Adventures in running, Uncategorized

Way too up to back down.

I RAN FOR TWO MINUTES!!!!!!

Holy moly!

I freaking basked in it.

I then made the slight mistake of looking up how long in distance that two minutes was. A bit shy of .2 miles.

I don’t know why suddenly that felt like a blow. Like I was farther from my goal. Like five more of those is undoable or something. But I suppose upon further recalculation and introspection, .2 miles in two minutes would be a mile in 10-12 minutes, if it was consistent. That ain’t bad! I’ll drive the distance tomorrow and see what it actually is. But, in any case. For now, I ran for two minutes!!!

adventures in quarantine, Adventures in running, Uncategorized

I’m marching on to the beat I drum.

In light of yesterday’s awesome, I bit the bullet and did day1 week1 of C25K!!

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Holy fuck.

That was amazing and oww and amazing.

I gave myself an extra two minutes of walk time at the halfway point. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to complete the second half without it.

The second half was actually easier than the first, I think. You run 5 of 8 and then suddenly you only have three left and it flies. Craziest thing.

But I did it!!

And I did it in a neighborhood, with people passing and cars passing and a little girl (and her dad) who said hi and asked how I was while I was running and I still answered her back! I let them all be a witness to my greatness instead of feeling like they were all judging me.

Man. I am so fucking proud of myself for this run.

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The resolute urgency of now.

I am a woman who eats her first meal and then focuses her energy on other endeavors.

I am a woman who is fulfilled by productive action.

I am a woman who acknowledges that some moments are hard but also manageable.

I am a woman who finds the silver lining in every moment.

I am a woman who looks for joy in every second of life without exception.

I am a woman who knows that goodness comes around.

I am a woman who falls and gets back up.

I am a woman who revels in every opportunity for personal growth.

I am a woman who sometimes stomps her feet but always does the hard thing anyway.

I am a woman who shows up for herself and others.

I am a woman who calls random experiences adventures.

I am a woman who is overcome with elation that she exists.

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Strong as the oceans and I couldn’t explain why.

Every now and again I wish I didn’t have the memory I do. I wish I wasn’t so adept with numbers and dates. Wish old pictures weren’t so clear.

Today marks ten years since that ridiculous night. Ten years since a day I remember nothing about preceded a night that is still too sharp in my mind.

He pulled a knife on me.

And the whole thing still seems like a nightmare that couldn’t possibly have happened.

That fucking misguided, broken boy. I’d feel sorry for him had the whole thing not broken me so hard. Had he not reopened the wound so many times after for so many years.

I navigate that moment and the many moments after pretty well the rest of the year. But May always hurts a bit. Today always hurts a bit.

I know hope bloomed within all that darkness. I know growth eventually thrived. I know I turned terribly poisonous lemons into the most amazing lemonade I ever tasted. But even still. I mourn.

I don’t mourn the life I once had. Nor do I mourn the future I once pictured. I mourn the addition of yet another person’s betrayal. I mourn another part of me being bound and scarred. I grieve all of that manipulation. My heart hurts to think of all the security that was ripped out from under me.

I have created so much goodness out of the hell that night caused. But I wish I hadn’t needed to.

Tonight, I knew I needed to get out of the house and just walk. S came with me. It drizzled some of the walk. Rained some. We walked some. Ran some. It was cathartic as fuck.

10 years.

Still, one foot in front of the other.

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Pick up the flashpoint.

I felt so much clearer after I wrote on Thursday. It was almost alarming how quickly I felt clear again.

I called the tax guy and made an appt for the following day and by 1:30pm yesterday, our taxes were complete and filed and printed. And I have a copy now that I can submit for my student loan deferment at the end of the month.

Breathing.

I also had some calming thoughts regarding L and my stress paths. It doesn’t really matter how these things unfold. I can do my part and everything else is out of my hands. Sure, maybe there was things I was “supposed to” do sooner. Or maybe those things are right on time. Even if they keep me (or L) from something else. How can we know what is supposed to be? Maybe everything that is is supposed to be.

So, I’m breathing.

And I still haven’t talked to Chris about any of it yet. Because life upheaval and his dislocated shoulder. But I feel better about it without the conversation yet and that is the point.

I haven’t even leapt into the dislocated shoulder conversation here!

It is finally (presumably?) back in place. He has an ortho appt in a couple weeks. He hurts a lot. (Understatement of the year). He can’t take the anti-inflammatory til he finishes the steroid or else it causes severe nausea. But here he is with unfathomable inflammation causing an incredible amount of pain. Furthermore, the pain leads to lack of sleep and the lack of sleep leads to seizure activity. He’s his own walking nightmare right now.

I’m in my element with all of this and I know all of it is completely out of my hands and so all I see in this situation is the universe saying to Chris, “I’m not making myself clear here, son” and then shazam! Clear picture comes into focus. Make boundaries (especially to protect you from you). Delegate. Let people help you. Learn new ways to realize your usefulness. Let who you are define you, not what you can and can’t accomplish with one arm.

And, honestly, I just feel blessed to be along for the ride on this one. Chris is kicking ass and taking freaking names in the self-development department. Yeah, it totally sucks and there’s some kicking rocks, but mostly? Mostly he is stepping up and well surpassing all I’ve always known he is capable of.

He was thrust into this seemingly impossible situation, and knew he had to shift mindset or drown. And in the face of it being so. freaking. hard., he is freaking doing it anyway. And I think that is so freakin’ awesome. I couldn’t be prouder of him.

We both have had such fundamental progress during this quarantine. We are thrivers. I’m so in love with us and our relationship and all the goodness we are capable of.

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Like the ceiling can’t hold us.

Before I even make my coffee this morning, I want to share what my life affords me.

I woke up this morning to this.

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There are clean dishes in the drain board from 24 hours ago. There’s crap on the island. A day’s worth of dirty dishes in the sink. Nothing’s been disinfected.

The living room was scattered with papers and some haphazard books. Gym blocks in disarray. Bath toys littering the carpet. There’s a load of laundry to be folded and another yet to be washed.

You want to know what this represents to me?

A day well spent with my attention elsewhere.

My life–my amazing freaking life–my I practice and practice and practice life–my I get back up again life–affords me this moment. I could focus yesterday without micromanaging all of the home tasks. I could eat a meal without care if the dishes were washed. My routines (even taking a day off from them) afford me only an hour of catchup time today to get everything back to normal. My mindset work afforded me the ability to not even consider that someone else should wash the dishes yesterday. Never did I play the victim and think, “well, if no one can even give me the damn day, I guess I have to stop this important conference to wash a dish.” Never did I even think to entertain “I just want to watch the speakers, but L wants attention too and now I have to give up my dream!”

No! I am so much more than that.

I didn’t give a shit about the dishes. I didn’t think someone else should do them. I was grateful for the times Chris took L to play in the other room, but I was just. as. grateful. for all the moments L spent with me too! I incorporated him into my conference. I welcomed him. And he loved it! He felt loved.

My conference ended around 6:30. I was freaking glowing. Chris was on a call outside and L and I danced around the living room for the hundredth time, as my calves burned from the day.

I could have cleaned the house then. I even considered it. Wanna know what I did instead? I went outside and I played with my kid. Because even tho I spent a great part of the day with him, my attention was split. My life affords me that too. So we went outside and chased monsters and threw Spiderman webs and enjoyed the beautiful weather.

Later we went to the store. Still no clean kitchen. Later L went to bed. Still no clean kitchen. Even later than that Chris and I had amazing freaking sex. Still no clean kitchen.

And it was never a freaking thought in my head.

And so today, when I woke up and saw my home. It was the prize. It wasn’t the burden. It was the freaking prize. Because yesterday I lived in abundance. And I loved in abundance. And today my house, which is easily pickup-able, represents all of my progress. All of my glorious progress. And there is just nothing better than that.

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Out on your corner in the pouring rain.

Welcome to the third edition of The Basement Chronicles.

I haven’t worked on the basement in a few days, but I want to catch up on all my progress down there.

Also, as a sidenote. All of this work was accomplished while listening to Rise Together. What an inspiring and entertaining podcast.

Progress #4. (2.16)

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I cleaned off the play table and the dresser. I organized the 3×3 of toys, but currently it’s mostly papers/school supplies. I added a bookcase and unpacked a box of kid books.

Progress #5. (2.18)

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I don’t have a before shot of this. It had previously been boxes and boxes of dvds and random stuff and I don’t even remember what. But I cleared out the whole space and it was empty and amazing. I don’t have a shot of that either. Then I moved the clothes totes here from the front room and went through a couple boxes from the front. It seemed like a good place to temporarily store the luggage too.

Progress #6. (2.19)

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Holy smokes!

And an updated view of the front room.

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Chris was inspired by my work downstairs and he wanted to declutter and beautify his work area downstairs too! I don’t have a picture of that, but some of this trash is his and I’m so fucking proud of him.

This week I am committed to making space to work through some of my 12 week Kendra program stuff. Also, my sponsor gave me new homework and I’m going to devote time to that too.  I’ll write about both of these soon.

Off to sleep now!

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Tap on my window; knock on my door.

This hilarious thing happened. Where I was listening to the Rise Together podcast and Rachel and Dave were fucking geeking out about their enneagrams and I wanted in on it, despite having previously been vehemently (read: quietly) against taking the quiz. So I stopped the podcast and took a quiz. And apparently I had gone and decided some expectations beforehand because of all of my growth and accomplishments. I thought my results would give me further fuel to kick ass and take names amidst my personal growth journey.

And then I got a 2.

And I was like “what the shit is this?!”

Here I’ve been working on personal growth and growth mindset and so much me me me for a really long time and now I have this thing in front of me saying I do everything for everyone else and at my expense and to top it all off, I disrespect others’ boundaries.

I was not pleased.

To add insult to injury, I had been chatting with Chris about it beforehand and I felt like he had completely dismissed my everything about it. Which then triggered me to remember the random things he has dismissed in the past that mean something to me.

(Side story. The first time was back in 2014 when I went to a neuromusculoskeletal specialist (MD) who gave me an adjustment I was ill prepared for and I experienced my first…I’m not even sure what to call it. I had to navigate trauma that was released from my body. I sobbed. Like, sobbed. The doctor called me a delicate flower and he said it in such a sweet and loving way that he made me feel loved and worthy and strong in a way I had never felt before.

After I navigated this experience I felt so at peace and free and practically giddy and I relayed the whole thing to Chris on the drive home and he was so….mad. And he was so….oversteppingly protective. And then suddenly I felt invalidated and stupid.

This memory hurts. I know he never wants me to feel hurt. I know he wouldn’t want to be the thing doing the hurting. I also know that the reality is, we hurt people without realizing, especially when we ourselves are hurting.

I can view that part objectively. It doesn’t ease the hurt. Both things exist simultaneously.

I don’t purposefully hold onto this. I have never mentioned it to him, tho we did talk about it shortly after it happened. I don’t hold it over his head. It’s not usually any source of resentment or ill feelings. It’s not a chalkboard checklist of ways Chris has done wrong. It’s mostly just a feeling that resurfaces when I feel triggered by invalidation, if I feel unseen, or if there is something I’m interested in that is…not tangible.

The interesting thing to note here is that Chris has interest in things that he himself deems as hokey. It must hurt a lot to follow something, to take stock in it, to have it have meaning to him….and to also invalidate it as crap. I wish he could see that believing in something “other” or spiritually unexplainable doesn’t make him less than.

So it shouldn’t surprise me when he dismisses love languages and enneagram and whatever else could help give him insight into himself or me or our children or the relationships that intermingle all those things.

Also, I want to say, that I have never been anything less than wholly supportive and compassionate about anything he has ever had interest in, be it Jesus/god, when he was super religious, or cigars or pipe tobacco or vaping, for that stint, or when he was blending tobacco or making snuff (ground tobacco) or blending juices and making his own mods. I was present and stood next to him for all of it. Even when he drank. Twice. I show up every time. He could never say I don’t show up. I am there and I support every endeavor and every mistake and every rabbit hole. I listen through every news blip and political rant and all the Joe Rogan and UCF fights and Sargon of Akkad.

And some days I have real, tangible pain that I don’t feel the same in return. Not all the time. Not every day. But enough.

And I know I should say something. And I would. If I had any idea how to. Without it sounding needy or ungrateful or petty.)

So, back to today. I was trying to talk out my feelings about maybe being a 2 (77%). Or perhaps even being a 5 (74%) and he went the route of talking about coding those kinds of quizzes and how stuff like that is easy, and I…I closed off and shut down.

And there was no good way to say “but I want to talk about me”. And…it was such a 2 thing to do and to think.

And even tho it happened 10 hours ago, I’m laugh-crying about the irony and sadness and amusement of it all. I’m certain that any person who was well versed in 2s would say “oh, sweetheart” and envelop me in their arms and I could cry about how much being alive hurts and how much pressure there is and how I never feel seen and usually I’m okay with that, but today it just hurts, and they would get it.

But I don’t know any enneagram people because I don’t feel like I have any connections with people and it is a chasm that deeply aches.

So I’ll cry my good cry and I’ll “through; not around” and I’ll keep chugging along anyway. ‘Cause while I may be a 2, I’m also a fierce fucking fighter and I refuse to ever feel stuck.

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We must let go to know what’s right.

The Basement Chronicles.

So, we left off at progress on February 6th. Some time ticked on by after this. A woman name Angel posted in a group that she needed accountability for a three day decluttering party and I love that shit, so I was giddy to volunteer. Luckily she was down for texting and I could bypass fb messenger. Decluttering while I knew she was decluttering was really motivated and I got a lot accomplished.

Progress #2. (2.12)

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The following day Angel and I texted back and forth and I was telling her I want an empty basement. Not entirely empty. I want the storage shelves to contain storage. And then I want the rest empty, apart from a play area/book nook. She asked me about intent and why I wanted my basement empty. I gave her the spiel about growing up in chaos and hoarder family members and she wisely pointed out that the “nots” of wanting something wasn’t the way to bring about intent. So I came up with:

I want to walk downstairs and have an open space that feels peaceful and relaxing. I want a space that allows me to breathe life into it. Instead of a space that breathes chaos into me.

And then I did progress #3. (2.13)

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My current process is that I’m decluttering the basement in waves. This will not be my only pass through. I’m working my way around to get to everything on the surface. Separate trash from donation from “go through”. Then complete the trash runs and donation drop offs. Then I will start tackling the deeper things.

More progress to come soon!