Running.

I ran today. I’ve been creeping back into the habit, but it’s not the easiest.

My concerns about a fundamental change in myself were probably premature. There is still within me a desire to hurt and exert. Thank God.

I kept pushing through the 15kilometres around the reservoir, and my lungs were on fire. I coughed and coughed and every time, my chest ached across my collar bone and down to my sternum. The muscles were cold and sore. My knees hurt and my ankles were threatening failure. But I kept going.

I remember one time a freshly unencumbered ex read what was basically an online workout journal I was keeping. He said, in the most egotistical way, that he was concerned with how I was coping with my loss. The loss of him (puke), in case you’re not following. I told him I was fine. He said I was making unhealthy decisions. I told him I was fine. He said he was concerned with my running routine. I told him that running was healthy. He said running until I puked was not healthy. It was, indeed, a detailed log that he had been reading.

It pointed out to me a fundamental misunderstanding on his part of what I was then and probably still am till today. I don’t run until I puke because of anyone. Because I’m sad or angry or any other reason. I run until I puke because it is "Run Until I Puke Day" that day. Have you ever pushed yourself like that? If you haven’t, then you probably wouldn’t understand.

There is a point of exertion where you are no longer yourself. It’s not a runner’s high, it’s a runner’s particulate extinction.

I found my forever pace again. Everyone has one. It’s the pace you can hold forever. Lay it in and you can glide for miles and miles and miles until the run is just another thing you do. Like breathing or hearing. Five miles or ten miles, it doesn’t matter. It’s the pace where your footsteps are silent and your breathing is another orbit of another world, important but not pressing.

Somewhere in the 30/60/120 sprints and four mile motto runs, I lost my forever pace. It was gone. I only knew how to push it or stop. I could burn it up or leave it cold. Words I have heard a few too many times in my life: It’s all or nothing with you.

But I found it again, though it is not necessarily between all or nothing. It isn’t some middle path. It’s another world of deep convergence. I’m not even sure what that sentence meant, but it describes it perfectly. It’s all and nothing.

But then there’s those times you hit two miles and just want to run hard and fast in the cold until your lungs bleed. And that is greater than happiness or sadness or contentment. This is the greater part of me.

Chip Off the Old Block.

I don’t know what’s worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don’t know why I instigate
And say what I don’t mean
I don’t know how I got this way
I’ll never be alright
So I’m breaking the habit
I’m breaking the habit tonight

—Linkin Park, Breaking The Habit

Studies have shown that kids with divorced parents are much more likely to end up being divorced themselves. As role models, we take the way their parents treat each other and use this as a model for our own relationships. And eventually, our kids end up treating their kids the same way because that’s all they know.

I used to take my boyfriends for granted. It could have been a way for me to distance myself to prevent getting hurt (as therapy has shown), or it may have just been what I thought relationships were like.

Though, I can't recall my parents doing the same thing to each each. I was told that they didn’t marry out of love, they married because it was the thing to do when you reached a certain age. Eventually, they merely inhabited the same house, not even sleeping in the same bed or room.

It’s a cycle, a trap. But that’s not an excuse for me.

I refuse to be like them. I refuse to end up like they did. I’m going to do my best to change that about myself.

And I will break the cycle.

Dreaming...

I’ve recently realized that what I want out of life is fairly simple:

* To live in a city I adore.
* To believe my career has meaning.
* To have good friends and great conversations.
* To fall in love… eventually.

Until then… “It’s the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting!” (The Alchemist – Paulo Coelho)

Recipe For A Success on a Wet Afternoon.

Vanilla Coke, Thai take-out, cookies and cream ice cream, a good book, Sixteen Candles movie and a glorious nap.

That’s all you need, really.

Dictionary Slipped Up? Ooops.

Last week, I was trying to think of a word but was coming up with nothing; so I visited a reverse dictionary where you can describe the concept in a search engine and see various word suggestions. The concept I described was “defeat the purpose” and the 36th word suggestion was “husband”…. other words suggested included “frustrate”, “skunk” and “disappointment”.

I find this hilarious.

S is for .....So What Have I Been Up To Lately?

• Caught up with friends after a twenty year absence
• Battled a nasty cold and but haven't quite won, even after two weeks.
• Had a dream about my neglected novel, guilty much?
• Made margarita out of the lemons life has thrown at me
• Saw myself on a videotape from many moons ago and wondered what happened to that girl.
• Then I remembered.
• Felt light as a feather after purging my rss reader of many blogs.
• Until I added new ones.
• Bit my tongue several times. Next time I’ll numb it with alcohol first.
• Stayed in warm PJs all day and felt good.
• Had a busy social weekend involving too much food and not enough Martinis.
• Thought about exercising but decided to eat less and sleep in.
• Told an 8-month old not to grow up so fast.
• Sighed for sunny days and wished I could bottle it in suntan oil.
• Wore sunglasses and waited for that light at the end of the tunnel to turn into sunshine.

A Date With My Past.

Last weekend, I attended my class reunion. It's been 20 years since I left school. This is the first reunion I've attended (they have been having them every five years or so), and since I didn't remain friends with most of my school friends (except for a handful), this was the first time I've seen these people in 20 years.

What made me decide to go?

Curiosity, I guess. And an acceptance of where I am in my life now. I'm not sure I would have felt the same way when I had the opportunity to attend previous reunions.

I no longer felt embarrassed over my marital status or lack of children. And I was no longer concerned that I wasn't aging as well as I could.

The experience was surreal. I felt as if I was entering into some sort of time warp. What did I learn?

• I am aging QUITE well if I say so myself.
• My marital status is no worse than those on their 2nd or even 3rd marriage.
  
• I am, indeed, old enough to have a child in high school.
  
• Some of the people that I barely knew in high school seem to be really interesting now, quality people.
• People whom I found intimidating in high school did not have that effect on me now.
• I felt oddly comfortable in this room of "strangers". There's something about sharing a history, a foundation, that creates a sense of bonding.
  

R is for .... Real Determination...

Over the past few weeks, I've worked hard to be happier for myself. It's not exactly an easy thing to do when you've spent your entire life planning the rest of it away. The trick isn't just about taking it easy, it's also trusting yourself that everything works out even if your fingers aren't deep in it.

Yet, finding out that you can be happy for yourself, doesn't mean that others can be happy for you too. It's a harsh world we live it that hardly anyone can appreciate the aesthetics of your own perspectives or the effort you put into to getting the things you want, the things that make you happy. It's one thing to be happy for yourself, it's another to have a someone share that happiness with you.

Still, even with realizing this obvious part of life, it's a good thing I still can be happy for myself. Yeah, it can be a little depressing to know that people thrive on making other people feel miserable. It can be lonely to have not even those closest to you share in the appreciation of hard earn rewards. But the basic parts of life don't start with other people, they end with it.

Happiness always starts from you. Whether you're genuinely living in a yoghurt commercial or like me skewed enough to like the darker side of life. Your smile starts with your sense of self. Where everything goes from there is entirely up to you. Whether you want to spread your joy or keep it there. It doesn't really matter what people do. After all, if you can't get yourself down…how can anyone else do that for you?

Adventurous?

One of my favorite songs contains the lyrics “With every broken heart we should become more adventurous.”

I suppose you could say I have used this as my mantra of sorts, diving in head first whenever I meet someone I am interested in, even if it means ignoring warning flags, or in some cases ignoring bright neon signs warning me of impending doom. After all, that’s what being adventurous means, right?

Well, I’ve been dating for twenty years now and must say that I’ve started to see a pattern emerge in my past relationships, especially in the last few. Leading me to question: at what point do I have to consider that maybe I have stopped being adventurous and have simply started being stupid?

Something to think about.

A Cupcake Kinda Day.

Today is one of those odd days, I’ve been unusually tired, cranky, and I actually burst into tears for absolutely no reason at all this morning. Thank goodness today is my day off!

So for a nutritionally poor but emotionally healthy supper, I’m having chocolate cupcakes! The butter cream frosting is a little heavy and a tad brown (too much vanilla) but I’m willing to bet this is just what I need, after all… “A day without chocolate is a day without sunshine!”