Friday Night Blogging

There's nothing new here. I just wanted to let [all 3 of] you know that I'm doing better. I've got my chart back up and running thanks to Stephan agreeing to hold me accountable. It's weird that one small spreadsheet tracking only four data points can change things like, "I have a short temper." But it does. Or maybe it's the accountability. Whatever. It's working again.

And I've picked up my "Water" playlist again. It's the one that heralded the end of therapy that reminds me that Everything'll be Alright. 

Yup. That about sums up my life: spreadsheets and music make my world go around. 

Directive

And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind

I always find it fascinating when authors have mental breakdowns on their blogs. It's like a car accident that I can't look away from. As I'm reading I just keep thinking, "Dude. You have a delete button. Why aren't you using it?" I'm surprised that so many people toss their sadness out into the world and put themselves back together in front of complete strangers.

And then I read my own blog. Sheesh.

Am I running? No. Am I awesome? Not right now. Am I patient? Fine? Balanced? Kind? No. No. Not at all. God, I hope so.

This is like being at mile 5 of an 8 mile run. I'm well past the fun, fresh part of starting a run, and not yet at the downhill, coasting, almost-done, relaxing part. I've had a lot of great victories in the last few weeks, and a few moderate disappointments. Do you know what I could really use right now? 50 therapeutic minutes with a psychologist, or 45 with an acupuncturist.

And this... THIS... this is where the rubber meets the road. THIS is what I was worried about in May. This is the part where I blew off getting enough sleep, meditating, eating well, and exercising for the last four weeks, and I find myself looking at the sky from the inside of a formidable hole. The next few days/weeks are going to tell me if I was really ready to hold my mental health in my own hands.




To paraphrase my favorite meditation, "You're breathing right now. And that's cool. Keep doing that."

About Time

Cathartic blog post ahead:

A runner asked me yesterday why I wasn't running the Rock n Roll Chicago Half marathon on Sunday. I lied and told him I was injured. I made up something about wrecking my feet with stupid shoes.  I'm not good at lying. He looked confused.

The real reason I'm not running is because the acupuncturist has made it clear that my weekly runs are a big part of why we can't have another baby. It all has to do with overheating and drawing chi (energy) into my legs and pulling it away from the rest of my body. On bad days, that all sounds really stupid. On good days I remember that Sawyer has been an only child for almost 4 years. And... I feel really selfish continuing to run when I could potentially give Stephan another child, and Sawyer the chance to have to share. And... babies are awesome. I would have 6 if I could. But I can't. I turn 35 in a few months and that closes the window to safely having babies.

(I said safely. I've talked to a lot of doctors who have explained the risks to the baby of having children when you're "older".)

Guys,  I have no idea how long I'm going to be able to keep this up. Not running is seriously starting to mess with me. I haven't gained any weight yet, but I feel like it's imminent. Without the release I get from running, my moods are starting to wing around again. Every day I don't lace up I remember that there's something I "can't" do. And that just pisses me off.

Here is a picture of boats:

Still Alive

Hellooooooo. Ahoy! I just spent a week(ish) in the middle of a cultural experience that I'm still trying to process, in a place that was absolutely beautiful, with people I completely love.

I think I have thoughts about it. But right now, I just have some pictures of scenery. I'm waiting to post other pictures with people in them to get the approval of the people I was with. Enjoy these for now!!

View from a Room

View from a Balcony

Storm Approaches

Breakwater

Milestone

According to the American Cancer Society, the five-year survival rate for Stage IA Melanoma is 97%.

Well... guess who got the all-clear from her dermatologist on Monday to join the 97%?? Me!! He reiterated that it's a great plan to keep up with the sun protection, but that my cancer was NOT sun-related. He suggested that Stephan takes pictures of the danger zones on my body like my back, arms and legs, and compare them to my actual body every 6 months or so.

I was also cleared to have a checkup every 12 months, instead of 6. This was huge. I walked out of the office witha huge smile on my face, and then broke down crying in the car. Cancer is finally past tense for me.

And... exhale.

Can't let this go...

An amazing (truly amazing) teenager ran with us and made this video of our Ragnar experience. The music, the editing... seriously it all really captures exactly our experience during the race. It's well worth the 10 minutes to watch the whole thing. Enjoy!!

Clarity

High dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life...


Not running is teaching me a lot of valuable lessons. Here are a few:
1. Showers aren't a daily need.
2. I have to pay attention to what I eat because I won't run it off later.
3. Most laundry can be dried in a drier.
4. Taking kids to the park is a lot more fun if your IT bands don't ache.
5. It's easier to ogle the neighbor's garden when you're walking.

Overheard: New Appliance

Him: "Honey, did my eyebrow ever grow back?"
Me: Huh??
Him: "We're trained NEVER to shave an eyebrow because sometimes they don't grow back. Can you live with a man with only 1.5 eyebrows?"