Runner Girl

I'm starting to embrace some titles in my life: professional, student and my new favorite, elite athlete. That was said by the pulmonary doctor when he released me back to the wild.  He referred to me twice as an elite athlete and I just smiled and agreed.

It was nice to get back in the swing of things, to get out and start running again with Monica.  It's funny how quickly you can "lose it" and how hard it seems.  Our first night out we did 2.4 miles and for the first time I was sore after running. Not bad sore but wow, I haven't used these muscles for a while sore. The second night we went we did 2.8 miles. And tonight we had a first. I left a going away party early to run. Monica wasn't feeling well but I kept a date I made with myself.

So when I got home the temptation not to run was great, it was hot and humid out. I'd had a rough day and am exhausted and Monica isn't running.  I was telling myself all of this while I was re-downloading the 10k runner and changing my clothes.  While I was putting my hair in a braid I was telling myself stories about how I should go grab dinner downstairs and not worry about eating the healthy foods I'd prepared on Sunday.  Finally while I was walking out the door and putting my ear buds in I was telling myself that I could do it and that I'm an elite athlete and elite athletes need to go run in the heat.  So I did that instead.

There are times I'm afraid of this journey I'm on. This is all uncharted territory for me.  My family isn't athletic we are, to quote Jim Gaffigan, "indoorsy."  I've never had a burning desire to compete but somehow that fire is lit inside me.  I want to see how far I can go and how fast. At the turn around point in my run I took a mental note of where I turned because next time farther and faster.

Farther
Faster

Robin Williams and Depression

I can't ever say I know what he went through, I can't ever imagine the dark corners in his mind and heart, I can say that I understand sometimes, in the dark of night how suicide seems like the only logical answer, the only way out of the pain.  There is no tomorrow, no hope, no sun only pain.  This isn't the blues, this isn't a bad day, this is a debilitating devastating illness that makes even getting out of bed too much to bear. The balance in your checking account doesn't matter, having someone to love you doesn't matter, nothing matters but the pain. 

I've seen, thank god, nothing but sadness and shock over Robin Williams passing, and I'm there with the millions who mourn this amazing artist.  But what about the 7th grader who is bullied until he sees no other way out? Or the chubby 10th grade girl who is called names over and over until she finds a final escape?  What about the thirty something man who cannot battle his demons anymore?  

I was lucky when I found myself down at the bottom of that hole. As dark as it got, as hurt as I was, as tired of being alive as I was I couldn't do that to my friends and family.  Sometimes, at 2am that's all you have to hold on to.  Until you can find the strength to completely expose your weakness and beg for help. I was lucky, I had people around me who heard me, who were there to help me back to the light.

If you are in pain, if you feel alone, if you are trapped in that hole you are not alone. There are wonderful professionals who are waiting to lean in with a light and help you find sunshine again.  Tell the people you love, be strong enough to ask for help. 

Some resources to consider.

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

http://www.afsp.org/

http://www.thetrevorproject.org/pages/suicide-prevention-resources

PE and DVT

So it's been exactly 3 weeks since my adventures in the hospital. I refused and still do to do more than dip a toe into how serious this was, even an overnight stay in the hospital isn't something I'm willing to dwell on too much.  The nurse at the pulmonoligst's office felt the need to stress to me how often people die from a pulmonary embolism. I have gotten a glimpse of the future, of the woman I'm terrified to be. The woman at the grocery store in the gopher, the woman looking years older than she is, the one who cannot even walk from her car to the store.  This was a gift to me and I can't look at it as anything other than that.

I've learned about me too, that I can ask for help, that I can accept help even when it makes me crazy not to do for myself.  I can embrace the people in my life who hover and worry even though I refuse to acknowledge it.

My path to a healthy, vibrant, happy, strong 90 year old woman starts now, started last year when I trained for the 1/2 marathon, started 5 years ago when I got mixed up with Dr Jen Huberty and www.befitminded.com.  But working out is only one part of my path to 90.

Another part? I am going after Masters Degree #2 this fall at Creighton.  My Grama Gerry always said, of education, "They can't take it away from you." I'm not sure who "they" are, but I always took that very much to heart, education and learning is so important.  I intend, for the rest of my life, to stay curious and to go down those rabbit holes of learning for learnings sake.

Finally I'm going to get back into meditation.  There is no greater gift than this moment we have now.  No greater promise to the future than to breathe the current moment in and out with deliberation.  There is healing in silence, there is healing in breath, there is healing in each of us.

I'm working on my Plan for the future, I can see exactly what I want and although the path may change and shift as time goes on, I know who I want to see when I get there.  My clear brown eyes, smiling face, huge laugh and dancing my way through the days and nights.  What are you doing?

Oh, and in my head, the clot in my lung is a star, guiding me forward and lighting the path ahead, and I still refuse to think about how serious it was.

Repress and Deny

So, one way that I deal with stress is to repress and deny.  This week was no different, I had a sore calf, immediately assigned it as a pulled muscle (although I had no injury), and ignored it. By Wednesday I was swelling in addition to my sore calf, and ignoring my internal instinct that it may be more serious I continued to do my normal daily routine.  Finally my dear friends at work convinced me to go to the doctor, and to my dismay, my diagnosis was deep vein thrombosis. Well, the clot broke off and then caused a Pulmonary Embolism as well. Oh the joy!

So overnight in the hospital I learned a few great things.  In talking to the pulmonary doctor I was able to correct his assumption that I was sedentary. Well, two of my besties, Darcy and Deanna, very quickly corrected him when he suggested that I exercise more.  Darcy pointed out that I am training for RAGBRAI (a bike ride across Iowa totaling 425 miles) and Deanna told him that I ran the Lincoln ½ marathon.  He looked a little surprised and then said, “ok so you are fit and an athlete”. I smiled and said, “yes, yes I am”. Actually what I said in my head was, “don’t let the body fool you I really am an athlete”.

So the doctor prescribed slowing down, five minute walks at a time.  I thought that the doctor was exaggerating but last night I walked up a one block hill that I’ve walked up a hundred times and had to stop and rest at the top. Ok, so the doctor is right, I need to slow down.

The other great thing I learned while over night in the hospital is how far I’ve come in my fitness journey.  I know some of you who follow me on Facebook have heard about my involvement in FitMinded (www.befitminded.com).  Dr. Jennifer Huberty started this program years ago at UNO and I was lucky enough to be in one the sessions led by her.  FitMinded is a program for women, it’s a book club about fitness. Not weight, not food but how women can create the time and urgency to be fit. I’m blessed at this point to be facilitating a Fit Minded session and will be doing another one this fall (get ready to sign up!).  FitMinded gave me the confidence to realize that no matter what I’m doing, moving my body is better for me than sitting on the couch (unless I’m writing my blog post).  FitMinded got me active again. Facilitating FitMinded is what got me to do the Lincoln ½ marathon and commit to RAGBRAI.

So the tie between two blood clots, RAGBRAI and FitMinded was very clear to me in the hospital.  I realized that my main concern when released from the hospital was when I could start riding and running again. How long am I going to be confined to the life I used to lead on my couch?  As you get no sleep in a hospital I had lots of time to think about this and I could clearly see how far I’ve come.  My body may have not changed much but I am strong, strong in my body, strong in my mind. Watching the Echocardiogram and seeing my heart beat strong and regularly I know that being active allowed me to have this strength.  What I learned from FitMinded is that I am strong, I am capable and that this minor little setback will not send me back to the old Michelle, (we broke up, remember?) but I will listen and follow the doctors orders exactly and continue to take care of my health by eventually getting my heart pounding again!

Shoulding all over yourself

I should remove the word should from my vocabulary.  I really should. No good comes from the word should.

There are implications within the word, that somehow what I've chosen or what I'm doing is incorrect, for example instead of enjoying this birthday cake I should have just walked by.  Or instead of enjoying skyping with a friend I should be writing a blog post.  I should have brought my laptop home instead of riding my bike and enjoying the CWS.  I automatically dread whatever it is that I should do and it adds guilt to what it is that I shouldn't be doing or at the very least the thing I am doing loses  some of its shine.

Technically the word should means (from shall) to plan to.  I don't mind having plans, anyone who knows me knows that it's Plan though, not plan.  I learned that from my Granfur, that was his phrasing in looking at anything interesting, "What's the Plan?" I like that better.  A Plan implies choices and deciding on a course of action instead of constantly worrying about a different decision.

So how to reframe things.  I choose, tonight, to ride my bike.  Here comes another should-I should have gone further than 10 miles.  I swear this voice is killing me.  Back to reframing.  I choose a short ride on my bike knowing that there is no food in my house (no shock) and I will need to cook dinner. I could have chosen a longer ride, but I do not like to eat late so I need to be home by 7.  So even in the midst of trying to reframe not bringing my laptop home I hit myself with another should.  Very sneaky!

I've heard awareness is the key to change.  I'm trying to be very aware of shoulding on myself and instead, take a breath, reframe what I'm doing into the Plan and look forward.

How about you? Do you should on yourself? How can we better embrace where we are?

The Lincoln Miracle

As most of you know, on May 4 I crossed an item from the bucket list, I "ran" the Lincoln 1/2 marathon.  13.1 miles in 3:50 beating my goal of just finishing before the course closes.  I learned so many things from this experience, first off, I still do not like running.

I went to see Jillian Michaels when she was in Omaha a few months ago and she said something that shocked me, she said "I hate working out." This from a professional trainer and fitness guru who makes her money on her body and working out.  The profound statement, "I hate working out" somehow gives me permission to say I do not like running.  That being said, I've been told by my two closest friends I'm not allowed to say I'm not a runner.  I protested saying "a runner will just go knock out 6 miles on a Tuesday." Jen was so fast to retort with what did you just do last Tuesday, I reluctantly admitted it was 6 miles.  So I'm a runner.  I don't love it but I am.

I also learned that asking for help and accepting unasked help will make all the difference.  Asked help looked like this, taking on "the hill" at mile 9 with blisters seemed daunting until a little boy, maybe 9, took my hand and ran up the hill with me.  I nearly cried and have thought about him so many times since then.  He will never know what that did for me, for my spirit.  So please, offer a hand when you can, and no one does that better than my friend Darcy.  Darcy drove to Lincoln and was there at every turn on her bike offering a drink, a banana or a dance.  At mile 12 when I was ready to quit she was there in sneakers to keep me company the last mile.  She offered a hand when I didn't know I needed one.

Finally I learned by doing the Lincoln 1/2 is that I am stubborn (not shocking except to me) and sometimes stubbornness is enough to get to the finish line-and run to it no less.  I have never in my life been so tired but quitting wasn't an option.  One foot, then the other just to keep momentum going, one step then another will finish the race. You don't have to be perfect, you don't have to compare yourself to anyone else.  Finish your race.  And I beat that girl, the one I broke up with?  She would have quit at mile 3, maybe 5 but quitting came easy to her.

I know this is my last 1/2 marathon, but as a runner I will keep doing races.  So far I have a 5k in June, August and September with maybe a 10k in October.  We all have to do things we don't like, this is what will keep me spunky well into my 80's.

What about you? Have you done the impossible? Do you have your miracle? If not, go find one, I highly recommend it.

Breaking Up

I don't know how you handle breakups, but it's never pretty for me.  Sleepless nights, snot bubbles, either eating everything in sight or not eating and poetry.  Breaking up is tough. You've poured your heart and soul into someone and then either you realize it or they do-it won't work.  There's an awkward conversation, maybe rage, maybe tears and it's just done. You are left empty.

We always think that it's hard to be dumped, that it's more earth shattering to be the one who is left but being the person who has to say "I'm leaving" is also gut wrenching. I've been on both sides, and it almost seems easier to have your heart broken than to break someone else's.

I've been toying with a breakup for a few months now. And it's time to go public.  When I was running on my cruise in February, I kept thinking it's time to end it.  Running those slow laps around the top deck of the pool, surrounded completely by crystal blue water and I nearly dropped to my knees, I was done.

I haven't talked to anyone about this, breakups can be very personal especially when you are breaking up with yourself.  I decided in that moment that the old Shel had to go.  The Shel who was full of excuses, who comforted herself only with food, and the girl who was content to be the "funny" one. I was tired of her, tired of carrying her around with me.

So here it is, two months later and I'm ready to say it.  The Old Shel, she's done.  I'm sure that there are times when I'll want to go running back to the safety of what I've always known.  But like any truly doomed relationship, the rebound will be fast and soon enough she will be gone.

It's important to be gentle when breaking up, when standing up alone and saying I want more.  But she got custody of all of my former coping skills.  She is taking the food, the self pity, the laying around and weeping and most importantly she is taking the past.  I have custody of the running shoes, the bicycle and helmet and some really great fitting work out clothes.  I have custody of the future, and from where I sit, the clouds are parting and the sun is shining.

If you see her, be gentle, it's a whole new world.

"I am not a runner"

While we were "running the dots" yesterday morning my coach announced that she is not a runner.  Mind you this is the person who introduced me to running like this, run 1/10th, walk 1/10th or running the dots to prepare for the Lincoln 1/2 marathon in May.  She casually said it, like it wasn't even a thought, like I'd say I'm not purple.

Let me be crystal clear, I consider Monica my running expert, my coach.  She ran the Lincoln 1/2 last year.  She runs 5k's with her husband and daughter.  She's running the Lincoln 1/2 with me this year. She works out in the gym with a trainer specifically for her running.  But she doesn't see it, what I see in her long strides, in her confident gait or just in her sunny attitude about running.  That she is a runner.

So I pressed it with her, like I do.  What does she love about running.  She was quick to answer.  I love that at family things I'm out leading the charge. I love that I don't wear out.  I love that when I went to New York City last year I didn't get tired, I didn't have to pop ibuprofen every four hours.  I love that my daughter sees what I'm doing as normal.  I love the energy.

So, still pressing her, why aren't you a runner? This almost stopped her in her tracks.  Finally she answered, because I don't look like a runner.

Ok why does that matter?  We talked a lot in our 6 miles.  We talked about body image and what it's like to run and not be a gazelle, to weigh more than 140 lbs, to have more than 11% body fat.  We talked about what it is like when too much moves or what it's like when your stomach sticks out further than your breasts, we talked about bulges and dimples.  We talked about what it's like to run and try and leave that all behind.

I loved how honest we were with each other.  There's something about the early morning on the trails in the sun where we could let some of the "shoulds" go and just move. I wish for more days like this for everyone of you, more honesty, more moving and more letting go of the things we allow to diminish us.

Hate at 35 MPH

Spring is springing in Omaha, today was 70 and after a quick morning workout and lunch I thought I'd take my ponytail swing outside and see what it's like to run outside instead of that hated treadmill. It's wickedly windy but a beautiful day. The sun is shining, I have my favorite running jacket on, my new kicks and P!nk blaring in one ear (safety first) of course.

I round the back of the lake at Heartland of America at my slow pace and head towards the former Rick's Boatyard.  I've finished my 10 minute guided run and 5 minute walk and I slowly start to run again, crossing the street and finding a sidewalk to head back to the city when I hear it, the Camaro slows and I hear "Fat Ass" and "Breaking concrete" before he guns the gas and passes me, turning left on 9th street.  And there it is again.  I've heard it before shouted from car windows.  

The first time was when I was 15 and walking home from work, then I was also a "Fat Ass."  I went home, cried myself to sleep with whatever snack foods I had in front of me.  In college, my boyfriend and I were just taking a walk on campus and we heard "Lose some weight" shouted from a window again the car sped away.  And now today.  I'm sad now and probably will be for a few days.  Honestly angry too-wondering how small their penises are and what would drive someone to do that to a stranger.  

So I thought about small penis Camaro driver the whole way back, and I ran much farther than I had planned to, my own version of the finger I suppose.  I hate how it makes me feel, like I am less than by being too much.  Once again I feel like I should apologize for my existence.  But it feels different this time, feels like I'm not the one to apologize.   It occurred to me that Camaro was out driving, and I was out, pony tail swinging and moving.  I was investing in being 80 by taking care of me and making myself feel better without hurting anyone else, and without hurting me in the process.  

So what good can come from this?  I will challenge each of you, when you see anyone out trudging along by the side of the road or on a treadmill at the gym or anywhere working on moving, send them love.  For me, send them good will and good wishes that they keep on moving.  You never know, it could be me you are wishing well. 

Vacation Workout

I had a lot of time to think on vacation, traveling with my best friend Mike is a comfort. We've known each other for 20 years now and know how to be together.  We are both single so both know the value of alone time in the midst of being together.  I mention this to say that he didn't even bat an eye at my need to go running on the ship, I don't know that he woke up completely.  

Trudging around the track it nearly stopped me in my tracks, not only did I take running shoes on vacation but I was using them.  I was running in the middle of the ocean because I wanted to and for no other reason.  I took the time that morning and just relaxed into it.  I didn't critique my style, I didn't get (too) jealous of the gazelle who kept bounding past me with her blonde pony tail bouncing or the sprinter who lapped me more than the laps I actually ran, I kept my eyes open and I just ran my run.

There is something strange and empowering about coming home from vacation having lost 5 lbs and not wracked with guilt over poor choices.  I enjoyed every minute and every bite and every step on the trip but I know it's just starting.

Fear of Running

As somewhere north of a petite flower and closer to a strong German girl, I have a fear of running.  It's all the huffing and puffing, the boredom of are we done yet and finally all the stuff that moves enthusiastically when I'd prefer it doesn't.  It's the constant monologue in my head that I'm not doing it right, that I'm running too slow, that there must be a better way.  Then my thoughts turn to the other people in the room who I'm sure are judging me for my lack of running style.  I'm sure that the dude in the back of the weight room lifting and grunting is watching me and horrified at my lumbering "run." Or the twenty something girl on the elliptical talking on the phone without breaking a sweat who I'm sure is using me as a cautionary tale against cake.

But then something magic happens, I look past the city lights in the darkness and I can see my reflection in the window.  First I notice and admire the way my pony tail swings back and forth in time brushing my neck.  My slow run is steady and even.  I pause in my constant criticism and admire the fact that I'm moving, I am moving. I watch as my shoulders ease down from my ears and relax.  I am running my race and if I can get out of my head I may just win or at least medal.

Investing in my 80's

I decided to run a 1/2 marathon this year.  Talking to my book club buddies I realized that what I'm doing is investing in my 80's.  Every step I slowly jog today is an investment in being one of those sassy old ladies who still tool around the mall in their jogging suits.

It's not easy, it's only day 2.  I have apps on my phone to help and am trying to keep it interesting to me.  The ap I used today was 10k runner.  This times out the run, and like so many others gives queues to run and when to walk.  Now the walking wasn't bad, that I like.  It's the running I don't like.  Too much moves, too much shakes and it takes too long for it to stop when I finish running.

But that's just today, metaphorically.  Tomorrow is actually a yoga day so no jiggling, but in the greater picture the next time I run, I know I can do a minute of anything, I will have less of me to move and never again will I run on January 14, 2014.  Today is gone, no sense in dwelling on what I may have done better.

Mantra for tomorrow, invest in being 80.  Get Moving!!!