Running In Place

First of all, Yay for running with friends!! I have occasionally met up with people for races, and maybe twice for casual runs, but the bulk of my past running was always done alone – which I really didn’t mind and actually felt I preferred. This time around, I have been training with my good friend Denise, who is beginning running for the first time as I (re)begin running for the…….oh I’ve lost count of which time it is, but anyway, we are moving through the initial parts of this process together. When we started doing a few days a week on the treadmills at the gym we had kind of unofficially said we should plan for the Heart Run 3 miler but as the weeks went by, our training was spotty due to late evenings at work, illness, and the juggling of my commute, so a couple of weeks ago when Denise said “we’ve got to be ready for that run” I was thinking “damn, I was hoping she forgot about it!” But back to the treadmills we went.

I’ve done the Heart Run before and it’s alot of fun. It’s not timed, not a certified distance, just a chance for people to raise money for the cause and and walk or run anywhere from 3 mile to 30K distances. It consitently raises over a million $$ and had nearly 10,000 participants this year – the community and volunteer support is amazing! So all that is to say that it was a great run for Denise to start out with. We got dropped off at the starting area and waited while the 5 mile runners dashed through (with Denise’s daughter, Melissa, slowing her pace long enough to give mom a hug), then we watched 12 school busses full of other 3 mile runners shuttle in from the finish line. One Star Spangled Banner and starting gun later, we were off and Denise was totally psyched by the energy of it all. She had been doing run/walk intervals at the gym so I said that when ever she felt like she should walk was fine with me but she kept right on pushing through, even though inhaling the cold air had initially made it difficult for her to breath well. In the first mile, as we warmed up, we took several brief (30 – 40 second) walk breaks and Denise told me I could go on ahead. Honestly, part of me certainly wanted to pick it up a little, to push a little harder – but the greater part of me was really enjoying sharing this experience with my friend. It was her first group run, her first time off the treadmill, her first time running up hills, and I wanted to encourage her and to share her satisfaction when it was all done. So Denise set the pace and we waved to spectators and thanked volunteers and grooved a little to the bands and radio stations we passed. We made it up the big hill and rounded the bend to the finish, to be greeted by the, literally, thousands of walkers who were awaiting the start of their event. Denise was tired, and she was pushing hard to get to the end – as we headed towards the finish, we saw her daughter Melissa on the sidelines and she joined us to run mom in. With me on one side and Melissa on the other, Denise poured it on for the last several yards and crossed the line strong, with a big smile and high-fives as her name and donation amount was announced. After grabbing snacks, we met up with Denise’s husband and rode the shuttle back to the car while he rolled his eyes as we chattered about summertime races, the Boilermaker and even a fall 1/2 marathon. I was so happy for Denise’s accomplishment and happy for myself – to be running again, and to have such a good bud to do it with. I think it’s going to be a good year.

Let’s talk about running. That’s what this blog was for, at first – a record of my stumbling path to being a runner. Which I was, once. And plan to be again. Personal shit may incidentally make an appearance in new stories of the run, but the personal shit will no longer be the story itself. How does that sound? Good?? Good!!

Today, I ran outside for the first time since early April ‘07. It was 23F with a little bit of biting wind and I was kind of bumming. I’ve been running on the treadmill at the gym for maybe a month now with my friend Denise – doing running/walking intervals – and it’s been good to get moving again, but the treadmill is kind of a drag. And you forget, even when you put it on an incline, how much the belt moves you along. So suffice to say that today’s run exacted a little more effort than I had previously been putting forth. I was happy to plod out 1.5 miles without walk breaks and felt warm and energized as I did some additional walking after. It’s humbling to start over (I know well, as I seem to keep doing it) but I’m working hard not to kick myself for not running as fast or as far as I did way back whenever – I had to start at the beginning then too.

I’ve also got a cool 20 divorce-pounds packed on over the past year so although I was *dying* for a fried egg & cheese sandwich this morning, I ran, stretched and finished it all up with a bowl of Kashi & strawberries with soy milk. I can’t say I’m not still thinking about that egg sandwich but it’s easier to continue doing good things for yourself once you start. Well, so far.

Jeez. What month is it? When was April??? Oh, a long time ago now. But do I really have anything new to say in any case?? Maybe.

First of all – it’s still hard. The end of a marriage is so. freaking. hard. It’s incredibly frustrating, how the grief can grab you at unexpected times and just stymie every thing you’ve been working on, working towards. Sometimes I’m grooving – I’ve got a job in a place I really like, and exactly the position I wanted – for more $$ than at the old place, in the old life – I’ve got a new vehicle, I’m living in a sweet-awesome downtown apartment, I’m starting to make friends, I’m with a guy that I truly am nuts over. But sometimes. The despair is suffocating. I think it’s all especially poignant because the kid is leaving for college in a couple of weeks – out of state. In truth, I’m really excited for him and I think he’ll be just fine – he’s a really smart kid (yeah, I know every mom says that about her kid but in my case it’s really true! And, although I’ve dealt with him living 2 hours away for the past several months, 6 hours away is WAY too far and somehow it seems like I will miss him more than ever. Let’s listen in to the last conversation we had about heading off to school:

Me: So. Have you found out what you need to bring to school?
Kid: Well, I’ll find out when I get there and just buy it.
Me: Well, I mean like, does your dorm room have a desk or do you need to bring yours.
Kid: Um, I don’t think I’m going to fit my desk in my car.
Me: Well what about Daddy’s truck?
Kid: Um, I kind of thought I would just pack up my car with what I could fit and go.
Me: WELL, in every TV show *I* ever saw, the parents take the kid to college and see his dorm and meet his roommate and help him unpack and go out to dinner and maybe then say goodbye at the very last possible minute.
Kid: Yeah. That’s not how I envision it.

sniffle

But, really, if I was him – that’s exactly how I’d do it. So I’ve got respect for that and, in a couple of weeks, he will ride off into his own next big adventure, and I hope it’s grand.

In any case, I think I really am surfacing – which may imply that I had gone under, which is not entirely the case. It’s just that it’s a process – it really is a grieving process and, being a hospice nurse, I have a pretty good sense of how that can unfold – but the knowledge I apply to my patients and their families, of course, is not what I immediately recognize in myself. Although I’m sure it’s obvious to any other casual observer. And let me pause to say this: I am not comparing the break-up of a relationship to the loss of a spouse through death – when I talk about grief, I talk about that process we go through any time we have a significant loss – from a job to a marriage to a death. I may be less sad or more sad than any other person for any reason, I’m just talking about the path that takes you from feeling irreparably broken to mended. And all of that is to say that, though there are days when I am more back than forward, I am on the track I want to be on. I love my work, my home, my man, and my cute, new(ish) little CR-V. So I say to myself – Snap the freak out of it girl!!

The important part of this is that I really didn’t reappear here to pour out all my messy feelings (though, if you spend any time with me, you’ll discover that I’ve become prone to it – yeah, I’m pretty awesome to hang around with) – the thing is that I am moving again – my body that is (not a new apartment, sweet baby jesus not any time soon!!). See I came to this hospice and they have this AMAZING fundraiser – a 1.2 mile swim across Cayuga Lake and I volunteered at it this year, but when one of my co-workers (who’s 62 BTW) came up to me and said ‘do you want to train to swim it next year?’ I was already there! So, I’ve been swimming – at the Y – and though you may remember my not so great luck with the Y in my previous location – this Y has dedicated lap time at 6 AM. So Carol and I meet, and she totally laps me like 1000 times, but I’m swimming – I’m putting one foot in front of the other, as it were. Which is more than I have previously been able to say. When I wake up at 5:15 am it sucks, when I put myself in the pool it sucks, when I take that first lap or two – before I remember that I know a tiny bit (literally) about form it sucks. Then I find a grove, and I think ‘oh, this is kind of good – I’m ok here.’ And then, after shower and primping, I drive to work and feel ready to take on the world. So it’s good. Very good.

Life goes on, per Hedwig. And I believe her. I’m pulling the wig down from the shelf.

I am here. now.

Only a two hour drive from where I was before, but somehow much farther than that too.

The move went off beautifully. D. states he is an expert mover, which I won’t argue – but with life down to a rocking chair, dresser, about 15 boxes (at least 5 of which are shoes and bags *sigh*), and 2 cats how can you go wrong??

Speaking of cats

they’re settling in just fine.

In case I didn’t tell you, D. is a Buddhist.

Please witness the girl-ification of the Zen space……

And not done by the girl, might I add.

He glue-gunned the fur trim on himself.

I’m feelin’ loved people!