I’m trying to get myself into a new routine in regards to exercise. Slowly I want to work my tush back into jogging, but it will take some time especially since I’m having so many issues with my legs.

Since I’m one of those annoying, irritating Type-A personalities, I’ve made up a calendar for January (and February, and March) indicating scheduled workout days.

I was sick in the beginning of the month and then took a trip to see Dad, so it really shouldn’t be terribly difficult to make the second half of January look far more exercise-ier than the first half. Yes, I realize that’s not a word. I don’t care. I’m tired.

It isn’t much, but it’s a good start and that’s just where I am right now.

I did a 30 minute walk on the treadmill last night while watching a tv show on my laptop. The sound of the treadmill drowned out most of the sound from the laptop, so I’m glad I picked a cheesy show to watch. Didn’t have to be focused on it too much. I jumped on the treadmill without realizing I wasn’t wearing runners and that grew old pretty quickly, so I stopped once to throw on a pair. Then, at around minute 25 the treadmill started to make strange noises. Clattering sounds. Like something had fallen apart. I kept going, obviously. Who am I if not the Safety Bear?

Yep. That’s me.

source.

And then. At minute 28. I smelled something. Something like burning rubber. I knew something was being rubbed by something else and that it probably wasn’t a good idea to keep going. Must. Give. Treadmill. A. Break. Sometimes. Too.

But I only had two minutes left. And the smell wasn’t that bad. And nothing was actually smoking, for goodness’ sake.

Do you wonder how I get through each day? Because I do.

If I had Just One Wish

Once upon a time, I posted a quote to Facebook:

Perhaps watching someone you love suffer can teach you even more than suffering yourself can.” – Dodie Smith.

My point was that I figured I’d learn something from the experience of having to watch my father suffer through cancer, even if the only lesson was that sometimes bad things happen to good people. Guess what? Bad things happen to good people.

I didn’t know what to do with the phone that was cradled in my hands when I received the phone call from my Dad that night. I couldn’t do anything but sit silently, saying nothing, while he gathered his courage, swallowed hard and told me the frightening truth. My mind went numb; I remember saying “Oh My God“. I think I may have even said “that sucks“. I was suddenly unable to say anything appropriate to the situation. I didn’t know how to process the information, how to work my way through it, how to come out on the other end at a better place than where I’d started. The “oh…“s and “yes…“s and “right…“s flew out of my mouth simply to fill the void where a more normal, intelligent person might be saying “do you need anything?” or “I am so sorry” or “you’re going to get through this”.

A comment on the posted quote came from a friend a short time later…

“Yes, but it would be easier to suffer yourself.”

Is that true? It’s absolutely heartbreaking to watch someone you love and care about suffer with a disease, any illness, any pain. Would it be easier if I were the one to suffer? Would I take it on in his place if I could?

They’re easy questions to answer on the surface. Yes, I would sacrifice myself in order to spare him. But it’s only too easy to say it without actually being held accountable, since it isn’t something that can be accomplished. I would banish the shadows from under his eyes, if I could. I would wave my magic wand and all the documents and forms required by this organization and that company would be filled out and sent in in a matter of minutes, if only to spare him from weeks of labour and frustration.

I felt so… betrayed, when I found out Dad had cancer. Not by him, but by those higher powers, the ones that should know there is no possible way I could continue to exist in the world without my father. The ones who keep heaping things on me, with the constant expectation that I’ll be able to handle it, I’ll be able to cope. I was finished with it. Done trying. Done making excuses for all the bad karma, and I pushed the blame button.

There had to be a reason for this, a purpose. And of course it had to have something to do with me. I did this. I did this to him, somehow. It was my fault. I began to back out of social engagements, preferring to sit alone at home. I outright disregarded my closest friends who only wanted to offer support. I argued with my Mom, I spoke to my brother only through e-mail. I grilled my Dad about the disease: What would happen now? What kind of treatment will they give you? How will you feel through it all? When what he needed was some time to work through those questions for himself first.

Looking back, I realize how badly I handled the news. I’m not sure, if given another chance, anything would change. It’s devastating news, to the person with the illness, to the family and friends. I don’t think anyone faults me for reacting the way I did, but I can’t help but think of a saying I wrote down a few years ago and kept reminding myself of: You can’t control what happens to you, but you can control how you react to it.

I wish I could have controlled my reaction more, but I hardly took the time to decipher what that reaction was, nevermind attempt to control it. You can always look back at a situation and think of ways you could have handled it better. I have to stop analyzing my actions; it doesn’t matter what I did, it matters only what I do.

Memories of 2011

So.

My brother sent me this spreadsheet in an e-mail back towards the end of 2009. The title of the Word document is “Memories of…“. It contains a few questions to help you determine the best and worst times of the last year and maybe, possibly even help you discover what you’re doing right. Or, conversely, wrong.

For example, in 2009 to the question “What was your favorite song for the year?” I answered “Don’t have one. Come up with a better question“. I am such a lovely person to be around. In 2010 I actually had an answer for this question, however this year it was back to “Don’t have one, ladidadida“. Seems to me I was trying over in 2010, and abruptly stopped said trying sometime in 2011.

Another awesome question “What were some of the most significant events in your life?“, and my 2009 answer “Grandpa passing away, causing me to take another look at my life“. In 2010, my answer was something about the G20 Summit. 2011? “The threat of death challenging me to seek out the good things in life“. Man, I really crash hard when it comes to dying, huh?

The main thing I noticed, as I was reading through my answers from the last three years, was that I (or perhaps my writing) had become… calmer. More relaxed. I was beginning to relish things that I had never relished before. Warmth. Comfort. Friends. Hot food. Believe me, I used to eat anything, and to me it usually tasted better cold. But this year, 2011, even though I’ve only just said I’m so glad it’s over, has made me into someone different. Someone that, dare I say, I might like to get to know better.

It is definitely interesting to note that this year I cared more about the basics, like wearing sleepwear as much as possible, travelling to spend time with family, reading lots and lots and millions of books. In years past, my priorities seemed to be geared toward money, cars, my passport (?) and a myriad number of other material things that barely skim the surface of a full, happy life. As well as wanting, needing, having to be the most sarcastic asswipe on the face of the earth.

Well, there is still that. Can’t really change who you are at the very deepest levels of consciousness, can you?

But, faze it, I iz all grewed up. Or cloze to ‘t.

“We grow neither better nor worse as we get old, but more like ourselves.” May Lamberton Becker

I’m fresh out of ideas…

about how to get back into running.

Oh, eh, yeah i’m still being relatively healthy and going to Zumba and taking Dog for walks and watching what i’m eating. Mostly. But this running thing, it’s driving me mad.

This month has been so hectic and unbalanced. In the last two years since my last major Life Upheaval, i’ve been able to keep things pretty balanced, pretty sane. This month, September, is my nemesis.

It’s been a wicked month dealing with Dog being diagnosed with lymphoma, my family going feets-up craziieee and bringing up things that have been buried over thirty years, getting a toothache, getting my tooth pulled, getting a gum infection, someone trying to use my credit fraudulently, not being social. at. all., plans being cancelled for the silliest of reason and feeling like a dummy. But that’s no different than usual I suppose.

I tell you, this has been one hell of a month.

But it’s not going to get me down. Too much. I will be signing up for the Resolution Run 5k on Jan 1st. Suck on that, Life.

Slacker!

Yes, I am a slacker. Sslllaaaaaa. kerrr.

I think I am too scared to try jogging because my mind is playing the “Your Shins Will Hurt” game. It is a tough mental roadblock. I have a 5k run coming up on the 28th! I need to be out there jogging. The guilt is consuming me.

On the plus side, i’ve been doing many things in order to give me an excuse not to run. Yardwork, housework, ball practice, walking to work everyday just to name a few. At least i’m still moving, right? And i’m not using the just-needed-to-lay-on-the-couch-for-six-hours-straight excuse. Whatever, I don’t care what you think. That’s me pouting. Ignore.

I will get back out there, this funk has to end sooner or later.