The Sound Of Freedom

Last night my little chihuahua was getting really excited and running around the yard every time I let him out.  He was so distracted that he wasn't getting his business done and kept asking to go back out, over and over.
He's only 4 months old and sometimes still needs me to go out with him and keep him focused on the job at hand.
Finally I stepped out into the cold, clear night and realized what was going on.
I live about 3 miles from a gun range.  I rarely hear anything at all from this range.
But last night there was a clear and constant barrage of bullets that although not loud was certainly noticeable.
I often get a heart swell when I hear that sound.  It reminds me of what so many have fought for and died for.  Just like my little dog, there is not any real fear but a kind of emotional excitement that fills me inside.
I went out with the dog and stood in the cold and listened for a long time.
The sound of freedom is beautiful indeed.

The Star Spangled Banner Still Rocks!

I love traditional with a twist.  A good friend sent me this today because she knows that about me.

With everything that is going on in the world right now, I can't imagine a better time to celebrate America and the freedom we love.

Enjoy!

I'll Be Even Braver This Time

Last election cycle I did more than I have ever done before when it comes to politics.  I did more than talk and I got involved in local races where I poured my heart and sweat into trying to make a difference. 

The campaign I helped the most with lost by 6,000 votes.  It really made me sad and sorry for the fact that each one of us involved believed that we might have done just a little bit more to have garnered some of those needed votes.

But the truth was I was still too scared to really come out of the political closet.  I did my level best at talking to strangers and friends who agreed with the candidates and ideals that I was working for, but I wasn't willing to cross over the threshold of letting everyone I know in on what and who I support. 

Honestly, it seemed too dangerous.

What if I ticked off somebody I work for?  What would my neighbors think? 

I was so used to just keeping my mouth shut and nodding so an not to tick off people with my politics, even if I never intend to attack them in any way for their own.  Even though I don't agree with many people's politics and yet have learned to always be respectful. 

Somehow I never learned to expect the same for myself.

I live in a place where if you are not a 'progressive liberal' type, then your views simply do not count.  You will be laughed out of any political discussion with a knowing look of feeling sorry for how stupid and small your silly ideas of more freedom and less government are. 

If you live somewhere other than the left coast, you may be thinking that there cannot be a place like that in America.  Come here and see.  I dare you.

So, this time I'm putting it out there.  All the way out there!  I might make some people mad.  People may not like me as much.  I won't be as safe.  I'll have to put up with being called names, yelled at, being flipped off.

That's OK.  I'll be true to myself and have no regrets this time.

 

A sign like this is going up in my front yard just as soon as I can get one.  

And I'm getting a bumper sticker too.

 

These are not perfect candidates.  And neither am I a perfect person.

But I'll be freer one just for the fact that this time I'm actually willing to put it out there for everyone to see.

9-11, Remember Forever

Don't know why my 9-11 memory story from Friday didn't really show up for most people to see or link to, but here is a wonderful story of a mothers tribute to her brave son- Alice Hoagland, mother of Mark Bingham- who was on flight 93.  Read it here.

I love her attitude and the way she showed courage herself in the advice that she gave her son that day.  And I am impressed by the focus she keeps on what is truly important.  I am loving all the detailed stories that are coming through today of so many absolutely amazing human beings.

Feel free to link up to my memory story with yours, here.
As always, so proud to be an American today and every day.

credit: dewy.com

Check out the progress on the memorial area for those lost on flight 93,

celebrating how they sacrificed to save us from further horrors on that day.

A Woman's Worth

What in the world is going on?
I don't mean to be a downer, but I just have to get my thoughts and feelings out there about this particular issue.

How is it that I still live in a world in which women are treated like sexual objects, inferior to men, or even sometimes as mere slaves, existing only to please or serve men?  As an American woman, I have long believed that I am supposed to be treated as the equal to any human being on the face of this planet.  But then things pop up in the news and I am reminded that maybe I am only living a pipe dream.  And truly it leaves me sad and frustrated.  Not just for me, but mainly for the women of the future.  Where are we headed as a society if we don't value women and everything they have to offer?

I have a husband who treats me as the valuable and precious being that I am.  And I want to believe that every woman deserves that, every day.  Not just the lucky few who find real the real men in this world...

But the main thing I see that really gets to me is this:  Why are there so many women who are willing participants in this idea that women should accept any kind of cruddy treatment?!  Every time you hear a story about women being degraded by men, there is almost always a woman who is right there in the middle of it participating just as much as any man in the situation.

Again I say, what in the world is going on here?

A Memorial Day Thought

I took the weekend completely off from the computer when the laptop was put away before a party we hosted on Friday night. While I enjoyed a little down time, I did think of the true meaning of Memorial day. And having come back online this Monday night I find that one of my favorite bloggers has posted a lovely bit from YouTube that puts my feelings about our soldiers into perspective quite nicely. So thanks Christine over at a Deliberate Life and here is the link.  (Pause the music player before viewing.)
A Deliberate Life: For our Soldiers......
Have you thanked a veteran lately?  What do you know about those from your own family that have served?  It's never too late to get to know the important stories that sometimes never get told by those who are so amazingly humble.  Sometimes we only get to hear about greatness after someone is gone.

Everything Could Change At Any Time...Or Not

I ran into a friend that I don't see very often at a Birthday BBQ the other night.  She's the one with a child who was born with special needs so she is especially busy and harried these days.  Still, she took the time to really talk to me (while I held her sweet baby and took my turn at helping to sooth her near constant crying).  I couldn't believe that in the middle of all that is going on with her, she truly gets how I'm feeling these days.  She immediately picked up on the fact that my husband and I are in the position that we are attempting to keep our spirits up for a real change in location in the near future while managing to remain grateful and content for what we have right now.

But of course it made sense.  Her family is going through something so much bigger.  Their daughter will be having the first of many surgeries at the end of this month.  This surgery will change things to one degree or another, but there is no guarantee as to what the results will be.  They could be in for a lot of relief for their daughter's situation or they could be merely laying the foundation for a more profound result in the future.

While I was amazed that this person- of all people- got what we are going through, I am ever grateful to those who have not tired of my story and can demonstrate some level of understanding.  I mean, it is not like we are going through anything all that profound.  And yet, it is a big deal to us- this waiting for an opportunity to move and then also wondering what that will be like when we get to that point.  It is a chosen in-between. 

We live about 6 weeks at a time.  With every new interview or even the hint of an opportunity, we get excited and consider the possibilities.  As the process moves on, we find that we have a hard time committing to much of anything.  We don't know if we'll need to be at an interview somewhere far away or if it will be another year before we actually have any concrete plans.  We are resentful that we can't just sell our house and live off savings while getting to become locals and find a job that way.  But, we are also oh so happy that we have a home and a good job right here.  I have everything 'semi-packed' mostly in Rubbermaid containers and will be having another garage sale with a friend to empty out my guest room of all the things we have decided do not make the cut for being 'move-worthy'.  We have made many trips to give things away to charity. 

I find that I am more free than ever living in this 'in-between' way, something I never anticipated doing or feeling comfortable with.  I appreciate things more.  I pay more attention.  It is easier for me to see what is really important and to be able to let go of the stuff that doesn't matter much after all.  This sort of juxtaposition living makes for an interesting time.  It makes you think about what you want out of life in a bigger way.  You get to live in the moment. 

Have you ever done it? 
What was the situation?
What happened to end your in-between time?
How did you feel when it was over?
Did it permanently change the way you look at life?

The Thing That Changed Everything

**WARNING, EXPLICIT MEDICAL DETAILS, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK**

-may be disturbing to some readers

**Secondarily, this post has become extraordinarily long.  I have tried to edit things down, but decided that I wanted to post this as is.  It is important to me, but I understand if it goes beyond what you are willing to endure for a story.   What a day to post THE longest and most difficult post I've ever had, only to have it lost! (for a while)  Do I have timing or what?!**

About 7 years back I made some really difficult choices.  These choices are hard to explain and even harder to justify in some cases, but they were necessary.  I won't go into that right now.  I just wanted to find a place to start that seems to offer some sort of background as to what was going on in my world before I got to the moment that really did change everything...

So there I was, thinking that I was doing a pretty decent job of taking charge of my life and starting to actually live in a meaningful way.  After a couple of years of sort of readjusting my world, and over a period of about 5 years I went through a process that included clearing out that last level of clutter.  You know, the level you think you might never get down to.  The one that goes beyond any comfort level.  The one that includes not just physical junk, but a manner of cleaning out all types of psychological trash along the way.  I got rid of those 'friends' that weren't really true.  Let things that I thought were a comfort, but really just had me stuck in the past, go.  I started replacing those 'tapes' that rolled in my head with newer more positive messages.  I forced myself to try new things that I thought would never be 'me'.  (Not all of those things worked out so well!)  Overall, I decided that anything that was more of a negative than a positive in my life just simply had to go.  I was ready to admit to the life that I had really always wanted, no matter what anybody else thought, no matter how much outside of the norm I would be.  (Who the heck are those average Americans everybody is always polling anyway?  Nobody ever interviews me.)

It had been a beautiful sunny day.  My husband and I were in New York City.  New York has never been my favorite place, but we were showing 2 friends who had never even been away from the West Coast a thrilling time in the Big Apple.  We were on a trip that had been planned for months and we were going to see my husbands best friends brand new baby.  As we neared the home of the new parents we got a call from them asking if any of us had been sick lately.  Typical worried new parents!  But it was then that my husband admitted that he had not been feeling quite right all day.  In fact, he had been a little nauseous and bloated.  He thought maybe he had food poisoning or something.  His friend didn't want to take any chances so we ended up at a Walgreen's picking up an instant-read thermometer.  Everybody took their turn and we all checked out with normal body temperatures.  After all that, my husband decided that he was feeling better and the stomach pains had passed.  We had a lovely visit with the sweet new baby and it was so special to see such a proud Papa. 

After that, it was more sightseeing.  Experiencing nightlife in the Big Apple for the first time was so exciting for our friends.  Time passes fast in the 'City That Never Sleeps' and before we knew it we were about to miss the last bus out to get back to our hotel.  We barely made it back to the bus station and I noticed that my husband wasn't really keeping up with us.  That was just not like him.  It turns out they send more than one bus back for each line at the end of the night, so we waited for the second one rather than crowd onto the first bus.  As we sat waiting on a bench I realized that maybe there was something more than indigestion going on with my husband.  I asked him if he thought he should see a doctor.  He said he wasn't sure.  I immediately pulled out our medical card and got on the phone.  I found out that since we were traveling out of state, we should just go straight to an ER rather than try to find a clinic of some kind.  By the time the bus came, I was antsy to get back to suburbia so we could get to a hospital near our hotel room.

Our friends wanted to go with us to the ER, but I wanted them to get a decent nights sleep as we would be driving out to Connecticut to see my husbands sister early the next morning so they returned to the hotel while my husband and I went to the nearest hospital.  It turned out that there was a blue H sign right next to our hotel and we set out following a series of these.  After about 20 minutes of driving around, I realized that I was beginning to recognize the same landmarks all over again.  By this time we were both tired and I asked my husband if he thought we should just go back to the hotel and get some sleep before trying for the hospital again in the morning.  He said that he thought we could find it if we just tried a little bit more.  I knew then that something must really be wrong.  Just after that, we did find the hospital.  Somehow, it was right there in front of us with an empty spot right at the door to the ER.

I expected a long wait inside, but there was hardly anyone there.  The nice guy at the front desk noticed my panicked look and reassured me that if anything was really bad my husband would be 'doubled over in pain'.  He felt sure that we would be in and out in no time.  Next we were put into a large holding area type room with curtains drawn between patients.  It turns out we were not in the best part of town and there was actually a guy handcuffed to a bed with two police officers at his bedside and another that kept wandering around exposing himself to people.  After a little while, we got a little more relaxed and sort of enjoyed the people watching.  My husband went through the usual tests- blood, urine, physical exam and nothing came up abnormal, other than some loose stools.  His temp was normal just as it had been earlier in the day.  The doctor was pretty certain that he did indeed have a case of food poisoning or 'travelers diarrhea'.  My husband was given fluids as he was a bit dehydrated and was just about to be released when the doctor decided to do an x-ray of his abdomen, just to be sure since we were traveling and all.

The moment that x-ray was put up in front of the light on the wall, I didn't need any instruction to be able to see that something was very wrong.  The intestines were all distended and there was clearly something blocking the digestive tract.  Suddenly there was an immense urgency in the room.  Several doctors all stared at the x-ray as if they could not believe what they were seeing.  Then they began prepping my husband for an emergency CT scan and told me he would be going straight to surgery after that.  They also shoved NG tubes into his nose and started pumping out this awful fluid.  I couldn't even think.  The nurses told me to take any valuables as they had a way of disappearing around here and took me through a maze of doors so that I could see my husband just prior to his surgery. 

After the CT scan, my husband was wheeled into the room where I was waiting.  There was an anesthesiologist with him who was explaining that there was no time to wait for his stomach to empty and that they would have to intubate him.  We were told that this was very serious and that there was a mass in my husbands abdomen that was preventing the passage of normal digestion and that it could kill him if they did not remove it.  They were able to see that the mass was not moveable by any other manner via the CT scan and the intestines were so distended that they could rupture at any moment.  Naturally, I thought he must have colon cancer or something, but I did not ask about that.  All I wanted was for him to be O.K. for right now.  I just wanted a little more time with him.  I kept asking God or whoever would listen to my pleas inside my head for this to just NOT be cancer.  In my own selfish thoughts, I didn't think I could take that.  As my husband was moved into the operating room they let me stay with him until after they put him under.  I thought this was strange and heard one of the nurses tell the other to let me stay and have my goodbyes.  Then another piped up and said this was not goodbye.  She told me that the doctor they called in was the best and that if anyone could save my husband, he would.  I could not believe this.  How did I go from a bright day as a tourist to this?

I was led back out and left in a row of chairs in a daze.  I didn't know anything except that I was so glad that I was not alone.  I could call my friends.  They were just a short distance away.  During the planning of the trip there had been a time when we were going to be going to New York on our own, but fatefully our friends had decided to join us.  They came to be with me in a flash and didn't ask questions.  Somehow they both knew just what I needed in that moment.   After 4 long hours, a doctor came through the double doors.  He was a tiny East Indian man with such a gentle demeanor.  By this time I really had it in my head that I just wanted to hear that this was NOT cancer.  Sometimes the mind can get stuck on a stupid detail.  So there I was just begging for him to tell me that.  My wish was somehow granted.  There was no cancer!  But wait, how could he know that so soon?  How could he be so sure?  It turns out that when I got over the initial euphoria of hearing that there was no cancer, there was some other news that was a bit more sobering.  The doctor informed me, in his lilting accent, that "another 12 to 24 hours and I could not save him."  My mind went reeling again as this idea settled in.  What if we had decided to go back to the hotel and rest?  What if we had been back at home and decided to wait until Monday so we could avoid going to the ER?  What had just happened?  How did this happen?  

The doctor would answer the questions that he could in due time, but he wanted me to see that my husband was indeed still alive and much better than he had been only a short time ago.  A short time ago when none of us had realized that this was such a serious thing at all...  So I was taken into recovery and greeted by several doctors and nurses with huge smiles on their faces.  You could feel the relief in the room and we all shared a laugh as my husband started in talking about how it was very important for him to get back to work right away and that he needed to take care of things, in a very drugged out voice.  They told me he had been repeating that over and over.  Then the doctor finally started to explain to me what had happened.  It turns out the diagnosis would be truly unique and complicated.  My husband was found to be the one of a kind man that I know him to be, in every way. 

You really never know just how things in the universe line up as they do.  I just know that if I had ever doubted that there was a purpose and a meaning to this life higher than mere existence, all doubts left me that day.  This doctor had trained in India as an intensivist.  Then he had specialized in gastrointestinal surgery in the U.S. and had done most of his work with the elderly and more recently victims of gunshot wounds.  (In the daylight the neighborhood we were in was much more clearly NOT the good side of town.)  In all of his experience this doctor had never seen anything quite like what had happened here.  But his experience and expertise were just what was needed.  The 12-24 hour comment came from the fact that there were several things going on, any one of which could have killed my husband almost immediately.  He had a baseball sized abscess that was very near rupture within his abdominal cavity but not inside the intestine, he had multiple adhesions that had wrapped themselves all around the abscess and eventually cut off progress of fluids through the small intestine, and peritonitis had set in.  As well as the initial danger from possible rupture of the abscess or intestine, any one of these could have become a life-threatening septic condition.  So how on earth was all this going on without my husbands knowledge?  Well, that part is left to theory.

      Here's what we do know:  1) He has a ridiculously high tolerance for pain that probably grew slowly over time along with the illness.  2) He is one of the very small percentage of the population that does not respond to infection with a fever or a high white blood cell count.  (Some researchers have found that these people are often on the autism scale as well.)  3) He was born without an appendix.  (Since all of his intestines had been outside of his body during the surgery and searched thoroughly we can be sure that my husbands best friend is correct when he guesses that my husband is just a little bit more advanced than the rest of us.  His friend is a biology teacher, after all.)  4) Since the abscess was outside the intestines, the only reasonable guess as to what caused the initial infection is probably E-Coli which comes in many forms and can and will invade the body anywhere.  (Several other doctors expressed this guess to us as well when we got back home.)  And finally- 5) There is no way to know when or where this E-Coli would have infected him as people can live for years with an abscess that has been encapsulated inside adhesive scar tissue and is like a ticking time bomb that can burst at any time.

My  husband spent 3 days in ICU and another 5 in the hospital being pumped full of every type of antimicrobial agent you can imagine since we really had no way of knowing for sure what it was that had invaded his body.  Once we knew that he would be strong enough to fly back home, he left the hospital with 20 staples and 3 retention sutures in his gut.  The physical effects that ended up following my husband for months (and now years) after this were nothing compared to what this did to our souls.  This absolutely rocked my world.  It shook me to the core. And it made my husband believe that maybe he should not expect to live a long, normal life even though we had been assured that this whole thing really shouldn't affect his life expectancy at all.  It was so hard to see the person who had been there for me and provided me with the strength that I had so badly needed in such a place of uncertainty.  I was suddenly very aware of what it must be like to be told that a loved one has been hit by bus, but has survived.  Only to be told later that the person will never be quite the same ever again.  Over that summer, I watched my husband go through some of the most difficult emotional times.  Things that I simply never could have imagined.  His body had betrayed him.  (This person that everyone had always described as the neatest, cleanest guy that they ever knew had been compromised by bacteria.)  Neither one of us knew what to trust, where to turn.  Life, that had been moving along on an expected plane, had just moved to a whole new universe.  Nothing was certain and nerves were so raw and exposed.  We both had grown up with very uncertain home lives and had come to expect that as adults we would be able to control our surroundings and live in relative stability.  This had shattered our senses and left both of us searching for a new normal.

For myself, I found that it really was time to grow up.  For all the time that I had spent being a 'little adult' when I was a kid, I had somehow thought that I would be able to make up for that in my own life on my own terms.  But really I had just ended up leaning heavily on my husband for the stability that I had so badly needed.  This had left him empty of the ability to really feel his own emotions.  It was never safe for him to be a little off, even for a day, because I had needed so much from him.  My guilt was immense and yet I was a little scared of this new emotional man in my life.  The truth is that as much as I had needed him to be the one solid thing in my life, he had needed me to be there to take care of him and to feel, when he was not ready to do that yet.

Over time, we both have grown stronger in this new life that has been thrust upon us.  Individually, we have learned how to do the things that we had leaned on one another for, for over a decade.  I, who have always been so independent anyway have learned that if I needed to I could make it all on my own.  And my husband who has never let anything ever get to him seems to be more comfortable with the idea that sometimes you have to embrace and feel the fact that the world can be a scary place.  We have seen that our individual weaknesses can be dealt with best with the unconditional love we share for one another.  We have each grown grateful for the gift that is knowing that you never really do know what tomorrow brings and that any one of us can be gone from this earth at any time. 

My husband will require more surgery to deal with some residual issues left from such invasive initial emergency surgery and we have been putting that off.  There have been so many opportunities to get past this time in our lives and come out stronger- we have pursued things that we never thought possible and made life decisions that we once only discussed in passing and had put off for 'someday'.  During this process there was a song that had come out that summer of 2009 that my husband gravitated towards.   I can remember him stopping whatever he was doing to sing along every time he saw the video played on TV.  If you've made it this far into this ultra-long post, then you owe it to yourself to share in a little bit more of our lives by clicking on the link below:  Oh and thanks for reading, this post is very important to me.

I'm Alive/ Kenny Chesney and Dave Matthews 

Right On Target

Having survived my husband's latest actuarial exam, I am now in that in-between-tests mode of shoving every last bit of life into the days that exist between tests.  For a few weeks, we move frantically through life getting reacquainted with our other selves- the selves we know are still there waiting for us when we emerge from the haze of yet another exam.  Yes, I am so looking forward to the day when the last exam has passed and this household can get back to the business of learning life lessons in the ways that most others do.  Until then, these exams serve as life learning that comes up and kicks you in the butt.  But then, it feels like we're going around with a note on our backs that says "kick me", so really what do we expect?! 
One thing that has come as a side benefit from all this testing stuff is that the friends that we do have are true friends.  Especially over the last couple of years, there have been many reasons to sort of trim back on the people in our lives that just don't belong there any more.  These tests have certainly taken up enough time to hack off those who need more than we can give.
One person who I have made sure to spend more time with lately is a woman who is battling mightily with colon cancer.  (I wrote about her here.)  Even though she is on an every other week chemo regimen, she has chosen to take life by the horns and is filling every day to the brim.  So naturally, when my friend asked me to take her shooting, I was thrilled.  I do love and respect my second amendment rights and I love sharing that experience with others.
My friend was a little concerned that she might not be able to manage the proper handling of a gun because she has had a type of chemo treatment in the past that left her with some neurological problems in her hands.  Luckily, I had been a part of training another person who has similar difficulties.  So I felt that I could help my friend learn to handle the gun safely and proficiently.  It turns out I didn't have to do much.  Sometimes the will to do something overrides any physical limitations.  My friend was shooting one of my favorite 9mm Glocks' at 21 feet with beautiful accuracy in no time!   She did tire quickly so we ended up going back to a nice little laser guided 22 to end the night.  I was just so happy to have helped her fulfill one small item on her special 'to do' list.  When she remarked what a 'rush' this had been for her, I have to admit that I was experiencing quite a rush of my own.

Thank A Veteran

Whenever I see someone with some clue about them that they have served this great country (a hat, a pin, etc.), I take a moment to ask them about their service.  Some have incredible stories to tell and some don't want to talk about it.  I am always blessed by whatever these people have to say.  Then I take another moment to thank them in a real and heartfelt way, because I do mean it and I can't imagine what my life might be like if they had never served.
Sometimes the most amazing thing about those who have served is how grateful they are for what the military has done for them in their own lives.  I have seen and heard remarkable things about lives being transformed and opportunities had.  No doubt about it, the people who serve the military are unique and usually meant for a special calling.  I am humbled to have the chance to at least thank them and maybe be lucky enough to discover something about their story.

Cool Running

I like running.  No, really, I do.

Up until February of this year, I think I was like most people who believe that running is an activity best reserved for trying to save ones life from immanent danger.  And only that. 

When my husband suggested that running was a form of exercise that he might like to try and that it would be great if I would join him in this little endeavor, I was less than enthusiastic.  But he got to me in a weak moment.  He was recovering from a true near death experience and I felt I should support whatever it was he wanted to do with whatever time he has left on this planet.
 
I realized he was going to be fine for another 50 years or so, and that this running thing was a suckfest of epic proportions when it was too late.  I was already on board and that ship had sailed.  After 5 years of watching a yearly event that involved a parade & seeing runners finish an 8k and listening to my husband talk about wanting to do the run 'some day', we were going to start by training for a 5k run.  Don't get me wrong.  I am no couch potato.  I like all kinds of activities.  I love dance in all forms from ballet to ballroom and even belly dance.  I have a job that puts me on my feet most of the time.  But running?  Seriously?

Like most people, over the years I had put on more than a few extra pounds.  And the idea of hauling my overweight butt down the street for no good reason just didn't have any magic appeal to me.  But running seemed to be the only activity that my husband was even remotely interested in doing.  He has a sit down job and doesn't get a whole lot of regular exercise.  I was worried about his overall health, so I gave in.

I should have known better.  When we first got started, it was excruciating just to get down to the park at the edge of our development and back.  This one:

Sweat would pour off my forehead and it was shameful how far down I had come from my college level ballerina days.  It was only after a couple of weeks of doing this short 1/2 mile run, a few times a week, that I was finally ready to up the ante and increase the distance.  This is when my husband chose to admit that his family had a natural aptitude for running and that he & his siblings had done some cross country back in high school.  Yeah, I wanted him near death again.  But only for a little while.  (Then I found out that this 5k was really 3.8 miles, not 3.1.  I could have just screamed.....)  By this time I had fully committed to at least doing the 5k.  I wanted to see if I could really do it. 

I did do it.  Just barely.  In March, I did the actually 3.8 miles in 50.48 minutes.  13.23 minutes per mile.  Not great, but I survived.  I had to walk most of the last mile.  My legs felt like jello and I thought I might collapse right there on the spot.  Still, I was happy that I had followed through.  I had gotten to the point where this was actually getting easier.  So I readied myself for the event in July.  After all, 3.8 miles was pretty close to the 4.97 miles in the 8k, right? 

It turns out that there is really a pretty major difference and a real reason many people enjoy doing 5ks for years and feel no need to do 8ks.  But the 8k was what my husband always wanted to do, so that's what we did.  It was totally worth it.  Along the way, I learned some stuff about me and running that I never would have learned if I never would have pushed myself to this point.  I am a stamina runner.  I am not fast, but I am steady.  A hill in front of me doesn't much slow me down.  I just plug along and do what I need to do.  I can get faster over time and have learned a lot from doing sprints just to test myself and see what I've got in me when I give it my all.  Running is about the only time that I don't multi-task.  I don't even listen to music when I run.  It's pretty meditative for me and that's about as close or as comfortable as I get to meditation.  Running makes me feel free.

Shortly before the 8k race, it became apparent that I was now the motivator for our practice runs.  My husband is still faster than me and he would rather run than do other activities, but I seem to enjoy the process more than he does.  (He ran the 8k in 54:34, running & walking alternately/ I did it in 1:04, non-stop running because I don't have the running/walking thing down yet and I wanted to see if I could do it.)  He feels exhausted when a race is over, I feel exhilarated.  I have learned to love the miles that stretch out before me as a unique gift of that day and no other.

We are now preparing to do a 5k on December 4th.  I am now 25 lbs. lighter, due in part to running and mostly a lot of dumping personal baggage.  I am excited to see how much faster I will be over my time back in March.  I am even more excited about the fact that I am still enjoying running and learning more about myself in the process.

Can't Resist

Before it all goes down, I just have to get my 2 cents or so in on this historic midterm election.  I'm going to avoid pettiness or any urge to say I told you so.  (I'll just be not-so-secretly doing a happy dance all over the joint!) 
So all I have to add to this event is this: I would so much rather be represented by a closer to typical American, not perfectly polished, not a professional political manipulator.  The best person for any job is someone who takes in information, makes sound decisions, and tries diligently to do their best at said job.  I hope the results of this election can help to get our country on a track to actually be a place where average people can contribute in real ways to our wonderful historic tradition.
If you voted, thank you for fulfilling your honorable duty.  If not, I hope you feel more compelled to do so in the future.

Free To Live

A conversation with a friend, brought on by the story from Chile, inspired today's blog posting.
We spoke of pleasant surprises.  Like the fact that those men all seem astonishingly well, considering the ordeal they have just been through.  I am so happy and thankful for all of them.  What strength from within they have demonstrated for the world.

Do you ever surprise yourself?  It seems I do that a bit lately.
I never used to.  For years & years I thought I knew myself so well.  I liked to say that I felt as if I had been the same person with the same thoughts since I was about 12 years old.  I thought, 'Well, I guess I'll feel and think this way even when I'm 90.'  I know that's kind of weird.  I mean, people are supposed to change over time.  And even though it's true that I was a pretty precocious kid, I now know just how ridiculous that idea was.
So one day, I turned 30.  No, seriously.  It was like a light switch got flipped.  I realized, in what seemed like one giant flash, that maybe I wasn't quite as familiar with myself as I had assumed.
This person that I thought I knew so well suddenly had entirely new perspectives and desires, that either changed what I thought I knew or expanded certain aspects of myself in directions I never saw coming.
I like to think that I didn't go through the gradual changes that most people do during adolescence and early adulthood because I didn't feel safe to do so.  So it all came on with a flood of startling surprise. 
This rapid process was interesting to say the least.  Within a few weeks it was as if I had met myself for the very first time.  Definitely an odd sensation.
Some people were amazingly happy for me.  Others got left in the dust.  I wish I could say I was sorry for that because it feels like I should have been sorry.  But I wasn't.
I was just so free.
Free to have my own opinions and actually know why I have them.
Free to pursue my own interests without having to explain them to anyone, unless I wanted to.
Free to make my own mistakes.
Free to live my own truths.
Free to belly dance, free to take gourmet cooking lessons, free to explore old childhood loves with completely new eyes. 
Free to live bigger than I ever imagined. 
I never knew how small my world was, until I allowed myself to outgrow it.  My husband got a whole new wife.  Good thing he liked her!
So it looks like the winds of change are bringing more than just Autumn this year.
I've heard it said that people's tastes change about every 7 years or so.  Looks like I'm right on time...

My friend and I ended the discussion that brought on this entry with these thoughts:  Do you ever really know what all could be hiding inside yourself?  Does it scare you or does it make you feel free?