How Many Days

That's what I am wondering. How many days? Of uninterrupted blogging, that is.
Pamela Willis Watters has inspired me with her 365 day quest: each day a new painting! I wonder if I could do the same, not a painting, oh no, but a daily blog entry. It should not be that difficult, but it seems daunting to me. I first read about Pamela's undertaking in the Huntsville Times and that was also where I saw her paintings for the first time. And as we are talking firsts, it was love at first sight. Now we own one of her spectacular works and every day I look at the painting I admire the artistry, the use of color, the skill, the beauty.

I jokingly said to some friends that it would be easy for me to do a 365-day-project: I would see whether I could manage not to cook dinner for 365 days in a row. I definitely think I would be up for that!

But to blog every day, it means commitment, discipline and no excuses. At the same time, I think it would be a good thing to do.
First of all, I do enjoy writing. I sit down, gather my thoughts and see where they take me. Often I am surprised at the result. Second, we all need an outlet. Lately, life has been a bit bumpy and as a result, I started to feel a bit sorry for myself. But, as I have discovered, once I am starting to write I get lost in the process. 
Third, I will be doing this strictly for myself. While this blog is public and anyone is welcome to read it I am not expecting a big crowd. That makes it a pretty safe venture.

Now I just have to pick a date and then: ready, set, go.

Until then I will stumble along and pick up random thoughts along the way.

For All The Ill That Is In Us Comes From Fear

This morning I found that one of my friends had posted a status update on facebook in support of a cause and, to show support of said cause, this status update requested, that I, in turn, should paste same in my status. Otherwise, it was stated,  I would belong to the 93% who would not paste this to their respective profiles, implying that the non-posters are at best non-supportive or worse flat out against the cause.
Now, this is not the first time that a friend posts a status update like this. It is always the same: a cause, a request to paste something as your status and a veiled threat: or else...meaning if you do not paste this, you belong to a group of beings of lesser humanity, strangely enough, always to the same 93% group. It must be a magical number, 93% lesser beings. I wonder sometimes who thinks up these things. It frequently happens that I get this same request from several friends, all lovely people who mean well and who I know are serious in their support for the cause they champion, be it animal rights, humanitarian causes, gay rights, children with horrible illnesses, violence against women: you name it, it's there as a status update.
Yet, I refuse to adopt these updates.
Does this make me a lesser person? Does it mean I am unfeeling or heartless?
I think not, even though some may believe that my continued refusal to post indicates just that, a cold heart or worse, cold feet, in not revealing whether I am for or against the cause en vogue.
However, I beg to differ.
I am of the school that actions speak louder than words. They always have, they always will.
My facebook page shows that I have not clicked for breast cancer, I have not supported gay rights by posting it to my status. I have not worn purple, pink or yellow, even though, I admit that in a moment of weakness I posted a pink ribbon to my facebook profile. It was in support for the Susan G. Komen foundation who  has tirelessly fought to eradicate breast cancer. I know them well, having run their races and having supported their cause for many years. Also, in the interest of full disclosure, I am a survivor myself.

However, aside from the pink ribbon, I will not post their updates in my status either.

Bear with me here and allow me to illustrate. These days, my first husband  lives with his partner. When he told me about himself and I then told my parents I was wondering how they would react to the news. They had always taught us girls that all men are equal but they also had always been fairly conservative in their views. Guess what? It did not make any difference to them whatsoever. They knew already who he was. A good husband, a wonderful father, intelligent, giving, simply put, a good person. Now, why should his "coming out" have changed anything? Sadly enough, for lots of people, it would have. This is something that is hard for me to understand. Because, again, actions speak louder than words.

And thus,  in my book, the way to change the world begins with small steps. It begins when in your daily dealings with the world you, all by yourself, do the things necessary, to make the world a better place. Help your family, your friends, your neighbors. Volunteer at an animal shelter. If you are able, donate: time, money, blood, organs. Recycle. Listen. Reach out. Approach the world in loving ways. See the good in people, always, even though sometimes this is the most difficult thing to do. Most important of all, do not judge.
You'll be surprised how far you get in life.

So, I won't post these status updates. What I will do though, is, to live a good life and share the talents I have to make the world a better place. I will have days when I succeed and I will have days when I fail, and believe me, we all have them, the good days and the bad. One may have noticed, that I did not say: I will try...Because, and I believe this to be important, trying implies failure. As my coach once said: Don't try! Do it!

And this is what counts in the end: that you never stop doing.

For all the ill that is in us comes from fear, and all the good from love.

• Eleanor Farjeon, Martin Pippin in the Apple Orchard‎ (1922), p. 174.

Overheard and Observed

In the vet's office: "I've found a kitten and I think it's hungry. I just had a baby..do you think I can feed it (the kitten) some breast milk?" The correct answer is: "No"!

In the limo, on the ride back from Chastain Amphitheatre (Avett Brothers), other concert goers discussing the concert poster: "What do you think it is? A deer? - Or maybe a dog, look it has a tail...Why would they put a dog on there and those two babies underneath it? To me it looks more like a deer? It has horns! No, these are just its ears! I don't get it!!!"
The poster had a depiction of the wolf with Romulus and Remus...

In the hospital - the coffee shop, donuts and all, situated right across the open lobby of the out-patient center, where the surgical patients have to wait to be called for their procedure. No food or drink after midnight...per pre-op instructions...are they joking?

On the card from the anesthesia department, advertising their professional services: "anesthesiologist" is misspelled. A bad omen? Or should we just hope that they are better at their jobs than they would be at a spelling bee? After all, their patients aren't exactly asking them for help with crossword puzzles...

In the new TV series "Undercovers" multiple blatant mistakes in the English-German translation of text, signs, script etc. (supposedly the action takes place in Germany). Strangely enough, one of their main actors is German and several other actors employed in this episode are German as well. I guess they weren't asked...


To be continued...

He's Got What it Takes

Today is the day of the "procedure". When I was doing the pre-op the nurse asked me about my faith. I was a little taken aback but then replied: "Catholic - but I hope it does not come to that!" - and she laughed.
Now, this procedure does not involve cutting, but they will "put me under", as in, I will not be in control of anything for the time being. (not that I am, I just love to think that I am) Now, this is not a dangerous thing, but as the disclaimer always states, there are certain risks and in medicine, nothing is guaranteed.

Lots of good wishes have been sent my way and I am grateful for the support.

However, this post is for the one person in my life who does not get acknowledged a lot for what he does, because he just does and is. It's so easy to take that for granted. My daughter, whom I love very much gets to hear: "I love you" more often, since she is so far away.

But truthfully, with the ones who are closest to us, we are often negligent in expressing what we feel. I know I am.

So this is to the guy who makes me smile and laugh every day. He is the one who has what it takes to go the distance with me, day after day.
Who else would have laughed like crazy after I took the cinnamon rolls away from him (since he was carrying them "the wrong way") just to then drop them so they landed upside down?
Still a favorite moment of mine.
Or the time when I did not want to pull the baking sheet out of the oven to turn the fish and chips? He advised to do it and I (being the experienced cook) told him off. Predictably, the sheet tipped over and sent food flying everywhere. He was wiping tears from his eyes as he fished the last fries out of the oven drawer.

The other day I managed to drop a whole box of cupcakes, expensive ones. Everyone who saw this just gasped. I, however, started to laugh which earned me some stares.
Too bad that he wasn't there to witness.

He is the one who laughs with me, not at me, when he discovers that in all the years I have lived here I never managed to figure out the proper words to a song which did not stop me from singing along at full voice in the (unjustified) belief that I knew the lyrics.
Or the time I was standing behind a car, wondering aloud what the letters on the license plate could possibly mean, just to have a guy walk by who immediately knew what they meant and laughingly told me so.

He laughed with me in my embarrassment.

He should have known what he was getting into early on when he, my daughter and I went to Wendy's drive-through to order some Frosties and I answered: "Chocolate" when I was asked: "What size?" To this day, my daughter won't let me forget this one.

There have been so many moments when he saved the moment and the day by making me see that life does not have to be serious all the time.
And bit by bit he is converting me to his way of thinking even though I still have some way to go.

There have been many moments when he could have chosen angry words over laughter. Or he could have made fun of me, as for example right now, when I was editing this post and lost it. But I know what he would have done instead, namely calmly found it for me. Then, he would have laughed.

It speaks for him that I resurrected this one myself.

I hope I make him as happy as he is making me.

Cringe

In the gyn's waiting room, with husband in tow. We are sitting there, waiting for me to be called in for an endometrial biopsy. Not really my idea of a fun weekend, but I have postponed it time and again and just want to have it off my to do list. So, here we are.
Across from us, another husband is also waiting, and as it is with most husbands in these kind of venues, he does look a bit uncomfortable and none too happy to be there. By age, we do think that he is not waiting for the wife to come out with a little ultrasound picture in hand. (even though these days, who knows?)

Well, the door opens and the wife appears. She sinks down into the chair, next to the husband and says: "Well, this was just AAAAWFUL!" He seems not to understand at first, and so she repeats how awful it was and keeps on going and it becomes apparent to us that she has just undergone the same procedure I am about to have.

What makes the whole thing strangely funny and scary at the same time, is, that whatever she says, the husband does not understand at first and so she has to keep on repeating every gory detail, over and over again.
I don't know whether to laugh or to cry and this dear husband of mine can't help from grinning.

When called in, my blood pressure registers at 142 over 90...a rarity since we are usually firmly in the 100 over 60 camp.

The procedure is quick, uncomfortable but ultimately not any worse than other things I've been through.

At least, compliments go to the doctor since the last thing the other wife shared was: " Well, it was aaaawful but this doctor, he's a cutie for sure!"

Apparently, that was the only thing the husband understood right away.

Dancing the Hokey Pokey

You put your left foot in, you put your left foot out...
These days it does feel a bit like dancing the hokey pokey. In the podiatrist's office my right foot, after careful inspection of x-rays and some pulling and prodding is ruled arthritic and proclaimed unsuitable for fast running. Actually, it's just the big toe that is screaming: "Woe is me" every time we deviate from snail's pace to something that resembles running. Compensating only gets you so far (which is not very far at all). I file this mentally under" Big Toe Woe" so it makes at least for an interesting headline and therefore blog worthy.
After much googling (unfortunately, this does not a doctor make) I at least find some hope in ongoing research at the University of Freiburg, Germany. Seems they might be able to eventually harvest some cells, grow new cartilage in vitro and then give same back to the arthritically handicapped. Sounds good enough for me to postpone an unappealing procedure called "Fusion of the Big Toe Joint". I am still running, albeit not very fast. Sometimes it just counts to be outside and we are in it for the long run, right? I am planning to do this until I cross the final finish line, so to speak! (and who knows his or her own expiration date? We have to think longevity here!)
However, least we forget, we do usually come with two feet. One bad foot makes you compensate, two bad feet makes you - STOP!
This time I don't even really need a podiatrist. The pain in the morning, when getting up, is familiar. A nail pushed through the heel sounds painful and unfortunately, it is.
We are at the beginning of July when, after an easy 45 minutes, I cannot bear weight after running. I am a little surprised, since I have been pampering this baby with all the knowledge I possess which after so many years of running and competing is quite a bit. It does come with the territory, literally and figuratively speaking.
The injury has a name, Plantar Fasciitis and those of us who have suffered a bad bout of it, sigh right now and murmur deep down inside: "Thank God it's not me." - which is TOTALLY understandable. 2003 it put an end to a really nice streak of training and running and kept me in the gym and off the trails for 6 months. After that, which much help and custom orthotics, it healed and since my professional and private life did not leave much time for competitive running my maintenance training kept any potential flare ups at bay.
Enter the year 2010 and I feel that I still have some unfinished business with running. Despite the evil right foot, my left is good enough and the injury long past remembering. However, 30 years of running have made me cautious enough that my build up in training is slow and calculated and therefore improvement comes in small steps, but come it does.
Fast forward to July when fate pushes the stop button. What seems like a temporary set back turns out to be a lot more, namely that nothing that will usually deal with this injury helps. Dragging myself to Dr. Podiatrist just confirms that this will need major intervention. Steroids and surgical intervention are not advised since I may not run again after, and conservative measures have been tried and failed.
So there is one thing left: Extracorporeal Shockwave Therapy. High frequency sound waves will be applied to the obstinate heel, under anesthesia, and then the heel should, well, heal.
(The treatment encourages formation of new blood vessels and this in return should make the inflammation go away - simply put)
I am putting my faith and my hope in this.
It has been perfect running weather for the past weeks and I am aching to go. Well, even to walk would be good right now, because in this new life I have been having trouble even doing that.
So I am looking forward to being shocked and I am begging my heal to cooperate and to make a speedy recovery. And I vow here: even though "Speedy" was my nickname in a former running life, I will be content with being able to run again, I will not complain even when every muscle fiber screams in agony when running again and I will not try anymore to chase down every guy who has the audacity of passing me.
Well, let's vow for achieving at least two out of three, right? ;) And it is my dirty little secret which two I have picked already....

Procrastination and Inertia make Good Bedfellows

I just remembered that I once started a blog, full of good intentions. My opportunity to share deep thoughts, insights and observations. Also, all repartees that are a minute late which is why writing a blog is an excellent idea for those of us who are not quick-witted. So, what happened? One explanation would be that I just have no deep thoughts, insights and observations that would be blog worthy. However, I blame it on the happy marriage of procrastination and inertia. Right now, for example, I am procrastinating with my workout to write this blog since I feel writing the blog is less of a pain then another 90 minutes on the bike. Before, in another universe when I was still a runner and proudly wearing a shirt that said: Stop running? When hell freezes over! the blog writing always took a backseat which is evident in the lack of postings. So, that accounts for the procrastination part. I have not run AT ALL since beginning of July -which begs the question why no blog entries have been forthcoming. The point could be made that since then I have had lots of time to catch up. However, this is where the other bedfellow comes in - inertia which is, as someone once explained the secret to a long marriage. Now, this couple had been married for 30 something years and when the wife was jokingly asked how she accomplished staying with her husband for all this time she dryly replied: "Inertia". One of my all time favorite remarks since I am certain that this sentiment is shared by many (yours truly not included).

However, I just discovered that there must be another bedfellow called guilt and it's finally driven me to get another blog entry done for my digital posterity. That, and the feeling of "use it or lose it" meaning that at my age the gray cells are withering away at an alarming speed and to be creative in some form will stave off the inevitable decline, or so I hope.

It seems to me I will have to choose new bedfellows to accompany me which is not an easy feat since I love the ones I'm with. "There's always tomorrow" is just such a lovely sentiment for us procrastinators and it seems harsh to replace my trusted friends. Also, whom to choose? Guilt is unlovable and does neither warm the heart nor the cold feet.

Clearly I'll need some transition after breaking it off with my trusted friends.

For now I think I will have to go with good intentions and resolve. I will let them fight it out with my old buddies and we shall see who will be victorious. The way I see it for me it will be a win/win situation. Inertia plus procrastination earn me an afternoon on the patio with my kindle, enjoying the autumn sun while good intentions and resolve help keep guilt at bay. There's always tomorrow!