Sunday reflections

I had just finished crossing a busy intersection today (at the end of an 8.5ish mile run/stagger...more to come on that) when I heard what can only be described as a blood-curdling shriek. I spun around, pulse racing, expecting to see something traumatic/tragic, and ready to leap into action. It was such a primal and visceral response that I'm wildly curious as to what I could have physically accomplished in that moment (when I thought I had no strength left).  It did not feel outside the realm of reality to presume I could have sprinted 50 meters and lifted a car off of a human. Thankfully, that wasn't necessary. Upon  spinning around, I saw a pretty blonde girl wearing graduation robes, half hanging out of a car, and hollering at some guys (I can only assume she knew) also wearing graduation robes who were across the intersection on bikes. Ah, youth :)

It made me nostalgic for the enthusiasm and wide-openness that accompanies such a momentous life event. While there are a lot of really great things about adulthood (and I honestly don't miss being 22), I find I must fight so hard to hold on to the beauty and potential in every day, lest the 'joie de vivre' be swept away in the constant plodding forward of the mundane. It seems like so many people become so bitter in middle age, and I never want that to be me...because it's both unpleasant to be around and unpleasant to live that way. Also, I suspect, not the abundant life Jesus was talking about.

After a lovely visit to St. Louis last week, I was laid up for a couple of days with a mystery illness (I suspect it may have been a cheesy enchilada from El Maguey that became lodged somewhere in my digestive tract and emanated evil in the form of headache, fever and general malaise, but I digress). I laid in the dark and surfed the internet a lot, but also watched a documentary called Happy which I must now recommend. It's been in my queue for well over 6 months (since my last 'documentary kick') and I'm so glad I finally watched it. Informative, induced introspection, and made me feel all warm & fuzzy inside.

Speaking of introspection, I spent some time yesterday perusing my old journals, poetry, and prose. It's quite an impressive and cringe-worthy collection, beginning with the poem eulogizing my first pet, followed by much lamenting about not feeling understood (except for those summers I spent at 'smart-kids camp') and a plethora of poems and gushing about love and various boys (that just make me want to pat the top of 14-year-old Rachel's head and say "isn't that precious" in a church lady voice). I've said it before and I'll say it again: life is long and weird and wonderful. My task now is to decide which, if any, of my works are fit for publication on this blog. Stay tuned.

Where feet may fail

Have you heard this song?

Because I can't stop listening to it.

I read or heard somewhere recently that we are most responsive when God calls to us through beauty or pain, and that is certainly true in my life. For a while now it's been a time* of pain for me; a time extended by my stubborn refusal to acknowledge said pain, which always ends up only causing more. Just like a person who ignores an injury, pretending it will go away, until they finally land in the operating room with a gangrenous limb needing to be amputated. It may sound extreme, but you'd be shocked how often it happens. In a similar way, I find myself at times emotionally hobbling through the days, unable to connect with what I feel because I'm too wrapped up in chasing distraction after distraction. Music often serves as a bridge to my feelings...and that's what happened with this song.

I'm so thankful God never gets fed up or turns away from me in anger. I'm thankful for this journey he's been leading me on. I'm thankful for all the amazing people I've met along the way and traveled alongside for a time. I'm excited to find out what's next, even though it's often a painful process of giving up control (the sweetest illusion) and learning to trust God.

*(please note the deliberate non-usage of the word 'season' which is one of those stuff-Christians-say words that has crept into my vocabulary against my will)

The mystery of the dead honeybee and other things

I've been living in this apartment since July 2011, and periodically I will find a single dead (or occasionally living) honeybee near the window. It continues to baffle me how they get in. I've been sitting on the couch reading and suddenly become aware of buzzing against the window...it's like they appear out of mid-air, one at a time. Is it possible that a bee would make the long, dark journey down my chimney only to become trapped and then ripped apart by the tornado-force winds of my Dyson? Tragic...

Half-marathon training is going well, although it's definitely cutting into my free time (mostly because I'm so slow). I ran with a woman from my gym last weekend, which was great because she's faster than  me and we talked as we ran. So I went ahead and considered that my speedwork for the week...because I still don't know what that means. 9 miles total last week, shooting for 10 this week.

Concurrently with race training, I'm participating in a Paleo leaning challenge at the gym, with the opportunity to win a significant amount of money. Everyone pays $30 to enter the challenge, then they take a 'before' picture (guys in shorts, gals in shorts + a sports bra) from the front, side, and back. We email in a food log each week for seven weeks and try to stick to the Paleo diet. Then at the end they take an 'after' picture and the trainers vote on who leaned out/lost the most fat. I'm very much appreciating how having to account for everything I eat helps me not to cheat or eat for the wrong reason, and how motivating $1000 winnings can be. The first week was hard but good, and I enjoyed the glowing skin and feeling like a rockstar at the gym that go along with cutting out sugar. The second week I was feeling pretty wiped out at work each day, with a perpetual mental fog, and one night kept waking up every 90 minutes. So (after talking to my mom who voiced some concern) I added up what I was eating each day, and realized I needed to take in about 500 more calories. Oops, thanks Mom.

I recently got my renewed passport in the mail, and I suddenly feel like the world is waiting for me :)  It's deliciously exciting.

Speaking of delicious, I ordered some of these Tanka bars from Amazon. Anyone looking for a tasty, meaty, low-carb, grass-fed buffalo treat, look no further. Seriously.

Modern miracles

I remember when I first got glasses, what feels like a million years ago. I had no idea how nearsighted I  was until I put those glasses on, and everything in the world came into focus. It was miraculous. Then came a decade and a half of contacts lenses and all the fun that comes with wearing them. Starting each day touching your eyeballs, not being able to go to bed until you take them out, the itchy discomfort during allergy season (which is perennial, in my case), and being incapacitated every time a stray eyelash makes its way into your eye. Let's not even talk about jalapeno peppers...

After several friends had great outcomes with Lasik surgery in recent years, I decided I was ready to join the eagle-eyed among us. I set aside some funds in a flexible spending account, scheduled the appropriate appointments, and thankfully found out I was a candidate. The weeks before my surgery, I tried to drink in the beauty around me, knowing there was a (very small) chance that something could go wrong and I might never see again. I spent some time looking at pictures of all my loved ones, not in a dramatic way, just acknowledging that there are always risks associated with surgery.

So, the procedure itself was very strange. They gave me a Valium in pre-op, after which I passed out for an hour. Then they woke me up, and I walked into the laser suite. I sat down in what looked like the chair you sit in at the dentist's office, fully reclined. They placed a big stuffed alligator on my abdomen, and told me to grab it if I felt the urge to move during the surgery. Then they wrapped a foil blanket around me. I asked if it was to stop me from catching on fire from the laser, and the nurse responded that it was an anti-lint blanket. I still think it was to stop me from catching on fire.

Then came the mildly uncomfortable parts of the procedure. If you're squeamish, just skip this paragraph. They put sticky drapes over my upper and lower eyelids, then put in a retractor to hold my eye open. Then numbing drops (thank you!). Next came a lot of pressure on my eyeball as they pressed some apparatus onto my eye, so hard that my vision blacked out. I could hear a buzzing noise, and I presume they were sawing into my cornea to make the flap. Then I could see again (sort of) and all I had to do was stare at the red and green lights while the laser made some clicking noises (did you know that lasers make a clicking noise? I did, because we use them in the O.R. but I bet not many people know that). The doctor put something onto my eye and brushed the flap back into place. Retractor out, drapes ripped off (which may have been the most painful part of the whole procedure), and then they did the other eye. The whole thing took about 20 minutes.

Then my eyes burned like the dickens. Think sand, srirracha, and glue rubbed into your eye. They led me into a dark room and tested my vision (20/10 baby!). I went home wearing some super cool plastic eye shields, ate some food, took the Vicodin they prescribed me, and slept for 12 hours. I woke up to a gloriously sunny day, with no eye pain and terrific vision. MIRACLE. My roommate took me to my post-op appointment where the doctor cleared me to go about normal activities (gym, running, etc) as long as put the prescribed drops in my eyes.

It was a truly beautiful weekend in Seattle. Springtime in full swing.

I took advantage of the beautiful weather and went for a long run (6+ miles) wearing a hydration belt for the first time ever. There was definitely an adjustment process. After a mile of the darn thing hiking up my back every 50 steps, I figured out that it worked much better for me with the water bottles in front (a tip for other pear-shaped runners who didn't already know this). My next step, besides just putting the miles in each week, is going to a nearby track and doing 'speedwork' or some such. I've got to be honest, I'm not really sure what that means, but that's why the internet exists right? I keep reading things about your race pace + 15 seconds, and realizing I don't have a race pace. So my plan is to go to the track, just pretend I'm in middle school gym class, and run around it faster than I normally run (with rest between laps). I'm not trying to break any records here.

To keep with the body-themed nature of this post, I had an alarming experience at the gym the other night. We were doing overhead squats, and the trainer was helping me because I said that it didn't feel like a very stable position in my shoulders. He told me to push my elbows forward to externally rotate the shoulder, which I did, and immediately realized that my left shoulder was stuck. Like, I cannot lower this (thankfully empty) barbell without damaging something in my shoulder. Trainer Mike took the barbell from me, and then I was able to lower my arm. He suggested I get my shoulder looked at because there's something going on. I'm pretty sure I have 'loose' shoulders because of that one time one of them partially popped out while I was sleeping. I'm also pretty sure that going to a sports medicine clinic is going to get me an expensive MRI and medical advice to stop going to Crossfit. So, I asked some of the ortho guys at work, who said I should look up rotator cuff strengthening exercises. Did anyone else in the family get these 'loose' shoulders besides me and Jeremy? Does anyone have any favorite rotator cuff strengthening exercises? How about hip flexor stretches? Please share. 

Thanks for stopping by!

Fear cuts deeper than swords

A few weeks ago I went skiing again with my roommate. It was actively snowing in the mountains, and there was a foot of fresh powder on the slopes. The drive took longer than usual, as there were several accidents on the way. But once we got there, I had the most fun snow skiing experience of my life. I attribute this to several things:

1) Lovely conditions- who knew a foot of powder would make such a soft, inviting cushion for falling down on?  And it's also much easier to control your descent on powder than on a slick crust of ice.
2) A small class (five) and a great ski instructor who had mastered the art of encouragement and pushing the limits. He knew when we were ready for a bigger run, and he knew what to say when we were paralyzed with fear at the top of that run (and after a big wipeout halfway down the run).
3) My own overcoming fear catchphrase (see the title of this post, which is from A Game of Thrones and reveals the depths of my nerdiness, but totally works as a mantra whilst doing something scary). Repeated to myself (quietly) this actually summoned up the courage which empowered me to careen down a mountain with confidence.
4) The noise that one of the girls in my group made whenever she started losing control or fell. I wish I had recorded it...like a cross between a donkey braying and Joey Lawrence's "Whoa!" circa 1994. It made me laugh so hard every time. I also laugh when I fall down or see someone else fall down...so I laughed a whole lot that day.

There is such a sense of accomplishment in doing something that scares you, and the resulting joy made me realize how much of my life I have spent avoiding the things that scare me. A lot of my fear revolves around what other people will think. If I take a risk and I fail, they'll think I'm pathetic. If I take a risk and succeed, they'll think that I think that I'm better than them. It's an utterly absurd way to live...if you can even call it living.

I've recently been learning a lot about risks and fear and shame and vulnerability after reading a book called Daring Greatly, by Brene Brown. The title comes from a speech by Teddy Roosevelt, and I will quote it here to entice you to read this book:  "It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while Daring Greatly..." Gives me goosebumps, every time. And grants me the perspective to overcome my fear of what other people are thinking.

Speaking of risks, I went and played broomball last night for the first time ever, and had a blast. In another life, I think I could have been wildly successful at field hockey :)  There was a somber intermission however, when one of the players fell on the ice and snapped his humerus. It was the second grossest injury I've ever seen (after my cousin Amy stepped in a ditch playing volleyball in Nana & Grandad's front yard and her knee bent 45 degrees in the wrong direction). Somebody asked, "Is anyone a doctor?" and I said, "I'm a nurse, and somebody needs to call 911." Limbs should not be floppy. They also usually don't break that easily. I guess I'm thankful it was an arm and not a head or spine. I wouldn't mind some more first responder training.

Two posts in a month, progress!

Wow, I am bad at updating this.

So, my New Year's resolution this year was to do something every week that I've never done before. Pretty sure I didn't even make it through January, but I have kept it in mind and feel like I'm being more adventurous and taking more risks (which is really what the resolution was about). 

My good friends Sharon and Fabio moved to southern California in October, and since I've missed them a lot and Seattle is kind of miserable in February, I planned a visit with them over a four day weekend. A couple of weeks ago, I flew into LAX, rented a car, and had a really wonderful time.

- It was my first time flying Virgin America, and it was quite an experience. Purple lounge style lighting when you walk onto the plane, outlets to plug in your electronics for every seat, and super hot pilots/flight attendants. 

- It was overcast with highs in the mid 50's on my first day. I drove up to Venice beach, grabbed lunch at Whole Foods, and ate at a questionable picnic table on the beach. Shivering, but enjoying the fresh air and being someplace new, I pondered what life would be like as a beach bum, living in the back of an ancient van, smoking pot at the beach, and congregating with the other bums. I don't think such a life would suit me.

- I drove to Sharon and Fabio's place in Thousand Oaks, where the sun was peeking through the clouds a bit more. My rented VW Passat felt like a Ferrari compared to my 97 Corolla, and I enjoyed speeding along the California highway Mario-Kart style. Actually putting my blinkers on to change lanes caused the drivers next to you to either speed up or slow down in order to prevent your getting over, so I quickly adapted to driving 'assertively' (in other states they might say 'recklessly' but when in Rome...) 

- My friend Sharon had just started a new job, leaving me with 4 hours to entertain myself on Friday. So I dropped her off, and headed up the coast to Ventura. I hit up some thrift stores, checked out the historic mission, and relished the sunshine and scenery.

-My lunch was amazing. Not sure if it was the salt/sea air or if I just found a great restaurant, but if anyone should ever find themselves in Ventura, you have to go to Lure Fish House.

-Best fish tacos I have ever eaten. Totally worth the pain of ingesting gluten (at least until the next day...)

-Thankfully, they had a flourless lava cake on the menu. Please appreciate how the taco hand smear on my camera lens lends an ethereal quality to the picture, truly reflecting how heavenly this dessert was.

- I walked down to the beach after lunch, and out onto the pier, which had all these interesting informational articles and pictures of people strolling on the pier at the turn of the century. I stopped to chat with a local man who had a cooler full of crabs that he'd caught, and a posse of seagulls that were supervising his endeavors. 

- I was totally freezing, but loved it anyway. 

- I could wax poetic about how majestic the ocean is, but it would be cheesy and on the internet forever, so I won't. But seeing the actual ocean made me realize that the Puget Sound, while lovely, is a pale imitation. And I though all kinds of deep, spiritual thoughts that would probably seem silly if I could remember and recount them here. I'll just say that it is restorative to my soul to stare at the ocean...which is why I took so many pictures of it :)

- After I picked Sharon up from work, we went and visited a friend of hers then took a walk on the beach. 

- Windy friends.

- On Saturday, Sharon and Fabio had to take care of some family stuff for a few hours, so I drove  down to Malibu (along an impossibly winding road with a speed limit of 25 mph...because I evidently took the wrong road through Topanga Canyon). I parked on the side of the road, and walked on the beach for an hour and a half. It actually got warm enough to take off my jacket and roll up my sleeves, and there were lots more deep thoughts as I walked. It was really fun to watch people surfing, but it made me wish I had a wetsuit so I could frolic in the waves, too. 

- I'm not really sure who lives up on the bluffs in Malibu, but I want to be one of them someday.

- Saturday night we drove into L.A. and met up with Sharon's friend Anthony in Hollywood. I wasn't super impressed with the chaotic, bright, dirty tourist-y madness of the area around the Dolby theater.  But then we walked to west Hollywood and had dinner at a great restaurant called Wood & Vine, and went to a record store called Amoeba that Fabio loves. It was a fun night, and as we were walking back   to our car I got to see the nightlife scene. To this midwestern girl turned Seattle-ite (which is even more casual than the midwest) it was crazy to see how dressed up people get to go out in L.A. Five-inch heels, impossibly short dresses, and impeccably coifed hair everywhere (even on the guys). It felt like I was in a movie. But since the culture there seems to place a ton of importance on the 'industry' (perhaps to validate their very existence), it makes sense. 

                          *                                           *                                       *

Taking this trip really made me want to do some travel nursing around the U.S.  I had such a good time being in a new city and exploring it, even when I was by myself. So, that's something I'll be thinking about more in the coming months.

Maybe I'm crazy, but a couple of weekends ago the weather was nice (i.e. it wasn't raining) and I ran around Lake Union on a whim, which is 6.2 miles, and it felt pretty good, and my thought on finishing was, "I bet I could run a half-marathon." So, on June 22nd, I will attempt to run 13.1 miles in the Rock n Roll Half-Marathon Seattle. I feel pretty good about it, and there's a group of runners at my gym who will be training for that race together who I can join for speed drills and long runs. 

Updates to come...

'Tis the season

I'm thankful for the end of the year. Reflecting on things past and looking ahead to things hoped for... is a welcome disruption in the spiral of too many baked goods, days that don't last nearly long enough, and the continual desire to wear sweatpants and be in my bed. As a kid, I never understood references to people hating the holidays (because who could ever hate this time of year with the prospect of snow days and piles of presents under a beautiful tree?). As an adult, I fully understand; although I'm trying to remain thankful, and resist the frenetic seasonal assault by advertisers and popular culture which tells me I'm not enough, I don't have enough, and I cannot possibly be content this holiday season without x, y, and z.

I'm thankful for all the wonderful memories I have of Christmas growing up; parents who loved me and were stable. For Christmas eve candlelight services, and fires in the fireplace, many years with family and friends and food and celebration, the year Jon surprised us by flying back from across the world, the year Jeremy brought his guitar and we sang carols in the living room, the time we all piled into Homer and went to see the St. Jovite house, playing rob your neighbor in Jeff and Amie's basement with a bunch of confused but excited kiddos :)  My Christmas nostalgia bank is filled to overflowing.

I'm also thankful for my life here in Seattle. For great roommates, past and present. For some amazing friends, who I can be my truest self with. For some wise counselors. For my crazy, wonderful, annoying work-family. For the church I get to freely be a part of. For a job that challenges me, and provides money so I can enjoy life and travel to people I love who are far away. For my gym, and trainers who make me look forward to going there and pushing myself harder. 

I think I just wrote myself out of the funk I've been in. It's amazing what a difference it makes dwelling on what you do have instead of what you don't have.

Speaking of funks, I bought a Happy Light. I'm skeptical, but people say they really help with mood and energy (and the sun is gone until July), so I will sit within 18 inches of this thing for 1-2 hours a day and see what happens. Updates to come...

I got to spend a few hours with these little lovelies on Thursday so their parents could go to a Christmas concert. As a single adult, it's fun to hang out with kids because you sort of get to be a kid again. For instance, I would never spontaneously play with play-dough, build a tower out of blocks, or run around the house in circles just for the fun of it. I recognize that if I had kids of my own, I would probably lack the energy to run around the house in circles. Thus the brilliance of "The Runaround Song" that my dad would put on. Did anyone (of my brothers) ever figure out/remember what song that was?

Oh yeah, some recent life lessons, for those of you who enjoy learning from the mistakes of others:

- Even though they are delicious in eggs, do not dice jalapeno peppers before you have put your contacts in. No matter how many times you wash your hands, you will end up putting what feels like a lava pellet directly onto your eyeball.

- Jello shots, even when festively colored red and green for a Christmas party, are not a good idea. You may want to smuggle the teacup Yorkie belonging to one of the party hostesses out of the party in your purse. You may also want to go to sleep on the bathroom floor, and wake up very cold with a 'dead arm.'

Leave your favorite Christmas memory in the comments!