184 days -6

Sometimes I work nights. I know they screw up my system but I haven't got alot of choice right now. I want hours, and that is the form they are coming to me at one of my two jobs. They are awake night-shifts, with check in calls, monitoring a crisis call line at a women's safe house. The truth is that I nod off every time between calls, but it isn't the kind of sleep that is worthwhile. I spaz awake every time the alarm company calls to check in. I have chores that have to get done between 11-1 at night, or 5-7 in the morning. I put on my sunglasses as I drive home, rain or shine, and crawl into bed It fu ks me every time.
Yesterday I ended up sleeping until 3. I got up and tried to motivate for the gym, the grocery run that needed doing. Could not fathom how to manage being seen in public. It isn't that I imagine that I look like an ogre, it's just that some days I cannot bear to be looked at. The judgements are constant, inescapable and I can feel them raining down on me some days. I cannot stand the eyes on me.
So, instead I ate bitefuls of what was leftover in the fridge. Olives. Some not yet formed date energy ball mix. Half of a leftover ice cream bar in the freezer. A boiled egg. And then went back to bed. Woke up starving at ten and went for massive calorie takeout. Did not get to the gym. Felt frozen in place when I tried to imagine a walk around the neighborhood. Got bummed out about my life. Went back to sleep and somehow slept all night and through my alarm this morning. Amazing.

It's been so long since I've written in this blog so I read back a ways. Following my inspired training run up to not run/running two half marathons, there are a year's worth of posts that grossed me out with how weight obsessed I became. It was a way to mask the injury, stress, and betrayal I was facing at the time, I know that now in hindsight. I don't want to go there again. I feel like I've grown by miles. I have come to face myself, gaining integrity and self-respect through a painful passage I would have never wished for. 

Image by Tara Sellios

50 by 40

It's been a long time away. Four years? Five? It's been bad.

I've been a long way away from myself, and from my health. Life took such a disastrous turn and it shook me to the core. I have decided to act as if, to pick my trembling spirit up and live. A choice. One I am still able to make, and so I will.

I will be 40 next year. I have always been fit, and tried to care for my body. I have healed body and mind in the past, and I intend to do it once more. Resilience is a real thing. Love can hurt, and love can heal. This time around, I am using this most powerful weapon against myself. Some injury happened along the way. A personal abuse story; one among millions. It won match after match, degrading my mental health. It moved into my spirit and crippled it. It filtered into my hormonal and nervous system. It wrought havoc from within my emotional body. My mind turned against me and my stress level rose and remained at a dangerous high for years. My body has felt beyond my control, and no amount of exercise could reverse the damage that was happening.

I have taken the control back. I am practicing being with myself alone now. I removed myself from a relationship that became toxic with dishonesty and passive aggression. I will no longer be anyone's whipping post, trying to give love to someone who refuses to receive it. 
But I have to move slowly. I keep overdoing it, not really understanding just how far out of whack my body has gone. I've jumped back into my activities several times, and hurt my weakened body. I hope that I have learned patience, forgiveness, and to be gentle with myself by now.
No more negative self talk. No more should-ing on my body. No more straining to hurry up and see results. This is a lifestyle move. For my mental well being. 

I began today with just thirty minutes of walking on a treadmill. It actually hurt. 
I can't really bear to be seen today. I have a lot of these days lately. So I can't really take myself out to walk in the streets, even though the weather is fine as can be. I hid myself in a corner at the rec centre gym, wedged between windows, watching mountains, not looking at anyone, and pretending no one could see me.
I had a decent soundtrack. Some Eliot Goldenthal for the first five minutes. Some Young Men Dead, for the next five, then some Children- serious Advanced Mind Control- which finally made me get a stoke on as I watched the clouds change over the mountains ahead of me. Got stabbing pain in first my right knee, then that went away and became a cramping in my left shin, a feeling like I was pushing too hard, so I slowed it back down. Then it moved to my left knee. I worked really hard to manage my mean thoughts as that voice in there started cussing out my weakness again. 
It's been a long hard road, and I've ridden so much of it out hiding in bed. I have to let go of the idea that I should be in some kind of physical bracket just because I once was. 
It's done now. I did it. It feels good, too. Day one of however many. We'll see. 

I want a love I can feel. And I'm going to start right here with my self. 

I've learned integrity of spirit and self respect over these past difficult few years, so I'm not starting from scratch at least. But it doesn't mean this is easy.

Still going! Last month saw me cover 71km's. So far this month I am at 55km's, hoping to beat last month and keep going from there. man, it hurts, but I am seeing things start to change for the good! And feeling it, too. Muy power when I skate, deep, deep breaths, good sleeps, and a craving for salads not cheesecakes! huh?

Here is a picture from my run over Granville Bridge when I went to the city on the weekend.

Trying again...

...so far it hurts.
Since I started back on Jan 21st, I've covered 46k. Wait. That puts it into some perspective, doesn't it? That's in just 16 days. Well, I feel better about taking a few days off this week. Guess I don't have to give it up yet. Was feeling like I was failing for a minute there. What I mean is I'm doing it again.

Not just fucking trying.

urg

I'm trying. I took two runs in two days.
One down the tracks, my favorite route, to Staples, for more paper for my printer to print out my notes to study with. Then last, night, at the last moment, after feeling defeated by my day and laying around for three hours trying to read textbooks, putting off going to yoga until it was too late, and eating half a pizza to spite myself. After I had given up, I crawled out of bed, put on my long pants, gloves, toque and headphones, and went out and ran as far as I could until my knee started to complain. My decision to walk to work got sidetracked by needing to get a doctors note that says I am allowed to skate again while at work. But I left my wheels there and walked home, which means I am forced to walk back there in the morning if I don't walk up the hill to school. So its happening, somehow, its happening, and MAN does it HURT!

Ask...

Funny how Life answers sometimes.
I've been swimming 3 times a week the past 2 weeks. Its helped my achilles immensely. I've been stressing out over this 30 pounds that snuck up on me due to the amount of sitting time school and studying entails. But for the past three months I've been watching what I eat, keeping tabs, typing in everything I put into my mouth, feeling deprived, but only by my own hand; not eating 1 chocolate bar every two days or sundaes and burgers on the weekend, one cup of morning coffee instead of two. But that has not helped at all, either way, it's only stressed me out. My weight has stayed exactly where it has been since last winter. I actually lost more weight not paying attention and eating what my body craved, when my body craved it, than I have while I've been meticulously logging each morsel. So fuck this. Once again, activity is the only answer for me.

So I've been meaning to get off my ass. Quit driving to school, walk more. Ride my bike around town. But its so damn cold, and wet, and early, and my stupid achilles hurts all the time, etc, etc...
...aaand my truck broke today. Last month I spent a thousand dollars to make sure it would keep running beautifully through the winter, as it always has. And today it would not stay running for further than one block at a time. I had to leave it in the lot and walk home from school. Take a deep breath and get stepping. Down the long hill, the daunting hill, across the flat estuary, and over the bridge. Up the little hill through the quaint little decked out for Christmas main street town. It took 45 minutes. My ankle hurts as much as it always does, no more or less. So, okay, Life, I fuckin hear ya. Truck is parked. Im a'walking it out.

certainly not

NO, I am not running.
I am barely walking. A tour of LA art museums and skateparks left me nearly crippled, what a bitch.
But I am rehabbing this shit. Do I like being here? because I keep coming back to injure myself... Guess riding on a kneebrace, halfway through knee healing is asking for trouble. Half assed physio/healing seems to create more need for healing...er.
I've been riding a bike all summer for my knee. Still riding, but not as religiously as before. Its not a daily motion, but it ought to be. Today Im heading back to yoga to see what it can do for this. Hopefully me feet don't go entirely numb, as my toes were already disappearing after the first three postures before this injury. Not feeling where your toes are makes balance very difficult!
Doing it anyway. I like walking. Really really like walking...