Keeping Pace

Keeping Pace

Weekend run down

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This past weekend whooshed past at lightning speed leaving my house in a state of disaster. My body and mind are in a similar state.

20K before.jpg

20K Trail Run
On Saturday morning, I completed a tough 20K trail run in the hills of Oakland. The run was one of many trail runs put on my Pacific Coast Trail Run (PCTR). Saturday’s, Sequoia Trail Run took runners through the beautiful Joaquin Miller Park to Redwood Regional Park. Traveling through the redwoods, there was plenty of scenery to occupy the mind. I found, however, that I needed to stay completely focused on the course as it was full of loose rocks, raised tree roots, and even a fallen tree branch to hop over. And it was tough in a big way. I walked many of the up hill sections and some of the downhill portions as well. Factoring in an unknown helping of steep hills, I had set a time goal beforehand to break 2:30 and finished in 2:29:05!

Sequoia 20K line up.jpg

My legs are still reminding me was an awesome challenge this run was. I ascend the stairs in my home on all fours, and have been making the descents by scooting down on my butt. The dogs have found this most interesting.

Running Blog Family Reunion
My big event for Sunday was a get-together with Brit and Mia. Thanks to the BlogHer Conference in San Francisco, Brit and her husband Scott were in the Bay Area for a visit. Thankfully, Brit felt that her trip would not be complete without a reunion with Mia and me. After many emails, we met at Gordon Biersh for dinner and a whole lot of laughs on so many topics – running being only one of the many.

As usual, I am forever amazed at the relationships that can be built across the blogging community. You would have thought that we’d known each other since childhood. Scott fit right into the mix, and seemed suspiciously informed on the contents of the many blogs out in the blogosphere. It turns out that he once had a blog himself which could possibly be revived in the coming weeks. *hint* I know for a fact that he has at least one story that you will not want to miss (especially if you are a triathlete).

mia, brit & juls_21.JUL.08.jpg

Since our meet ups have amounted to only once a year, it was no surprise that we didn’t want to say good-bye. We were out in the patio area for a total of five hours. Even our server went home before us.

By the way, if you are wondering if we may have been talking about YOU, the answer is yes. We talked about EVERYBODY!.

Of course, when I hobbled off to the bathroom, they even talked about me.
Go Figure.

P.S. I love you

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The activities in my support group sessions seem to be falling into the waste of time category.  On Wednesday, my mind refused to play along with the art therapy assignment.  The instructions were too vague and I didn’t have the energy or want to interpret it.  

I could not understand why we were not talking about the arrival of another Mother’s Day.  Certainly the group could have benefited by a discussion on our expectations and strategies for having a good day.  It wasn’t as if the topic didn’t come up in our pre-art discussion.  But our facilitator failed to clue into our need. 

A topic that I brought up (which could have been given some further discussion) was how I had once been searching for a note from my husband – some sort of message to say a final good-bye.  Of course, with both the advanced stage of his cancer coupled with the rapid progression of his disease, he never had the time or desire to write such a letter. 

I remember being angered when the ads for the movie P.S. I love you began airing.  There was a part of me that was curious about the movie, and yet I was angered that Hollywood felt the need to portray yet another false idea of a widow’s grief process to world.  That’s just what the world needs, more stupid ideas that a woman should get on with her life after a pre-set time frame.  3 months, 6 months, or 12 months: surly that is enough time to get over such a loss.  NOT!

Of course, when the movie became available for rental on iTunes yesterday, I decided it was time to see for myself.  I began watching it at 10:30 pm last night, in the comfort of my own bed, watching from from my wee little device. 

I was actually pleased with the movie.  There were distinct reasons for each of his plans for her (including the karaoke), and although there was one part in particular that I found disturbing, I was relatively satisfied with the movie.  I was glad that they chose to show her ongoing struggle with life, rather than my previous assumption (based on the short movie trailers) that she moved on with ease. 

Today, I am thankful that it is Friday, that there is coffee, and that I have no meetings on my schedule.  This has been another busy week at work.  I hope to crawl into the privacy of my office, work through my day, and hope that very few notice my tired and puffy eyes – the product of a good cry.  Of course, if the opportunity to get out for a run presented, that would make for a very happy ending to another crazy week.

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Finding balance

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My writing time has shriveled away to nothing this week.  I don’t know where my free time has gone.  Actually, I *do* know where it went, and it was good. 

First, my widow friends and our off-spring had a great evening at Chuck E. Cheese.  They played and we sat around and talked about all sorts of things.  At one point, the topic got pretty emotional.  I laughed and said that our counselor would soon be forbidding us to get together on our own. That lightened things up a bit.

Also this week, we spent an evening at Cindy‘s house.  We met her parents, who have been visiting from Canada.  They are just as nice as her, which is no surprise at all.  Cindy cooked up a wonderful dinner and we enjoyed a couple of bottles of wine (one better than the other).

Life is quite a balancing act.  The challenge is to find just the right balance between family, friends, work, running, writing, and whatever else lands on your plate.  Of course a good bottle of red wine sure helps too.

There is more balancing ahead of me as I take on a new commitment.  It will be tricky but I’ll manage.  I always do.

Go in peace

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YaYa saw my eyes welling up with tears.  He scooted over, put his arm around me, and began to gently pat my back.  It is so sweet of him to watch out for me like this.  Still, I wonder if he takes on too much responsibility in doing so.  In this case, his action was unnecessary. 

My tears were tears of hope.  As I listened to the Eucharistic Prayer being read, I was overwhelmed with emotion.  Jesus loves me.  He loves YaYa and BoBo too.  All at once, my sins are forgiven and I am healed. 

As I kneel to pray, my tongue worked the wafer free from the roof of my mouth.  My heart felt full, and my cheeks moist.  I wipe away the tears with the sleeve of my sweater before YaYa sees them.  I appreciate his attentiveness, but he is only a boy.  He should be allowed to be just that.

I look around me at the families.  I watch the little ones squirm in the pews and listen to the high pitch squeals coming from the wee ones.  Of the two Catholic Churches that we have visited, the families are what draws me to this one more than the other.  YaYa likes that they have donuts (although we have yet to find where they are served). 

YaYa has also noticed that the mass here is a bit longer.  It seems that he is not the only one.  I smile as a toddler boy tugs on his mother’s arm, pulling her towards the exit.  Reluctantly, she leaves with him.  I wonder if we will see them again today. 

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I’m Back

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I discovered a few things about myself in the short time that I was on my blogging leave (or sabbatical). I discovered just how much I thrive on communication. There is a level of feeling connected to a greater whole that I have been missing.

After Tom died, I tried to fill my emptiness with, what appeared to be a means of gaining this feeling of being connected. I joined several social networks (My Space, Facebook, & Twitter) and then waited for the feeling of belonging to magically appear. It works for my son, so why not me.

Well, that feeling never came. Instead of feeling like I fit in, I felt more like a high school student that has not been included in the clique of popular girls. Recently, I have been laughing at myself – out loud even. I have since remembered that in high school, I was never a part of the popular girls because I was different. I was one of the jocks, and proud of it.

More than feeling like I didn’t belong, the social networks also made me feel vulnerable. While I easily made the decision to take leave from this blog, after having my words appear on another site (without adequate credit), I remained on these networks. The feeling of alienation grew, because it is YOU that I feel connected to and it is HERE that I get that acceptance.

I began to rethink my leave. I also re-thought my membership on the social networks. I then deactivated those accounts.

I cannot say how often I will blog here. My participation in Blog 365 is not important anymore, but my communication to and from you (my friends) IS.

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