the walk back

I’ve spent two long back-to-back nights up with a headache & nose bleeds, a 2 day headache & the kind of nose bleeds that don’t stop.  My work-outs are reasonably moderate, my diet impeccable, my hydration good, but I haven’t checked any of my levels in well over a month.  Power through it right?  I start my run and I can feel how underpowered I am.  Less than 20 minutes in I turn around to walk back home.

I mark the run in training log & add a note to today’s to do list: call Dr. re/test strips & a levels check.  You win some, you lose some, you run some, you walk some, but at least you are ‘some-ing’.

feeding the fuel of fear

I was sitting in the passenger seat watching the sand dunes rise and fall then rise again.  Out of the corner of one eye I was watching Colby making sure he was at least watching some of the road as he stared up towards the red cliffs.  Out of the other I was watching something that wasn't there.  Tiny bubbles of memories floating above the van barely formed before vanishing into dry desert air: my sister in the backseat of the station wagon holding a soda & laughing, my sister asleep against the window angry and pouting that I had touched her pillow...there are sounds and smells, a whole childhood spent driving this stretch of highway heading for the cool paradise of Lake Powell. 

At some point it slowly settled in, this may not be normal to linger with the dead like this. 

The van clips a stone in the road it crashes like thunder flashing orange through my mind and I flinch.  In a blink of an eye I can see a hundred other moments falling.  I open my eyes.  And it is all gone, sort of.  We all have these memories and moments that haunt us, perhaps they are failures we forgot to grow from, or Loves lost, or the dark side of man looming over head.  Mine suddenly remind me of a door in a giant flat brick wall flying open in the wind.  Banging against the fame, papers fly out scattering and the door bangs shut as if nothing has happened.

Fact: It takes more energy to ignore than it does to focus. 

More thoughts settle.  I didn’t realize the battle I fight within my mind to keep this door shut was actually this constant.  I thought it was here or there. 

But it’s not. 

It is here and there, and it is all the time.

 

Everyday I stand with my back to the door trying to hold it shut and pretend I'm not.  What if I decide today is the day I stop.  What if today I slide down the wall out of the way and I let her go?  What will happen? 

It is curious, I don't even have the slightest idea if walking from my post will be losing or winning this fight? What I do know is I want yesterday standing in the kitchen of the Boy trying to tell him something important (something really important!) and not being able to get the words out to be the last time that happens to me- EVER.  If I start down that road the one marked 'I don't really talk about this a lot but...' I want to be able to follow it until I have said what needs to be said.

It is strange, when I think about it I see myself step aside and open the door peeking inside.  What I see is my garden, then the waving yellow grasses of the back field, and beyond that the endless desert.  I walk through to the other side. The whole world is silent over there, even the wind.  And the pages of paper are blank. 

Be careful what you wish for the door may swing both ways.  

Perhaps I should have decided which side of the wall I wanted to defend before I walked through it.   

Every day you either see a scar or courage. 

Where you dwell will define your struggle.  ~Dodinsky~

Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear.  ~Ambrose Redmoon~

zombie mom strikes back

Honestly got stuck for a moment in the bathroom this morning because my triceps are so sore I couldn't turn the knob.  Yes, I mean my triceps & not my forearm. That was before I headed out  for a workout.  I told Colby in passing I might only be walking, perhaps running, but no way was I hitting the mat today.  I worried my arms were too sore to hold plank, that lateral burpees could go to hell, up and overs aren't happening, & box jumps- yeah right!!.  I had to at least go out & try...and in 60 minutes I had finished the workout start to end full reps and full speed. 

It's a mystery really, where does that power come from? Oh yeah, it is taken from my brain.  I have near zero cognitive powers left.  TMI: last night in the hot tub I snuggled up to the Birthday Boy who had spent literally all of HIS day under my car replacing a CV boot & some linkage thing that makes Little Red go vroom-vroom.  I whispered in his ear I wish I had a snorkel which caused him to burst out laughing.  Not the response I was looking for but as I thought it over I realized the flaw in my line of thought (if you missed it I'm not explaining it, putting it in here is bad enough!). 

So what am I doing all this for? Why am I kicking the shit out of myself (excuse the French) 6 days a week? Then pretending I can resume normal function as a farming-home-educator-housewife? (wait?!?! when did I marry a house?) I am doing it for one giant selfish reason.  It has nothing to do with good health (sorry) or the way I look in jeans (whatever).  It might start as one of those but my attention span is way too short to see either of those pay off.  I am in it for instant gratification of beating myself.  Telling yourself you can't then proving yourself wrong, may not be the way the experts tell you to go about getting it done. In fact, often "can't" is labeled a dirty word but for me "can't" is the waving red flag of a perfect challenge.  Yesterday's successes or failures are tomorrows opportunities.  Girl at play, play Girl, play!               

rx for afternoon zombie mom-mom

I found a new happy spot (aka a workout) but I think there is a small issue I need to fix.  The workout is called Cross-Running (it goes by other names too) and the idea is to mix the cardio of running with the ass kicking cardio/strength training of crossfit into one deadly package.  Oh do I love it!  It works like this: run 4 minutes balls out, 1 minute lateral burpees, run 4 minutes balls out, 1 minute up & overs….you get the idea repeat 10 times with the most ruthless moves one can think to do, cool down, collapse~ happy, happy, joy, joy! 

Okay so far so good what isn’t so good is at 1:15 today I was crashed out face down in a spilled cup of coffee in my bed, yes literally sleeping in a puddle.  I have been complaining about this afternoon crash ever since I began (& how it proves the effectiveness of the workout).  It's funny there is an A circuit & a B one, the crash only occurs on A days and yet the exercises in each set are comparable to each other.  Suppose it is time to consult (3 weeks later...) the Big Dr. Dog because this is a drug I can't walk away from, way too much fun to stop here!!!       

empty ground

It started innocently enough as a thought: what should I plant in the garden this year?  And my mind jumped to the southeast corner of the garden space to Kilo’s grave.  I couldn’t stop think about him, about his sleek blackness slipping through the gates that morning.  And everything else that followed that day.

His life is hard to believe.  From a stray dog living out of garbage cans to the red sand of Best Friends to us and the green grass, the lakes, & the mountains. 

I’m not really lamenting the loss of dog, more the loss of a million more moments he might have had.

Ginger’s antics fill the day with the most hilarious dog tales.  My original complaint that she didn’t seem to NEED me has vanished, although she is too small.  In so many ways she is the perfect dog for me.  When she pulls on the leash it doesn’t throw out my shoulder, she listens, she follows, she mostly returns, and she doesn’t understand fetch any better than I do.  She is my dog and I love her, buttered dog food, messy kennel, cup thieving, and all. 

What I want is a chance to undo my choices that morning.  I wish I would have known he was dying I would have sat in the back of car and held him until he passed but in my rush to save his life he died alone.

And you may all think I am big jerk for coupling the two but it is also my biggest, maybe the single regret, I have over my sister’s death, that she died alone.  I don’t know why that matters to me so much.  Alone is one of the best states of being a person can have. 

Don’t worry, I’m not wrecking a perfectly good day over things long gone I am simply wondering what to plant on empty ground…

simply me

As the school bus pulls away outside in the January rain (not snow) I am listening to Beach and Colby in the warm kitchen making crepes together.  Before I finish this post Colby will be gone, off to work leaving us the whole day, a whole day to discover, a whole day to learn, a whole day alone here. 

It is brave new world on the R&B farm, last night I sent a copy of one of my manuscripts to the man requesting a chance to see it.  This isn’t a true step towards getting published it is more like an indulgence, a rather green editor wanting to see the whole picture of something that caught his eye. 

The day is supposed to be warm and wet which means muddy floors but I am told it is snowing in the mountains.  I have writing to do, some cleaning, a date with the treadmill at the rec. center, three novels (of Beach’s) all so close to the end I’m sure they will be done today, subtraction action, the list with Beach is endless.    

This day asks me: are you sure you know what you are doing?

Yeah, that is a good question.  Right now I’m peaceful content, tittering on the edge of happiness.  Happiness in the grey, unsure, but traveling anyway. 

In my mind there is a cabin in the woods surrounded by miles of mountain running trails, maybe a lake, and no one around for miles.  It is always Autumn, there is always coffee, and blankets and the perfect big chair with the perfect view of nothing but towering trees.  I am a writing there.

I found a truth yesterday I can’t hide from so I’m not going to anymore.  This is who I am.  And that is where you can find me in an imaginary cabin in the woods collecting words to tell stories. 

It is what I want.

I am day dreaming of a trail bathed in sunlight, of a moment in time when I am alone moving under my own power towards what I want for myself. 

Number 1 on that short list of 5 is this: follow your dreams all the way up that mountain, and this time don't let anyone or anything stop you until you reach the summit.         

a step towards the dark side

I have officially jumped into the CrossFit Gang.  This may sound totally crazy but I have been fighting to get in good enough shape to cross over for sometime now.  I am not actually in that shape yet hence the two Hispanic males in the gym watching me sprint on the treadmill comment: That whitey fat girl is kicking our asses.  But yesterday I got tired of waiting, took the leap of no faith & did it anyway.  Both of my Doctors are optimistically horrified but you know what?  I feel fantastic today, hell, I felt fantastic yesterday laying on the ground ass totally kicked.  And don't ask me to twist left or right or breath too deeply but nothing is broken including my nose from that knee meet nose event doing Lateral Burpees.  

This was #5 on my short list of what I want for me in the here and now.  It wasn't the bottom of the list becasue it was the least important, it was a the bottom becasue it lays the foundation for the other 4.    

CrossFit, you had my total respect before but now you have my absolute allegiance & anything else you want.   

Note to Doctors who want me to do yoga and take long walks maybe take up golf: yeah, nope, smile this way.

holding fast to without

It was a phone call I wasn’t expecting. 

The second I hear his voice I audibly gasp. 

“You’re still breathing, that’s a good thing.” He nervously states. 

I say his name wrapped in stupid astonishment across time and space. 

He laughs at me, “And mentally alert, that’s a good thing too, Sweetness.”

I ask him “To what do I owe this honor, Doctor?”

“I’m calling to tell you not to be scared, not to give up, that everything is okay.”

“He told you.” I say then I begin crying.  It is mixture of embarrassment & relief.  I had relayed some private medical concerns to one man & he had passed them along to the other, gossiping men, perplexing grown boys still fighting in the play yard.   

“Yes,” he lowers his voice.  I know him well enough to know this means he is hanging his head, pinching the bridge of his nose carefully finding his words, treading awkwardly, “he is a better friend to you than doctor.” There is a pause.  “Misty…” Another pause, “please, don’t give up.”  And we start talking.  Past our current conversation, past all his reassurances I hear a conversation that took place in the wind a long time ago, shouts falling in whispers of how to be brave.  It's hard to believe we ever had that conversation.  Hell, it’s hard to believe he and I are having THIS conversation, talking about my body & its short comings with a man who with one look into his eyes renders me totally speechless.  One word I am laughing so hard I might pee my pants.  One memory I am in tears.  One moment in time I was his.  I was the woman he loved.  At some point I tell him, “This body is like a fucking cage.” 

“When you are scared it scares me.” He admits. 

“I didn’t know anything could scare you.”  “Misty, please, don’t be scared.  God has a reason.  You were given this fight because you are capable of doing this.” 

“You know I don’t believe in God.” 

“But you believe in me?”

“Yes Dear.  In you I believe.” 

When we hang up I hold the phone in my hand & start crying again.  I’m no longer scared, well mostly not scared, not scared enough to cry over.  These are those tears you get when you line up in a sea of pink shirts for the Race for the Cure or when a baby is born: tears of being overwhelmed by the vastness of universe and all that is to come.  Tears of gratitude.  I’m also crying because I miss you, and ‘that’s a good thing’.  Missing you has always been the iron rod I cling to.  Without the idea of you I am totally lost. 

I’m going to be just fine; I’m going dry my eyes and carry on with you without you.  Thank you for everything.                 

beach goes to daycare

Sometimes moms do things they don’t love in the name of necessity sanity.  Sometimes we just think about doing them.  Example: we were sitting in the back row at the swearing in ceremony at the City & County building surrounded by police, private security, fire, our finest citizens and civic leaders, so this is obviously the best place in downtown SLC for a mother to abandon her 8 yr happily seated eating nuts like a little squirrel to go put quarters in the parking meter.  Except I’m pretty sure it would also be the best place for a mother to get arrested for child endangerment and that is why I have a $15 parking ticket verses a date in family court. 

Enter the local community center and it wonderful treadmills.  Treadmills which allow me (sick-o) to run but not be too far from help if the need arise (please don’t tell the staff that last part, they’d freak!).  Add to that lure of running in place a descending & extremely inaccurate voice regarding the purchase/use of previous gym passes.  You want me to do something ask nicely.  It works best if you are a man.  If you need me to do something tell me I can’t or tell me I don’t/didn’t.  Then get out of the way as fast as you can.  FYI, I’m going to use the hell out that pass.  But there is a little glitch to the plan that 8 year old squirrel named Beach, I seem to be her stay at home mom and home school teacher…..hum, so I can go early when it is crowded and late when it is crowded.  Crowded equals 30 minute time limits on the treadmills.  Reverting back to the life where showering makes no sense because you are headed to the gym morning 30 minutes and night 30 minutes which still shorts me my usual 90 minutes. OR they have childcare for a buck-fifty so you can go at off peak hours 'mommy hours'.

Okay, first of all no way will she agree to go to baby care.

And second, no way will I leave her there.

So we talk about it agree that if either of us feels bad about it we will simply walk away.

Oddly enough she got really excited, so excited she couldn’t sleep!

I however am her mother.  I remember the phone calls home from Sego Lily, I remember the fingers gripping the play yard bars at Kindergarten.  I can’t stomach the idea of me running happily & her in misery.

We spent the morning doing math and reading then dashed out the door when I read the day hours ended at 11!!!  Once at the center we located the daycare.  Mommy lie number one: it is the same the building as the gym.  In fact, it is not really in the same building as the gym.  She forgave me my ignorance. 

Mommy lie number two: there will be one maybe two other kids.  Well seven is sort of like two and I didn’t lie about them being younger- they were all babies!!!

It was nice and clean and we greeted so sweetly but my heart said NO. 

Beach however said YES.  I left Beach and bunny at a small table to color.

Okay, I can admit I shortened my work out.  I couldn't stand the worry.  I did 30 minutes on the treadmill & 20 on the bike then sprinted back to the daycare (sprints are good). 

Through the glass I could see her still sitting at the table.  It looked to me like she was gazing out waiting for me to come back.  >sigh<  Well, she wasn’t.  She was doing a puzzle with one of the nice ladies.  She had colored 2 pictures and lived through a baby with an airplane crash landing on the table.  She told me they did have food but it was that ‘tube of yogurt thing’ aka goyurt and ‘that cylinder cheese that falls apart’ aka String Cheese.  She said she would happily come back any day…funny although that works great for me I don’t love it.  Give me time.  Until then it is me, meanwhile back at the gym running in place and Beach the brave being Beach where ever she is.

             

message in a bottle

Life on the island of Stumble Trip is not going well.  Part of me wants to say a whole lot about the specific issues I’m facing here and part of me would like to keep some semblance of dignity.  So I will skip all the not so sexy details, the three days in bed over winter break, and land on something solid we can work with: the island is facing a population crisis and I can’t live like this.

Things have to change, that little infection I can’t quite kick needs to go away.  It needs to pack its little bags and take its buddies with it, especially that stomach ulcer who keeps popping his head out from behind the palm trees & the creep who is fogging up my kidneys.  This island just isn’t big enough for all of us.  I have plans for this place it really could be paradise but right now it’s a disaster.  Believe it or not I have been doing everything I should do to not have this happen.  What is bringing me down is STRESS.   

I know it is dangerous to question this but are we at the bottom yet, any more coming my way?  I just ask because when we do reach the bottom I’m going to use that barrel it comes to pack these guys up and ship them off.             

Funny, I feel better already.  I think later today I might take a run along the shoreline of this little island, get a good look around.  If this is what I have to work with, if this is where I am then it is a damn fine thing that I like a good challenge...

~Physical heal thy self~ Aesop’s Fables, The Quack Frog

   

delusions of a mental health day

Today is my day off, theoretically.  It is the day that my partner in educational crime over at Joyful Liberation takes my Beach to do things with her I can’t.  Complicated things like arts & crafts & Girl Scout Songs. 

I should be hiking but I don’t have time- today is only a half day off because at 3 we ski!!!

I should be running but the air sucks!  Okay it doesn’t suck it tastes bad I tried it earlier & stopped running at mouthful, I mean mile 3.

I should be writing but my head is dead silent.

I could read but I don’t want to.

I could soak but I don’t want to do that either.

So I have an idea.  Last night I made an orange-cornmeal cake.  Holy cow good!  I think I’m going make me another & while it is baking tackle some jump squats with Jillian.  When the cake cools I am going walk it to this little family that lives in the rundown apartments at the top of my street & give it to them for no reason at all.

I should be and could be a whole lot of things today but sometimes you just have to stop & listen to your heart.  Mine says: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

I suppose I just need to feel a little bit loved today. 
And in case you feel like you need a little slice of love too here is the link to the recipe. 

turn right at the fork in the road

A while back I started training again, part to better my physical health & part my mental.  I like to think of this whole side adventure as stumble-tripping.  See, that saying falling isn't what matters it is the getting back up that counts.  Well metaphorically or one soft ground that is true but on a steep rocky mountain side NOT falling at all is pretty damn important- trip all you want but try to stay on your feet. 

So we join this little journey back to great health already interrupted & in progress.  The whole reason I am writing this today is I think I just torn something at or around my elbow but honestly dislocating your elbow would be quite amazing!  I know I have done it before, with it went the muscles and tendons in my forearm & my triceps.  Oddly enough I'm not sure how that happened either. 

As for today all I know is one minute of sheer hell & giant success I was doing full one plank-jacks, walking push-ups, & plyometrics with my buddy Jillian (the only Trainer I know of who says "I want you to feel like you are going to die..." in the middle of a work out DVD).  After a nice shower my coffee arm wasn't working right.  I noticed the lowered range of motion then I noticed oh-yeah this hurts too....have I ever told you that I have instant karma. Me laughing at Colb for being sore from a hike & BAM(!) I am left standing here wondering exactly how do you wrap your funny bone?

What would Jillian do?  She tell me to "get up, get up, there is no resting..."  Nobody panic I can drink left.