Take My Breath Away

Nope, this isn't another whiny rant about asthma.

Have you ever noticed that when you see something so heartbreakingly beautiful there is no sense in taking a picture of it because the picture will turn out nothing like what you actually saw?  The eye sees color nuances that photos can't capture.  Every eye is also different in the colors it can perceive, so literally no one sees anything exactly the same way.

As I drove in to work this morning, the clouds hung below the peaks and looked so, so beautiful I wanted to snap a picture, but of course I was driving and anyway had left my phone in the trunk.

I thought about how even if I did get a photo and post it here, you would not see what I saw. Even if you had been in the car with me, you would have seen it slightly differently.

This got me to thinking about how we all see things differently, remember things differently, experience things differently.

And that simply the way we are created makes sure that this happens.  It is actually intentional.  We are supposed to all see things differently and provide our different perspectives within relationship to each other -because the only way I can get a little glimpse of how someone else sees something is if they communicate that to me.

I think about all the times I've felt like the "square peg" or "jolly green giant" or "outlier" or "different" in the many, many ways I just simply can't conform.  Usually, I just feel all weird about it, especially in a work situation where my view is so radically different than the viewpoints around me that I begin to think perhaps my perspective is invalid.

I think we have all felt that way at times and by listening to other people, our own perspectives are enriched.  Tunnel vision serves no one.

Georgia O'Keefe once said, "To see takes time, like to have a friend takes time."  I think seeing and being a friend, are kind of the same thing.

Love, Again and Again

I am one of those who feels once something is accomplished, it ought to STAY accomplished.  If you clean the house, it ought to stay clean.  If you wash the car, it ought to stay shiny.  If you learn how to take care of yourself, it ought to be second nature and require no further attention!

As you know, houses and cars don't stay clean forever, you have to keep cleaning them.  Learning how to be healthy isn't a one-time thing, either.

Someone told me recently that it takes 3-5 years to make a permanent life change if it is something big.  At least a year to establish the new behaviors, at least a year to ingrain them as habit, and another year to make it sustaining, at a minimum.  So lots of time to experience set backs.  Fall down 7 times, get up 8.

I've developed some really good habits in the last couple years -eating healthy, exercising, getting stronger and more stable. It frankly astonished me how quickly those habits faded when I started moving away from them and how easily it came back to me to be self-critical and biting.

So, I'm doing yet another reboot and focusing on the very basics: eating and exercising.  Nothing terribly complicated, it just that I have often unrealistic expectations of what I SHOULD be doing, when what I REALLY should be doing is being kind to myself and setting myself up for success.

Back to my easy to remember food rules: Eat every 3-4 hours, and eat protein every time I eat.  Don't buy candy to just have it around.  Love myself enough to make the effort.

Sweat for 15 minutes a day.  Yeah, yeah, I was doing an hour of hardcore workouts and being all badass -but that seems really overwhelming to jump back into.  So, I'm just going to focus on getting at least 15 min of exercise in.  If I feel like doing more once I get into it, fine, but no pressure to keep going if 15 min is all I can handle.  I like getting sweaty.

I am still imperfect at the love stuff.  Love is patient and kind and nonjudgmental.  I can try practicing that with myself, too.

1Cor 13: 4-8
⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

⁸ Love never fails.

Why I Train

Shannyn Caldwell wrote a blog yesterday that made me think quite a bit.

http://iknowurbutwhatami.wordpress.com/2012/10/18/the-why-that-makes-me-cry/

I especially thought about this as I shivered in the chill at Buffalo Park last night waiting for the run to start, and already hacking up a lung.  I ran 2 minutes and thirty seconds, and could not recover.  My chest was actually aching and even after walking two minutes, I could not actually speak.

So, last night, the run was done after about 5 minutes!

But I as I walked back to my car, waving at the all the other runners, I pondered some more.  Why AM I doing this?  This question nagged me during the drive home, drinking a protein shake, heading out again to the volleyball game.

I want to be engaged in my own life, and actually be in my body.

I spent so much of my life numb to what was going on around me and to me and by me.  When something awful happened, I simply dissociated, took my head to my happy place of rainbows and unicorns and hid my body -on the roof or under the bed, or as I grew older, under layers of baggy clothes and excess fat.  I did a lot of stuff that I could hardly credit later during my rare moments of lucidity.

I remember thinking -this doesn't matter, it is just my body, it isn't ME.  ME never gets touched or hurt or broken.

The light went on a couple years ago, when a dear friend pointed out that God made us to have bodies and that our bodies are just as much US as our souls are.  When we are resurrected, we will have bodies again.  We are not body or soul, we are both.

And then God told me that I do matter, and my body does matter, and He would heal me if I let Him.

This has been a long and difficult and amazing and delightful and terrifying and exuberant process, this figuring out how to live my life and be me.  Running and getting stronger every day helps me glory in this miracle that I was born and have a healthy body and have a purpose, even if I'm not entirely sure what it is.

I had a moment walking into work this morning.  It is homecoming weekend and we are crawling with alumni and parents visiting.  I'm on my way to a board meeting, so I actually made effort with a suit and make-up.  A woman was hissing at her college-age daughter who was wearing pajamas and a hoodie (high college fashion right now, BTW!)  Her daughter was slumped and looked so sad.  As I stood waiting for traffic to pass, she hissed in a low voice to her daughter, "Look at her!  She is a big girl, too, but look how gorgeous she looks!  She is put together and standing straight.  Why can't you at least TRY?"

And a million memories of my own mom doing pretty much that flooded through me, and the sharpest memories of the various humiliations I felt, knowing I was not the daughter she wanted and could never live up to whatever was in her head.

And all of that came flooding out my mouth in a simple, "Your daughter is beautiful.  Stop trying to beat her pretty out of her and make her in your own image."

I was wearing my name tag, so it is entirely possible I will be getting a phone call to come visit my boss later today, I don't care.  What I said probably made no difference in the grand scheme of things.

I just thought it needed to be said.

Well-Placed Prayer

I have knee jerk reactions for certain times I pray.

Plane take-offs and landings and when it gets waaay bumpy.  Ever since I read an article that said most plane crashes happen on takeoff and landing, I decided to say an Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory Be and St. Michael's Prayer during those times -or if I'm saying a rosary anyway, I just keep it up.  It isn't even to "keep me safe."  I just want my head in the right place if the plane does in fact crash.

That habit is now so deeply ingrained that when I actually WAS on a plane that crash landed, I found myself doing the exact same thing (while putting on the oxygen mask, of course!) (BTW, the most emotional part of being in a plane crash is NOT actually the crash itself, or even the screeching of the other passengers, it is watching all the moms with babies solemnly curling themselves around them and whispering love into their ears.)

So, these sorts of habits are quite useful.

I also say a rosary in my head when I'm on a treadmill or going running without Roxy.  WITH Roxy, I'm talking to her most of the time.

So, yesterday, as I was doing planks with Jesse-the-Trainer, and I cast about for anything to think about except how much was I not enjoying the experience, I lit on the Hail Mary, which takes about 20 seconds to pray if you do so thoughtfully.  Well, that makes planks WAY easier!

So, as I left training last night, all wobbly, I felt this WAVE of sadness pass over me and felt tears well up.  I was like, Okay, God, WTF?? 

I finally had to talk to God about it because every time I've left the gym since we switched to evening workouts, I've been in tears within minutes.

Then God reminded me of how when my SIL and I would work out together in MN, she'd turn into a growly bear until we connected she needed to eat something right after working out.  That made life better for everyone.

Hmm, well, the last time I ate was about 6 hours before.  That never happened with morning workouts because I always ate breakfast beforehand.

I'm sad because I am hungry.  Thank you, God, for pointing that out to me.  I will try to talk to you first the next time.

Note to self: Eat something!

Running in a Pack

I was dreading going to running club.  DREADING.  Last week was so miserable I cried for two days after.

Yesterday morning, as I delivered my promised coconut- choc chip -crack macaroons to our public radio station, I discovered that the running club that manages the beginner running class I do was staffing the phone lines.  So, there I was, carrying in a boatload of extremely unhealthy cookies, ones that ought to come with a surgeon general's warning, and they are waving and saying hi, etc..

I know a few people in the regular running club -Stephanie, who talked me into trying the running class, some work colleagues, a couple folks from my church.  Steph was there and hugged me and promised to be at the track that evening.

I actually felt better knowing that people who love me outside my nascent ability to run would be there.  I KNOW no one is judging me, but it feels perfectly terrible to be so publicly awful at something.  It is really nice when hardcore runners come up and hug you and are proud of you just for showing up.

MK and I gave each other "pep talks" mid-afternoon.  No matter how much it sucks, we just have to show up, that's all.  We made escape plans.  We decided that if it is horrible we will just go run by ourselves at a local park during this time.  We conspired on how to let the organizers know how horrid running at the track is without hurting their feelings, of course, because they are awfully nice people.

So, we show up at the track.  A couple of people came up and thanked me for the cookies earlier in the day.  Then, having had a rough day at work, the very last thing I wanted to hear was: Today, we shall run 3 minutes, walk 90 seconds, lather rinse repeat.

I looked at MK and just muttered, Forget it, I'm out, I can't do this.

"Yes, you can," she whispered back, "and if you can't then do 2 minutes and walk the rest." One of my downline staff (who is an advanced runner) overheard us and patted my back and said, "Please stay, just try."

Scowly face.  I could feel my throat close up and tears begin to well.

Forest-the-running-coach must have seen the look on my face because he walked over and said, Look if you want to, you can just run 2 minutes, walk the rest, do what you can can, and if you want, you can just walk the laps, or you can run 3/4 of it and walk the rest and ignore the timing. 

I could not even look at him.  I just nodded grimly and started jogging when MK did.  I was trying to breathe deep and not burst into tears.

Forest jogged with us and kept up a steady stream of chatter, and after the first set, said, "Slow your pace down a bit and that will help you.  Stick with MK."

The last lap MK and I encouraged Forest to tell us about all his bad runs and had us laughing out loud when he shared a friend of his wanted to win during a workout so badly he shoved him into a trash can as they were running.

It made me feel better knowing that even great runners have horrid days.

We did six laps in all (eight if you count the warm up and cool down) and the track is 400 meters.  And I actually DID it, and felt all sweaty and gross and awesome afterwards.

And Forest could not HELP but smirk, "And here you thought you couldn't do it."

Happy St. Hedwig's Day!

As everyone knows, Oct 16 is the feast of St. Hedwig of Silesia.  Okay maybe not EVERYONE, but I'm trying to find a reason to like October 16th.

Traditionally, October is a horrid month for my family anyway, (several deaths during this month!) but since my mom died on this date 14 years ago, and last year on this exact same date was a horrible day, I am simply not fond of this day. 

I always swore if I ever got married, it would be in October, just to reclaim the month.  Heck, my niece Amelia wanted to avoid October so much, she hung on to be born until November 1!  Smart girl!

Out of curiosity, I checked to see what St. Hedwig is the patron saint of:  Bavaria, Duchesses, Silesia, Victims of Jealousy, Brides, Death Of Children, Difficult Marriages, Widows, Orphans.

After reading a couple short bios on her, I have a great deal of respect for the woman.  SEVEN kids!  Then basically became a nun after the kids were raised and her husband died.  And other interesting stuff.  But her life was not one sheltered from the storms and she kept the faith.

I really respect that.

Sometimes when things get so perfectly dark and you can't see any sort of light at the end of the tunnel, it is perfectly reasonable to give up.  Any sensible person would.

But hope drives us on, and faith makes us persevere.  Which makes me think being Christian is perfect for all us irrational people.

Jeremiah 29:11: I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans for your welfare and not your detriment, to give you a future and a hope.

Angels Whispering

Okay, so... hmmm... sometimes it might be that I put off doing stuff that scares me.  Like, well, dealing with student loan people or perhaps maybe my taxes.

Yes, I'm a tax attorney and I do my own taxes out of pride, but put them off until today because I had extra complicated stuff and was frankly worried about the financial hit.  And yes, I do know all about interest and penalties.

Today I sort of had the day off work.  I had taken vacation time, but ended working a half day anyway due to some deadlines.  Anyway, I met my dear friend Michelle for lunch and confided I had not yet done my taxes.

"It's less scary to know than to not know.  Just do them and find out," she urged me.

Now, once I had decided to keep extending the deadline, I had kind of forgotten about them.  For some reason today they were on my mind.

So, I bit my lip, grabbed my forms, and did my taxes.  Found out today is the last day to efile -so if I hadn't filed them TODAY, I would have quite a wait on my refund.

Yep, I said refund.  I did get money back.

I had built up the scariness in my mind to the point I didn't even want to think about them, much less DEAL with them.  And all that anxiety for nothing.

Huh.  Almost like worry doesn't accomplish much.  Hard to believe.