write – The Morning High Runner

I have a confession to make dear reader. I have gone through the whole of my life thinking I was concerned about others and taking care of those around me. But when shown the other perspective, I realized I am not the woman I thought I was.

In my mind, I am thoughtful and do nice things for others. In my mind I give my family what they need and do so without asking anything. In my mind, I’m pretty cool. However, I had my behavior pattern pointed out to me. I am not the things I think I am. There is no “goes without saying” because it somehow slipped my mind that no one can read my mind. I hate these hard truths about myself. But at the same time, it gives me a new way to see the person that I am.

Personally, I wish I could blame it all on my changing female body and the hormonal changes that come with getting older. I’m not a spring chicken anymore, so I know my body is doing the weirdest shit possible. I can see that I do all the good things for myself, drink water, move my body regularly, not binge eat Harbro gummy bears when I want to because they are there and delicious. And yet. Somehow I feel like my body is slowing down and telling me that I am getting older.

I wish I could lie to myself and say it’s because I’m stressed out. We are all stressed. This is more than it’s just stress. This is me not taking a good look at me and seeing what my best friend, my partner sees in me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a sign of an ending to us. No. Quite the contrary in fact. I am not objective when I look at me. I want to think I’m some kind of modern, everyday, run of the mill, small town person. I like to think of myself as being pretty but not too beautiful because to be beautiful is to be vain. And I think I’m fucking awesome at being alive but don’t want to be too prideful. Insert the soliloquy of America Ferrera in the movie Barbie. Wow. Well done sister!

I have come to see myself in a different way. I’m slower, easier to anger, and faster to forget. I put in a lot of lip service and I don’t mean it. I was asked recently, that if it came down to my parents and sisters or my husband and his daughter, I would chose my sisters. And it’s stuck with me since then. I was thinking about it at work too. And it makes me wonder.

I feel like this needs to be said. I have presented like that for a long time. It was in little things. Such as the photos on my Lock Screen. Now I open it just to see the photos. I have loved writing and yet I have never written to advocate for our girls. There is so much that I have left undone (I feel an underlying theme here lately 😑👎🏻).

Since then, and when I say then I’m referring to when I started this one in November.. November 15 to be exact, I have began taking a low dose of estrogen. I started looking at people in life for who they are, not just who they are to me. That one is a hard one. I have put a lot more thought into making my relationships better. Showing affection and using a softer voice. That’s not an easy one either. Stayed off my phone more with the kids over and played with legos and cars and Buzz Lightyear. I am being an active part of my life again and running again (except for today when the Yolandi was very clear that she wanted to go home. And I know from previous days like this, that she will ensure we go back with her way because that is her way!). I find joy in my everyday life and I’m so grateful for it all.

Action needs to be a dominant force. Action needs to be my new word. Am I setting a resolution? No. I want to look at it like it doesn’t have to be a lot of progress. Just forward progress. Forward with the business. Forward with writing. Forward with a podcast. Just forward.

I feel like forward action is the theme I am going to be embracing now. Forward action to get further this year than last.

I have been running again. Not too far or anything but I’m going to finish my 1024km challenge this year. I have forgotten that it will make me sore in parts that haven’t been that sore for a while. It’s almost like starting over but I already know what to expect so there isn’t any guesswork. I had to loosen the dog’s harness yesterday after our run because she just wasn’t in it at all. I’m going to be adding miles this coming week. I haven’t done the loop in so very long it’s time I see it again. And early will be better as the ground is frozen and I can get away with being in the mud on the side of the road. I’m looking forward to running this year. I don’t have any goals for it, but I’m taking it easy this month and will be upping miles a great deal next month. If I can hit about three miles a day, that will give me a good deal of miles. But I’m wanting to get better times too so I’ll be doing work at home too. Like stretching and strength training. Oh it’ll be amazing!!

Anyhow, dear reader, if you got this far I thank you. I have wandered off topic a bit but I’m getting there again. I have a lot of work to do on myself. And today is the first day of the rest of my life. Unless it’s the last day of course. Happy Friday to you all. Let’s go have an adventure. 😎❤️

By now, if you are reading this, you have have realized I can be very wishy washy about my life and decisions and how I roll with everything. However, unless you live at sea with no contact with the outside world, well, likely then you wouldn’t be reading this. The world is in chaos and it’s a trying time for all. I can’t seem to understand the whole idea of hoarding toilet paper, and if I see people who do, I want to kick them. If we just shopped once a week, got the things we needed for that week and went home, there, very likely, wouldn’t be such a shortage. But seriously, what the actual fuck?

The year hasn’t been the most awesome for me. I mean there have been some really super cool things that I have finished and I’m very excited and grateful for that. I have run a marathon. And been sick, and haven’t run that much. I have started to clean up my life and clean things out of the house, too many clothes to say, I am constantly going through my stuff now and thinking it’s ok to let it go.

The virus from hell has been unleashed and is making it’s way to every part of out tiny little world, drawing us more together, though, we can’t actually be together. Store shelves are empty and people are in a panic about life and their place in it. It’s a strange time. I am considered to be essential personnel due to working at the bank. Part of me is so grateful for my job and that I am able to go to it. And the other part of me wants to use that time to my advantage and do some things that I haven’t been able to do. Like my writing classes that I have meaning to get through.

And in the midst of this whole thing, my grandma died. It’s like life has stood still for the last week and I can’t seem to make sense of the whole thing. The thought of losing a parent kills me to the core, so, I can only guess how my mom and uncles are doing. As Rick said, “I just lost my mom, how the hell do you think I’m doing? I’m not okay.” She died on Thursday a week from this last one. Nine days ago. It’s very surreal. There are so many stories I could tell about her. I had the chance to live with her and my grandpa when I was young.. Like 19 or so. I got to see her as an adult (kind of an adult. I wasn’t living with my parents, but, I wasn’t living on my own either.) and that made a lot of difference in how I was able to interact with her. We would talk about boys and if they were cute. She was so funny about that. She was the first one to take me to the ocean when I was 8. As so many mornings are at the beach, gray and overcast, that morning was the same. I wanted to run straight into it. I let the waves chase me up and down the beach. I had sand in between my toes and the smell of the water, so much salt, was stuck in my nose.

Needless to say, I, like my family are heartbroken. But, even in all that I knew about her, and all the times I got to spend with her, she was more than that to so many other people. I was able to attend a grave side service for her this week. Thursday. It started out sunny, and by the time we were done, it was cold and windy. I kept thinking to myself if I don’t get ready to go, it didn’t really happen. I wanted to hug her one more time and tell her how much she influenced me in my life. And I can’t do that. So for the last week, I have thought of different ways I could honor her memory. She was 88. Born in 1931, during The Depression. She had many danish cookie tins full of buttons, because you never know when you won’t be able to buy those things. She and my grandpa had many different things they did to make money, but, mostly, they did it themselves. He was an electrician then a general contractor. They owned apartments and ran an assisted living home. She was an amazing seamstress and worked many hours creating wedding dresses. I don’t have the same interests she did, though we share a love of music. She was recently telling my husband that she used to play flute. She gave it away and missed playing it… my mom has it. She didn’t remember that she gave it to her. But it’s got me thinking about music again.

For these reasons I have decided that I am going to use the things I love to help honor her. I feel best when I run. So the first way I am going honor her, is to run from this day, today, Saturday March 28th, for 88 days. One day for every year she was alive. At least two miles a day. She was proud of my running and it felt good to see that pride in her eyes. The next way I am going to honor her is to take this shelter in place seriously and use these days, I am going to do something to help myself learn to use writing as a full time gig thus allowing me to do what I love and be able to have the freedom to do the things that make me feel good. Writing is one thing that I love doing and I want to do that as my full time gig for living. But not like full time like I work now. I mean I want to write and create art using painting and pottery and somehow making a comic. Every day I will do something to help myself to get to where I want to be, until I reach my goal. And from there, don’t stop learning about it to get better at it. The third and last way I will honor her memory is take up music again. I have a violin, but it’s not for me. I love the sound of the brass. I will find me a new or like new used trumpet and I will play again. I will play with a group again. With any luck, I will be back to playing as much as I did when I was in school, about an hour and half a day. Maybe more on days when I’m having a hard time with something and maybe less when it’s close to a performance.

My heart is hurting and so sad. I miss her. She taught me so much. In her honor I will raise a glass of diet Pepsi and eat my apple slices, put on some terrible soap opera and create something beautiful. She had a little tv in the sewing room and we watched terrible soap operas. She had my sisters and I iron handkerchiefs. They do look so much better when ironed. There is no denying that. In her honor.

Today, I used my watch, but I didn’t care about the time it took to get my two miles in. I went slowly and made sure to let the dog sniff as she hasn’t been able to get out much this week either. We got to see ducks at the lake and then my favorite pair of ladies. These two are gems for sure. Not sure how it happened, but, they are together and I love to see them in the mornings. We went home and it was a short run, but, since I have been so inconsistent with running for the last three months, I need to work up to it a little. Will be back to long runs in no time.

I am so grateful for the family that I have. They have always been my rock. I am truly blessed. Death will come to us all, and there is no stopping it. But for now, I can be happy about the time I have with the ones I love the most.

Tag: write

A Hard Truth

The First Quarter