A Year is a Long Time- NOT

It's hard to believe a year has flown by since my Dad died. Now that Mom is moved into long-term nursing, I have the daunting task of tearing down the 25 years of my parent's lives in Florida. Last night I was thinking of my mother's old age as a revisit to babyhood. All it takes now is diapers, feeding and a large 'stroller'/wheelchair to maintain her, a small bunch of clothes, a few photos...and a routine of maintenance care. When we grow from babies, we master our universe. When we grow old, we seem to fold in on ourselves, until we disappear into a slip in time, like crabs scuttling out of sight of the known world. Dad, of course being Dad, had to go out with a big bang. Full on drama. Mom being Mom is doing it her way...losing herself a little at a time...fading out like an old movie coming to the end of its reel.

Dad is so much on my mind; wandering around the condo, I keep hearing him cajole, instruct and correct me about everything I'm trying to do. How do I answer to his memory or legacy when there is nothing I can do to suspend this process of dissolution? I can accept the times of change, but then I'm still a full functioning citizen of the world. I wonder about him- is he at peace? Is he waiting for Mom? Has he razzed the other world the same way he did us, kicking up holy hell until everything is in order again?

Memorial Day weekend was our jump off point, and yet it was the month before that he went into nursing after his big fall. At least Mom is not having major health issues. And her dementia is such that she really doesn't seem plugged in to reality much at all. This, I realize is a blessing. And I am glad for her that so much of her conscious thoughts are focused on her loved ones whom she doesn't realize have passed. I am certain more than ever: the way is now clear for her to come home.

Melancholic bass notes below the range of manic stress at work, and keeping up with my own health and emotional issues. I am the silent patient. When I treat myself, I look for all the inspiration I can find to keep my motivation intact. Today's Runner's World forum quote: "...be gentle with yourself" in response to 'burn-out'.
My very easy 4 miles- if that- today was a gift to myself. Enough to get out and move, breathe, think. Not any further than I could handle with ease.

So now it's down to functionality. The artist in me scans everything for meaning and design behind the curtain of Maya. My heart wants to be intimately involved, while my body keeps morphing into new and unknown forms...I want to create a new life out of these ashes that still carries my stamp of wonder, faith and belief in the right turning of this wheel.

Sunday run

Hot and humid with a subtle sweep of breezes; once the sun hits, the temps soar. Even out at 7:30 AM brings its challenges, but determination was key to hitting the roads this morning.

I took it nice and easy. Walked until warmed up, a gentle cruise through Emerald Hills and first stop at Winn-Dixie. (It's nice to have so many places to stop, thanks to all the grocery stores...). Cutting up from Stirling to Griffin, I had some rhythm, some stamina even if it was low-key. The stillness of the Sunday neighborhoods are my favorite; the absence of distraction places me squarely in the atmosphere of Nature, and I soak it up through the footfalls, the breath that moves me along.

Second stop, Publix on Griffin and a long enough break to consider my options; straight through the trailer park? Or take the long way, over towards Angler, down 29th? I loved that I had all the time in the world, so I chose the long way, and took measured doses of running and walking all the way back to Sheridan. Ran the overpass, barely. Finished out the last walk feeling tired but relaxed. Maybe 7-8 miles total? An impressive amount even if it did take me a very long time.

To have lowered- and changed- expectations, to be okay with slow, with walking, any degree of movement is still daunting. But all in all, today's run gave me a boost. Nature isn't going anywhere, and as along as I stay 'plugged in' there is still the possibility of rebuilding enough base to make running comfortable, challenging, satisfying...without killing myself!

Today I celebrate what my aging body gave me, in the smooth ride through the hills of Hollywood, and the opportunity to be with myself, inside my own emotional landscape.

If I'm moving, there's hope!

While my wonderful son and daughter-in-law bask in the tourist mecca of Key West, I finish out a punishing week at work and prepare for their visit here with me this weekend. After many days of short, easy runs, and yesterday's yoga day-break, I returned to the roads and pulled out more mileage than I thought I had in me. Finding a pair of more minimal old Asics, I cruised up Emerald Hills drive and the middle loop to Griffin. As long as I allowed myself to walk whenever I felt it needed, my momentum was pretty comfortable, and my energy, while still low, better!

I am susceptible to the trend in my own mind. Whatever direction thoughts are traveling, up or down, my emotions will follow like lemmings off a cliff. For the past weeks, I have struggled through a level of stress I haven't felt since this time last year, when the County underwent the same budget cutting process and my Dad died. I had my hands so full, and so many dramas were jumping off the chain, I sank into my predictable cage of emotional confusion and depth before I even knew it. The year since has been a slog of challenges and triumphs; the marathon last October, an amazing highlight. Mom's move to nursing home, a challenge for her and me both. Being left holding the bag on the responsibilities for my parents earthly possessions, and having to sift through their many years of memories, not to mention the legal and practical issues is a HUGE task... I am mysteriously on my own with this. Every time I turn around to see who can help...my son steps forward. My son tells me, "whatever you need mom"...and at least I know I have someone in my corner.

Running is a solitary process for me. My very independent, internal nature collides with a public profession; someone who needs to be emotionally accessible and helpful for others. I can turn off the tap on my own needs and easily tune into others. What I haven't mastered is how to plug back in to the world, besides my own natural tendency to regroup into myself.

If our basic nature never changes, what does?? I watch people change all the time. The more I fall into my own mind, the more my emotions shake themselves out for my education. I feel I perpetually need to nurse myself from one stepping stone to the next, which are the islands of solidity in the massive flood of turmoil and change.

Today, running gave me a hint of the old peace I mustered over those first years of building my base. It was good to know that somewhere deep inside I still have a runner in me. She may have woke up one morning older and creakier, struggling a little more than usual, but she still RUNS. Lesson to self: nothing leaves, maybe just dormant. Wake it up, wake it up wake it up!! And learn from yourself, from the vast resources and pleasures of your own innate curiosity and mind!!

Coping with Obstacles

"To know you are one with what you are doing, to know that you are a complete athlete, begins with believing you are a runner."

-George Sheehan


Ganesh is the Remover of obstacles. Once a long time ago, I had a dream about a large white elephant who came to my assistance. Regardless of the source of the challenges, there is an art to finding one's way through.

This weekend, the 2 runs completed were so very far from my usual level of ability; Saturday I did a moderate 6-7 miles with plenty of walking. Sunday, an out and back, walking most of the back. I'm hoping that now with the end of one of the problematic meds, the pain in my feet and legs will resolve. It feels strange to take this body out for a run; the misfit between my image of myself as a runner and my current level is hurtful. I try to feel compassion for my state and avoid my typical impatience with set-back. This hurts "the committee" of body/mind and needs the more balanced leadership of my soul, my Self to direct the healing process. And with that thought, it's "just take it easy", "moderate, consistent effort" are the mantras I tell myself out on the open road.

I still remember clearly practically the day I began to run; a walker all my life, I have the habit from childhood of wandering around long loops of what I think of as 'expeditions'. In the neighborhoods of my early years, pockets of nature co-existed with the increase in suburban development. It was my secret and consistent escape into hours of exploring the landscape that gave me solace in childhood. The pattern persisted everywhere I went. I walk to explore, discover, soak in the atmosphere of a place in motion. One day, after moving to Florida, I tried a little jog in the middle of a long loop. I still smoked cigs; I wasn't an "athlete". But even in the strange sensation of effort, the rhythmic flip-flop of my own feet under me had a trance-like effect. My breath was more evident. My thoughts settled down. In the first few years of running I cried constantly, finding a surprising outlet for embedded emotional pain. It was later that I finally 'bought' the identity as a runner. After I quit smoking. After a few 5 and 10k's...after my first round of shoes...after realizing that I was indeed running on a regular basis.

Like everything in life, I must 'believe' it internally first, then 'see' it manifest.
From artist/writer to mediator/facilitator to counselor, licensed and all, each leap was born with a picture in my head of some sort of probability. A sense of my ability, potential and 'mission'. It was in the days of Mello that an imperative was born that supported my process. Doing what I do in service to the changing times; seeking to put forward my unique vision and skills to help others realize their own potential. The glitches in my own health and well-being needed to be addressed; could I add the physical dimension and feel like this, too would improve? Could I build a better base of operations? I began to run like a runner. One day I realized, I was better, and my health reflected this. The discipline, strength in endurance and ability to regulate myself was all a part of the benefit from training.

This is the first year I feel a significant set-back, even while other goals continue tearing down the track of my life. Perhaps my body, now 54, was not quite up to the same pace of change. With menopause came freedom but also a decrease in energy and fluidity in all my parts. After the Marine Corp marathon, something seemed to require a deeper recovery than ever before, one that I still feel part of, which calls for a revamp of training. Or the concept of training.

So maybe for the first time I need a new vision of myself as a runner. Just as things shifted after my license happened and new opportunities present, the shift in my physical self provides other means of 'believing' into new form my 'athletic' self.
The Remover of obstacles becomes the Teacher of perseverance, going with the Flow, following the doors as they open, enduring the pain of change.

Today, I find a base. I do yoga to strengthen and rest the energy currents. Tomorrow I'll run with no expectations except to explore the neighborhood and relax into the motion of whatever my body can do.