This is what I'm fighting today. Fatigue. I worked a nine and half hour clinic yesterday, straight through. I stopped for some grilled chicken tacos, leaving most of the soft taco shells for the garbage can, concentrating on the veggies, salsa and protein instead. I watched a netflix movie and fell into bed around ten last night, thinking I might get up and run but instead let my alarm jolt me up at five so I could be ready for the operating room if needed.
I know the coffee I poured into myself all day today wasn't helpful. Although I'm tired, I have an underlying tremulousness that speaks to anxiety over an unresolved situation that lurks outside my control. I'm trying to find new living quarters, I can't get a straight answer about my retirement account and exactly when I'm vested. A friend asked me for a loan and I had to turn her down. I think that bothered me the most, knowing that she was in trouble and I simply couldn't help her. Some things are simply out of my control. Again, I come back around to that simple fact.
So I get to what is within my control.
I am looking for a new place. This one has become unsafe, a poor value and the lease is up in a few months. I will preview one house this weekend and am talking with an agent.
I signed up for a 5K next weekend. I need to be around other people having a good time. Races are happy places.
I'll talk to a real person at my retirement fund - I won't stop until I get a real date regarding my employment and my money. It's mine, after all.
Less coffee, more running. It's a goal.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
My Circled Path
Distance: 3 miles
Start time: 10:15 am
Run Duration: 29:30 minutes
Pace: 9.77 minutes/mile
Temperature: 78 degrees (air conditioned)
Humidity: ?
Location: Gym at my apartment complex
"Are you in town and are you hungry?"
"Yes, and yes."
We arranged to meet at four and we didn't shut ourselves down until close to ten. The plan was to take advantage of happy hour at our favorite sushi place, save a little cash while we caught up on her recent travels (Paris!) and have a couple dollar-fifty saki while we were at it. Happy hour didn't start until five, so we passed the time with edamame and hot rice wine and then ordered off the special menu when the place started to fill up with other cost-conscious diners. We'd had time to fill each other in on the occurrences of the last month or so and to put out the words that we needed someone to hear.
Lonely. Worried. Angry. Surprised. Afraid. Hurt. Sad. Sad. Sad.
We've known each other for six years. We've been through ups and downs where we wondered if our friendship would survive. We always have.
We are both grieving. But we are both survivors.
We finished our dinner and realized it was still quite early. I told her that I planned to run in the morning. She smiled, "That's going to be difficult if we move on to someplace else tonight."
We moved on to another place, and another. We ended up in a quiet spot listening to beautiful music, jazz piano and bass. It's the same spot where I met the man who would eventually cause me to spend so much time in sadness. Life is such a circled path. I asked for a glass of the wine I've enjoyed there countless times. They've taken it off the menu. It was time for a new choice.
She and I poured over the menu, she asked me about why I would choose one wine over another, what makes a cab a cab, a merlot a merlot...it was just the discussion I used to love to have. It was just the discussion I still love to have, I'd simply forgotten. I settled on a peppery shiraz.
Our conversation was interrupted when I heard the pianist break into the full perfect chords of Bacharach's "This Guy's In Love". I turned toward him and smiled and he seemed surprised that anyone would recognize the song. It's always been one of my favorites. I asked him to play "Nature Boy" by Eden Ahbez, popularized by Nat King Cole. He did. It was lovely. I felt myself healing a bit last night.
Two women sat together last night. One experienced the death of her father, a break so fierce that time and distance have been necessary to firm her up again, to allow her to sit with her beautiful smile and shine outwardly. One experienced another kind of death, perhaps only perceived, but a death all the same. Time and distance have allowed her to hear the music that she loves and let it soften the heart she has hardened against future assault.
Jumping on the treadmill this morning wasn't necessarily easy. One saki, one martini and a glass of wine. Much, much water. I'm smart enough not to have done this in the heat.
Today I lift up my gratitude for Bevilee and for our continuing friendship after all these years.
Start time: 10:15 am
Run Duration: 29:30 minutes
Pace: 9.77 minutes/mile
Temperature: 78 degrees (air conditioned)
Humidity: ?
Location: Gym at my apartment complex
"Are you in town and are you hungry?"
"Yes, and yes."
We arranged to meet at four and we didn't shut ourselves down until close to ten. The plan was to take advantage of happy hour at our favorite sushi place, save a little cash while we caught up on her recent travels (Paris!) and have a couple dollar-fifty saki while we were at it. Happy hour didn't start until five, so we passed the time with edamame and hot rice wine and then ordered off the special menu when the place started to fill up with other cost-conscious diners. We'd had time to fill each other in on the occurrences of the last month or so and to put out the words that we needed someone to hear.
Lonely. Worried. Angry. Surprised. Afraid. Hurt. Sad. Sad. Sad.
We've known each other for six years. We've been through ups and downs where we wondered if our friendship would survive. We always have.
We are both grieving. But we are both survivors.
We finished our dinner and realized it was still quite early. I told her that I planned to run in the morning. She smiled, "That's going to be difficult if we move on to someplace else tonight."
We moved on to another place, and another. We ended up in a quiet spot listening to beautiful music, jazz piano and bass. It's the same spot where I met the man who would eventually cause me to spend so much time in sadness. Life is such a circled path. I asked for a glass of the wine I've enjoyed there countless times. They've taken it off the menu. It was time for a new choice.
She and I poured over the menu, she asked me about why I would choose one wine over another, what makes a cab a cab, a merlot a merlot...it was just the discussion I used to love to have. It was just the discussion I still love to have, I'd simply forgotten. I settled on a peppery shiraz.
Our conversation was interrupted when I heard the pianist break into the full perfect chords of Bacharach's "This Guy's In Love". I turned toward him and smiled and he seemed surprised that anyone would recognize the song. It's always been one of my favorites. I asked him to play "Nature Boy" by Eden Ahbez, popularized by Nat King Cole. He did. It was lovely. I felt myself healing a bit last night.
Two women sat together last night. One experienced the death of her father, a break so fierce that time and distance have been necessary to firm her up again, to allow her to sit with her beautiful smile and shine outwardly. One experienced another kind of death, perhaps only perceived, but a death all the same. Time and distance have allowed her to hear the music that she loves and let it soften the heart she has hardened against future assault.
Jumping on the treadmill this morning wasn't necessarily easy. One saki, one martini and a glass of wine. Much, much water. I'm smart enough not to have done this in the heat.
Today I lift up my gratitude for Bevilee and for our continuing friendship after all these years.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Wake-Up Call
Distance: 3 miles
Start time: 5:40 am
Run Duration: 31 minutes
Pace: 10.33 minutes/mile
Temperature: 80 degrees
Humidity: 87%
Location: Memorial Park, Houston
I decided to set the alarm and get a run in before work today. The traffic was great getting there, not so great getting home. Gotta dash and get my day started. Just a couple things.
1. The men who run without shirts in the morning have my "yes" vote - contrasted to the vast majority of those who run without shirts in the afternoon/evening. Of course this morning was the first time I've really given it any notice or thought.
2. Cologne and perfume do not make up for lack of a shower. Don't do it. Ick, people. Just ick.
Start time: 5:40 am
Run Duration: 31 minutes
Pace: 10.33 minutes/mile
Temperature: 80 degrees
Humidity: 87%
Location: Memorial Park, Houston
I decided to set the alarm and get a run in before work today. The traffic was great getting there, not so great getting home. Gotta dash and get my day started. Just a couple things.
1. The men who run without shirts in the morning have my "yes" vote - contrasted to the vast majority of those who run without shirts in the afternoon/evening. Of course this morning was the first time I've really given it any notice or thought.
2. Cologne and perfume do not make up for lack of a shower. Don't do it. Ick, people. Just ick.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Are We What We Eat?
Distance: 3 miles
Start time: 9:35 am
Run Duration: 32 minutes
Pace: 10.67 minutes/mile
Temperature: 83 degrees
Humidity: 84%
Location: Rice University Track, Houston
I watched "Food, Inc." last week. Brilliant movie. I'm an independent film junkie so I'd been waiting for Angelika to bring this one to town. It was worth the wait. I come from farm country in Kansas and I thought I had a decent understanding of feedlots and grain farming. Wrong. I will admit that this film is obviously presented from a certain viewpoint and many of the corporations discussed weren't officially represented, but many times the narrator stated that Monsanto, Purdue, or Tyson declined interviews.
Since viewing the movie, I've been very aware of my food options and I realize - as I type this - that I haven't eaten any beef in a week. I'm not opposed to consuming beef (I don't think I am, anyway), but I absolutely don't want to consume corn-fed beef anymore. I picked up a brochure this week that listed local restaurants that serve grass-fed beef, so there are options.
I'm logging my dietary intake at mypyrimad.gov. The site allows me to track not only calories, but also essential nutrients and it's been very helpful to me in noting where I've been deficient, especially calcium. (I underwent a hysterectomy 8 years ago and am at risk for osteoporosis.) I'm also logging my runs at the site and I can see how my physical activity translates into caloric needs. It's helpful to me.
So, back to the movie. Another change I've made since watching "Food Inc." is to try to purchase more organic products. It's not that much more expensive, given my desire to eat fresh food at home instead of eating out in restaurants. I'm stopping by the grocery on the way home from work and purchasing the ingredients for salads. Fresh fruits are a sweet treat in this hot weather. Something's working. I'm feeling better, my clothes are certainly fitting better, and I'm taking more of an interest in what I eat. I feel more active about it, more involved - less passive.
Thursday night, I was at dinner with a couple of friends. While waiting for our meals to arrive, I mentioned that I had seen the movie. The response I got from one was, "I wanted to see it, but I was afraid I'd want to change the way I eat."
O.K. I smiled and waited for my fish, my spinach and my lentils.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Miss(ed) Manners
Distance: 3 miles
Start time: 8:30 am
Run Duration: 31 minutes
Pace: 10.33 minutes/mile
Temperature: 83 degrees
Humidity: 67%
Location: Rice University Track, Houston
Yesterday's clinic brought one tragedy after another and I felt used up. I was happy to meet friends for sashimi and a movie and I fell into bed, knowing that I should set the alarm in order to beat this morning's heat. I didn't. I woke at 7:30 and decided that traffic would be too daunting at Memorial. Besides, I was done with people. I'd had enough interacting. Rice seemed to be a better choice for a more solitary run.
I tuned into NPR to listen to the news because I haven't taken time to download any new instrumental stuff. That's a goal for this week. No words. No memories. Not right now.
The Rice path is only wide enough for 3 walkers/runners abreast. I'm not sure why people don't fall back (if they're walking or running in a group of 3) and make room for an approaching runner. What's happened to manners? Is there some sort of strength in numbers? It's only common sense, isn't it?
There were so few people on the path that it wasn't a case of crowding. I see this often. I see it happen to other people. It's not just me. It happens to bicyclists on the road, too. There, the safety issue is magnified.
This morning a couple was approaching me from the opposite direction and would need to pass a man who was also running toward me. Rather than wait for the man and I to pass each other, the couple kept running (side-by-side) and edged me off the path. I really don't get it.
Anyway...
Better things about this morning: A man rode by on a bike. It was an old fashioned Schwinn. Baskets in the front and back, all decked out with flowers. I shouted out to him. "Beautiful!" He smiled, waved, and kept on riding.
NPR reported on Fred Hersch and his return after battling AIDS. It's an inspiring story.
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=106979404
Today's run felt good. I'm going to use it to remind myself to do what's right, to treat others how I want to be treated and to keep what's really important in front of me at all times.
Start time: 8:30 am
Run Duration: 31 minutes
Pace: 10.33 minutes/mile
Temperature: 83 degrees
Humidity: 67%
Location: Rice University Track, Houston
Yesterday's clinic brought one tragedy after another and I felt used up. I was happy to meet friends for sashimi and a movie and I fell into bed, knowing that I should set the alarm in order to beat this morning's heat. I didn't. I woke at 7:30 and decided that traffic would be too daunting at Memorial. Besides, I was done with people. I'd had enough interacting. Rice seemed to be a better choice for a more solitary run.
I tuned into NPR to listen to the news because I haven't taken time to download any new instrumental stuff. That's a goal for this week. No words. No memories. Not right now.
The Rice path is only wide enough for 3 walkers/runners abreast. I'm not sure why people don't fall back (if they're walking or running in a group of 3) and make room for an approaching runner. What's happened to manners? Is there some sort of strength in numbers? It's only common sense, isn't it?
There were so few people on the path that it wasn't a case of crowding. I see this often. I see it happen to other people. It's not just me. It happens to bicyclists on the road, too. There, the safety issue is magnified.
This morning a couple was approaching me from the opposite direction and would need to pass a man who was also running toward me. Rather than wait for the man and I to pass each other, the couple kept running (side-by-side) and edged me off the path. I really don't get it.
Anyway...
Better things about this morning: A man rode by on a bike. It was an old fashioned Schwinn. Baskets in the front and back, all decked out with flowers. I shouted out to him. "Beautiful!" He smiled, waved, and kept on riding.
NPR reported on Fred Hersch and his return after battling AIDS. It's an inspiring story.
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=106979404
Today's run felt good. I'm going to use it to remind myself to do what's right, to treat others how I want to be treated and to keep what's really important in front of me at all times.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
All That I Can
One foot in front of the other. I'm doing all that I can. Today I am grateful for waking to health, for a stimulating career and compassionate colleagues. I am thankful for time with friends who are simply happy to spend the evening with me, breaking bread and lifting my spirits.
One foot in front of the other. I'm doing all that I can.
One foot in front of the other. I'm doing all that I can.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Connection
Today was for stretching. I woke up and went through 20 minutes of Sun Salutation, Warrior, and Triangle with the Nintendo Wii. I've taken formal yoga classes and done yoga on my own. I like the Wii for a few things, but mostly for making me be accountable to myself. I'm so OCD. The poses felt good this morning, I was able to push gently, easing into my stretch yet not straining.
I had a massage at 10:00 at Massage Envy. It's a company that offers a monthly membership at a pretty good rate. I've had a membership for several years and I pay $49/month and receive 1 massage, then each additional is only $39. It's a good deal for me. I asked Samantha to concentrate on my back and shoulders. A long surgery Monday left me pretty sore from holding retraction. She worked out a few knots. I noticed, as she moved from one side of my body to the other, that she left her hand on me and trailed it across - never taking it from the surface of my back. I asked her to explain that to me. I thought I knew why.
"It's so we don't lose our connection, right?"
"Well, it's more than that. I don't want you to get stressed." She adjusted the bolster under my knees. "Right now this room is dark. You're face down. You don't know where I am. This way you always know my location. This is important when I'm trying to help you to feel better. It's really about your vulnerability. I know you're very vulnerable right now. You shouldn't need to worry. You might not even know you're worried, but your body does. I'm here to take care of you."
All I could do was thank her for her explanation. It wasn't time for more words. I couldn't have produced them anyway.
Losing touch is not the issue, keeping touch is. I don't know what to do with this today, other than write it. I need to write it. It feels like it needs to be examined, perhaps there is more yoga to be done (without Wii) tonight, or a session of meditation/prayer. I am in need of connection.
I had a massage at 10:00 at Massage Envy. It's a company that offers a monthly membership at a pretty good rate. I've had a membership for several years and I pay $49/month and receive 1 massage, then each additional is only $39. It's a good deal for me. I asked Samantha to concentrate on my back and shoulders. A long surgery Monday left me pretty sore from holding retraction. She worked out a few knots. I noticed, as she moved from one side of my body to the other, that she left her hand on me and trailed it across - never taking it from the surface of my back. I asked her to explain that to me. I thought I knew why.
"It's so we don't lose our connection, right?"
"Well, it's more than that. I don't want you to get stressed." She adjusted the bolster under my knees. "Right now this room is dark. You're face down. You don't know where I am. This way you always know my location. This is important when I'm trying to help you to feel better. It's really about your vulnerability. I know you're very vulnerable right now. You shouldn't need to worry. You might not even know you're worried, but your body does. I'm here to take care of you."
All I could do was thank her for her explanation. It wasn't time for more words. I couldn't have produced them anyway.
Losing touch is not the issue, keeping touch is. I don't know what to do with this today, other than write it. I need to write it. It feels like it needs to be examined, perhaps there is more yoga to be done (without Wii) tonight, or a session of meditation/prayer. I am in need of connection.
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