Spring past the GA Dome, through Centennial Park, back over to Marietta St. and all the way up back to the Tech Campus. When I was running north through Centennial Park I had a clear view of the Wachovia Building at Atlantic station, which I had run by earlier. It was amazing to have that sense of perspective, it seemed SO FAR away from Centennial Park.

The other thing that was amazing about this run was the solitude. Jojo couldn't run because she's nursing a sore knee. Instructor Michelle checked on me a few times during the first part but I spent 90% of the route by myself (don't worry I had my cell with me). That was two hours in my own head. I was in such a great space mentally that I actually really enjoyed it. I feel like I'm so ready for the challenges and the joy that I know are in my future. I feel more open to the future than I've ever been, and more comfortable with not knowing what it brings. I know that I am strong, I know that I will thrive even in the face of heartache. I know what happiness looks like and I know how to appreciate it, how to allow it to just BE with me. I've finally learned the value of being in the moment. The rhythm of my breathing, of my steps on the pavement, of my heartbeat has quieted my turmoil. I appreciate my lungs. My heart. My entire body has been taken for granted for too long, I'm so connected to my tissues and bones and muscles. Step by running step I am whittling away at the excess that has obscured me, physically, mentally, spiritually. I am me. Nothing more, nothing less. I am me and I run. It is good. And it really is that simple.

The Pinocchio Effect

Fitness is so much more than just a state of body. Perhaps more importantly it is a state of mind. I am confident in my own value and self worth. The fact that I have a zit, or the fact that my belly isn’t flat, or the fact that my nose looks too big from certain angles is simply irrelevant to my sense of self now. Imperfections that used to make me feel socially crippled are just not a factor anymore. I know that my core is strong, that my body is capable and that I have the ability to endure and achieve more than I can currently imagine. Who wouldn’t want that? I used to say to myself: I have a husband, therefore I must be worth something. My professors gave me good grades, therefore I must be worth something. My sense of self worth was wrapped up in the affirmation I received from others. It was wrapped up in the image I could present which showed that OTHER people approved of me, therefore you should too.

Now, my affirmation of myself is the cornerstone of the new vision I’m building. If my boss particularly loves something I do at work, its nice but its not the defining moment of my week that it used to be. If he’s upset with something I did wrong it isn’t earth shattering anymore. No matter what anyone else thinks of me or my efforts, I respect the hell out of myself when I run.

I re-read some of my older blog posts this week. I talked back in September about releasing myself from the self imposed barriers to which I had chained myself. I’m still letting go of those barriers and dropping those chains with each step that I run. But now I’m also letting go of the strings that used to control my movements. Like Pinnochio, I’m no longer reacting to strings which pull me to dance at someone else’s whim. I’m becoming REAL.

Charting My Course

I made it to boot camp twice this week thanks to my Dad and then my Stepmom sleeping over two nights. My ex had been coming over at 5:30 am (which is pretty darn nice of him I must say) but now he’s out of the country for the next 3 weeks. This was the last week of what was supposed to be my 4th boot camp. I’m torn about whether to count it or not because I attended so sporadically. I only went one day in week 2. I can’t go tomorrow for the PT test either. I’ve definitely realized that signing up for the February camp just doesn’t make sense logistically. I’ve got my son until 8 every morning and I have to pick him up by 6 in the evening (the evening boot camp starts at 6:15). I’m hoping when March rolls around Clint and I will have worked out a schedule and I can at least commit to attending most of a session.

In the meantime I’m looking for good videos/ cross training workouts I can do in my living room before my son gets up in the morning. I’m hoping I can do a couple of short runs during the week and I’ll definitely continue the long runs with the ING training group on Saturdays. I’m really excited to see that I’m building muscle definition in my arms so I’m going to pick up some resistance bands so I can continue working on that. And thanks to boot camp I now know a variety of different kinds of push ups to play with!

I’d also really like to give spinning a try, or swimming. Just don’t have the funds to get facility access at the moment although the Y does offer childcare so that would solve part of my problem. I’d love to try kickboxing and martial arts as well. My list of things I want to sample just keeps growing, having a full time job is REALLY cramping my style! I need to find someone to pay me a lot of money to write a regular column about working out. Somehow I’m figuring that market is kind of saturated . . . but hey, you never know!

I’ve also decided to sell our house. It’s just too much for me to carry on my own (heck it was kinda too much for us to carry as a couple but we were somehow scraping by each month). So if anyone is looking to move into the Decatur Area into a beautiful brand new total renovation let me know via a comment. I don’t want to post too many details here. Chase was very sad at the news (as am I) but he’s continuing to be a trooper about it. I’m hoping to rent a smaller place in the same neighborhood. I am excited about downsizing and simplifying everything in my life. I’m hoping in 6 months (if not sooner) I’ll be breathing easier financially.

I’ve been having a blast socially, getting out much more than I have in years, meeting lots of new people (including some nice dating prospects). I’m really enjoying interesting conversations over coffees and lunches and the occasional Strongbow. It’s just nice to flirt and explore. For once in my life I know that I’m attractive, I know I have a lot to offer, and I’m not questioning the fact that people seem to be interested in getting to know me better. Based upon my burgeoning social calendar I’m finding that I’m apparently in short supply and high demand!

Beating the hell out of the number 9

How NOT to handle your longest long run yet:
1. Spend the entire prior week working AND going out with friends, with moderate but steady alcohol intake and limited sleep throughout.
2. The night before, go to a party at a pub and add more alcohol into the mix, along with a healthy serving of MEAT (even though there WAS pasta on the menu).
3. Stay at said party until almost 2 a.m. telling yourself that it is rare to have the opportunity to share time engaging in thoughtful and probing conversation about a variety of scintillating topics with good friends.
4. Actually stay because you are engrossed in a drunken bout of "I Never".
5. Don't lay out what you need the night before so that you can run about cursing and stubbing your toes in the morning and then drive like a bat out of hell to get from Decatur to Piedmont Park by 8:30 am (who the heck ARE all those other people out at that hour on a Saturday????)
6. Realize as you get into the car that you haven't fueled yourself. Inhale a protein/energy bar and a lot of water and gatorade in a short span of time so that you feel bloated and like you have to pee just as you start running.
7. Feel enormously relieved as you spot the group still standing around but then realize that you can't turn and park because you are stuck at the light and panic that they will leave without you. (Even though really, even when you get there on time, most of the pack leaves without you anyway!) Honk and wave like a maniac until someone who knows you makes eye contact in the hopes that they will feel too guilty to leave without you.
8. Sprint from the distant parking spot you found to the group, arrive completely out of breath, convinced you can HEAR your body saying . . . "Oh goody, that was quick, back to bed now right?"
9. Stand around in a daze, A) not believing that you made it given that you left the house at 8:20 and B) wondering what the hell you are doing there in the first place.
10. Fail to actually look at the route that was emailed a few days ago, much less print out a copy. Take a copy from a good friend just before the run starts but then hold it in the same hand as a leaky bottle of red gatorade so that the map gets soaked with red gatorade and all the street names become too fuzzy to read.
11. Get separated from everyone else who knows where they are going before realizing that the street names have been reduced to little hairy caterpillars.
12. Figure it out anyway and thank God for the kick ass sense of direction with which you were apparently blessed.
13. Realize afterwards that had you planned your morning better you'd have been wearing the right socks and you'd have found your missing body glide and you wouldn't be sporting a blood blister that covers most of the bottom of your right arch.
14. Gross out friends, family and neighbors by showing off said monster blister because you actually feel really really proud of it, the trophy from the battle field.

And there you have it. At the end of all that, I looked myself in the eye and realized that even half of even one of those many obstacles that threatened to thwart this run would have stopped me in my tracks just few months ago. Well, that is, assuming it wouldn't have just been science fiction for me to be attempting such a thing in the first place. But had I tried such a thing back then, I would have welcomed each excuse with open arms. I would have invited each one back to my place, and settled them in around me on the couch. Excuses used to be my decorative pillows. Each one was embroidered with its version of the truth. "She's just not built for running." "She has asthma you know" "Her back is weak" "High impact activities are bad for her joints." "She's busy enough with work and family, she just doesn't have time to devote to fitness."

But this is not a few months ago. Oh I still lounge amongst those pillows from time to time, I'd be foolish to think I've left them behind forever. But now that I've discovered what I've been missing outside for all these years (and I get sad if I let myself think about how MANY years) those pillows will never have the hold on me they once did.

Yes, on Saturday I beat the hell out of my 9.38 mile run. Under some less than ideal conditions. I did a few things differently which really helped on this run. I did use gatorade and water, instead of just water. I also took cliff blocks with me. They are like large gummy cubes that you can chew or just hold in your cheek. They're made of easily digestible carbs for fueling on distance runs. This was the first distance I really felt they were warranted, now that I've tried them I really wish I'd used them on my 10K last week. Seriously, they were like rocket fuel on me. Or maybe it was a total placebo effect but either way I sure felt like I could run faster about a mile after taking them! My times seemed to prove it. Other than one tough hill in the 8th mile I was maintaining faster paces during the second half of the course than I was the first. My overall average pace was 12:28, almost 30 seconds per mile faster than my 10K race pace last week, even though this was 15K! The last time I ran with the group and did 7 miles it took me 1 hour, 31 minutes and change. This time I hit the 7 mile mark at 1 hour 25 minutes and change! Other than the blister I felt fine at the end and could have kept going. Except I was at the end and I know the risk of overtraining injuries becomes scarier the closer we get to race day. But I felt awesome and unbeatable on this 9 mile Saturday.

Chaotic

It's been a crazy week in so many ways, I have so much to blog about but haven't gotten 15 minutes to do it yet. So, in case anyone is worried, I'm ok. Wrestling with some more major decisions, rediscovering an active social life, trying to manage a household by myself for the first time with limited success and trying to not completely fall off the workout wagon. I made it to bootcamp Tuesday and Thursday and sort of Wednesday. I got there a couple of minutes late Wednesday and couldn't find them so I did a short run (almost 2 miles) and then did bootcamp exercises on my own until they came back to the meeting place. It was good to know that I can do it alone, but I also know that I didn't work nearly as hard as I would in the group. Thursday my right knee flared up again, loudly. It had been doing so well I stopped doing my routine to care for it. Yeah I know, it sounds stupid when I say it or write it too! So I couldn't really run on Thursday at camp and I had to do modifications for some of the other leg exercises too. I'm doing a recovery day today in the hopes that I can still do the 9 mile long run the training group has scheduled for tomorrow. I really think I need to incorporate some run/walk intervals now. Especially if I don't want to mess up this knee further.

I have lots more to write, my head is FULL of stuff that needs to be expressed here but I have to go to get my son from school. Planning a relatively quiet weekend so I should be able to put this back at the top of my priority list. I miss it!