The Warrior Dash

A theme in my general dissatisfaction with life centers on a lack of a sense of accomplishment. I married a great guy, graduated from college, took care of my college math requirement with my SAT score, got more scholarship money for my college than it cost two of my siblings to go to their college of choice, was captain of my high school's colorguard; I've become a professional-grade bellydancer in three years, making my own costume pieces; I can eat fresh veggies out of my garden any week of the year; I landed a generous job with a completely unrelated degree because of my voracious learning style on the job. But I have no sense of accomplishment. It feels like all those things I've done are things I should have done earlier or better (except for the marriage thing, but that's a love I fell into because my guardian angel pushed me.)

So, I need a victory to jump start things. I've decided that I'll be running the Warrior Dash when it comes near. What is the Warrior Dash?It's a 6k obstacle course. And by 'obstacle', I mean a field of junk cars that you have to scramble over or a 30' tall pyramid of round hay bales. I've given myself a generous (or at least realistic) amount of time to train, and I believe I'll have the training planned out within a week or so. I just hope the Warrior Dash weekend doesn't collide with the schedule for the yoga teacher training I'm planning on, which starts in the same month. It's possible, because they're yoga folks, that they would see what this victory represents in my life and would let me complete that weekend of training in the following term, or its possible that they would say any attachment I have to this competition is just causing me to suffer so I should sacrifice that attachment to my true path. But you know, either way I won't have to make that decision for a few months. Maybe the training will nudge my brain into a better place and my desire to have a single capstone victory experience will fade. Or maybe I need to decide to do something that happenstance hasn't guided me to, to see my own heart. I'll go with that theory for now, because 30-some years of happenstance just isn't working yet. (except for my Knight in Shining. And no, he won't be running with me.)

living the change

College promised me that doing the smart thing would set me up for happiness. I look at my dropout friends, and heck my cousin who was given a social graduation from high school, and I gotta say -- Liars! These folks have kids. Sure, they can't drop cash to replace the car when it slips a rod on the freeway, and they've never been to Disneyworld, but those seem small potatoes in comparison.

The most recent expression of "the smart thing" is what we're doing now: staying in Small City rather than potentially moving to Big City in the middle of Nowhere. The potential new boss was not forthcoming with enough information to let us decide for ourselves what kind of a lifestyle change this would be, and we figured out that dropping out before the offer was better for company politics than rejecting an insufficient offer, so here we are.

And where are we? Safe, in Small City, still dreaming and still risk adverse. But slightly more curious about our current ability, with no promotion, to change our lives. It's a good place to be in. It's a smart place to be in.

Now, if only my employer would decide they don't need as many of me, and give me a month or so of unemployment benefits so I could change my career. . .

I need to stop hoping for externals, and hope for courage, resolve, and valor. It's time to really be smart.

to go, or not to go

My Knight in Shining was told about a promotion opportunity at work that would take us far away from our comfy location here in Small City to a big city in the middle of nowhere where the cost of getting a comparable home would be more than 4x our current mortgage. As extra spice, there's almost a guarantee I would not be able to find comparable work because we are members of a marginalized race there, and because it's very much in the middle of nowhere and so expensive to live there, jobs are pretty much the most desirable commodity. Therefore they pay less, not more, than jobs here. In doing some research on things like cost of living and commute time and other basic quality of life questions, we discovered that things having to do with the natural world (hours of sunlight, climate, places to hike, etc) are wonderful, but the things having to do with people (economy, politics, traffic, etc) are . . . disgusting.
Basically if he were offered this and the promotion quadrupled his paycheck we'd be able to squeeze out something resembling our current lifestyle, and maybe in 5 years we'd be able to move back to a place with a more rational take on life and get on with the Big Plan of Kids. And in those five years I'd have sunshine support like I'd never had before, so the lack of garden or belly dance simultaneous with a lack of job might end up working in my favor. At least, it's a prospect I'm having a hard time ignoring now with winter setting in.
Would you trade in a pear tree in your front yard for an avocado tree in a large pot on a condominium deck? Hmmm. Will it actually get us closer to the goal? Ideally, we'd look at the salary they offer, notice that we could live on that in Big City, but decide to live that frugally here in Small City instead. I used to have frugal instincts. I need to find them again.

. . . is the only thing that matters

So, I was reading Hyperbole and a Half the other day, watching Allie recount a story of determination outweighing good sense in the very young, and I (as many of Allie's readers do) saw much of my adult self in her childhood. How many times do I fixate on something that's going to ruin the rest of my day? As an adult it's much worse -- not only should I know better, but usually the object of my fixation isn't even something with immediate gratification. It's not delicious cake with marshmallow animal sculptures, but it's the horrible, horrible fellow commuter who didn't use a turn signal to warn me I was about to be cut off. It's the fact that I slept in again rather than going to my yoga mat. It's the new facebook video game. I don't usually tolerate video games, but for some reason if you make it look like a medieval castle and imply I'm responsible for the well being of hundreds of nameless peasants, I'm liable to try it (and feel guilty if my peasants get raided later on when I inevitably abandon the game.)

So this week I'm trying something different. I'm taking a full break from the video game, I'm deliberately sleeping in and shifting my workout to after I get home from the office, and I'm re-opening this blog to the public. After all, there's a particular brand of complaint that you just can't share with people you know, and your only options are to hire a therapist or write a blog.

I make no pretensions that I will be posting regularly or interestingly. I will share my failures more often than my victories, and some day (when I get more victories) I'll open a completely unrelated blog and probably never tell anyone here about it. I am about to see if there is healing to be found in anonymity, and low expectations.

money isn't everything. . .

Yeah, well, neither is oxygen. Just because something isn't sufficient, doesn't mean it isn't necessary. You just have to figure out what's the best way to get it, and whether you're over-efforting the getting of it.
I could go after a master's degree. That should increase my ability to earn a salary on my own terms. But -- financially, temporally -- would it be worth it? Is there an even exchange there, or is there something other than advanced education that's holding me back the most?

My new mantra for the next few weeks is "it isn't supposed to be easy". I need to better acclimate myself to this one.

what do you believe

I've decided my calling is not to be employed full time outside the home. Really, I'm called to be a parent. There is no justification for the distraction of me working here, except for the mortgage and the cushy lifestyle we've desired and become accustomed to. And he and I have talked about it: if we had a kid, it would be financially irresponsible of me to quit. I'm not going to be an irresponsible parent, either, and I'm not going to pay a stranger to play peek-a-boo with my baby because I didn't figure out how to get this done right.

I hate spring. I can ignore this calling at other times of the year. But really, should I? I mean, my mom was right. I feel like crap in the springtime, and it's because I'm a married 33-year-old Catholic woman with no kids. In fact, deliberately medicating myself to keep from having kids. My life is wrong, fundamentally. And there's no easy way to make it right.

It's not supposed to be easy, is it?

flat on my face

Man, and I thought I was doing well. Nothing like a stomach flu to rip me away from the exercise and diet I've devised to keep me emotionally stable. So I was crying at mass on Easter Sunday (the 2nd time this month; at least I was able to keep it together enough to stick around this time), and again listening to "Defying Gravity" on the drive up to the in-laws. When it hurts, it hurts every time my spirit stirs, like it's trapped among broken glass. And I forget or ignore the things that sweep the glass away. I'm smart enough, at least, to recognize what's going on and not do anything stupidly drastic . . .
Wow, did I marry the right guy. I fell in love with him in the middle of an emotional identity crisis (to study abroad in Paris, or to stay and find out if he was the One?) -- he didn't freak out, and he never has. He reminds me how useful it is to think rationally, and that I *can* think even when my feel is so off.
I am sincerely looking forward to bellydancing tonight, and hoping for Silver Creek Falls this weekend. Gotta get out of this cage.

best layed plans

It's hard to stick to a plan if you don't actually develop one, evaluate progress, and fine tune it: that is, if you have little faith in the plan itself.
I've started studying for ACE certification as a personal trainer, and for now I discover that my best study time is my hour of driving. Unfortunately I have yet to find ACE specific study materials as an audio book. Since some of my friends are kicking around the idea of developing a podcast I think there will be high quality audio recording equipment in my future, so maybe I'll just read the ACE text I have into MP3s for my personal use. But where's the plan in that? A 'maybe', dependent on someone else's decision to branch out in an exciting new direction, is not a plan.

Just like my 'diet and exercise' plan. Because it's not based in any information I actually trust it's really easy to get derailed. How many carrots make a decent snack, and how many mean I'm filling up on carrots and need to get some other veggie, or some lentil soup, or some . . . ?

Which, of course, is the point of the ACE certification. Even if I never bring that all the way to a career change now, or after retirement in the distant future, I need to find something to base these plans on, and I need to make it mine.

office birthday

Birthdays call for cake, and when getting the office to celebrate one is like pulling teeth, birthdays call for GOOD cake. I'm grateful for a concrete way to support the indefatigable office cheerleader while her parents are introducing her to the amazing world of aged-ness. So pitching in to get the cake (that she normally would have) for our colleague turned out to be a gift to both of them.

It also lets me eat yummy birthday cake on my mom's birthday. While she's 6 hours up the highway, that and a phone call are the closest I'll get this year.

(there's a Lenten dispensation for birthdays, right?)

too sleepy today

I am so unquestionably tired this afternoon. Heck, I was tired this morning. I did only get about 6 hours sleep, and I don't drink coffee, but this is ridiculous. If I sit back my eyes close and I start to hear things (like the narcolepsy symptom.) How do I beat this back?

I skipped my nap at lunchtime today because of a late start out, I didn't stick with the food plan for today. Sure, I ate the first half of my lunch at 10, but this cold weather made the idea of a dry salad very unpalatable. On my way to the grocery store for some salad dressing (I should just get some next time we go to the store -- it'll be cheaper at the one we usually go to) I opted to visit Panda Express to give them another shot. "It's rainy and cold today," I thought' "I should have something warm for lunch." Never mind that this would be easily 3x the amount I needed, 2 hours before I needed it, and would completely bypass my nap. I'm paying for it now. The food was yummy, and the service was delightful -- I noticed a bit late the a la carte option -- and I needed some more chicken in the diet today. But, ugh. I shouldn't have dropped the plan like that.

So hear I am, an hour and a half away from an hour long drive, drinking lots of water, getting up to walk in circles in the office, and trying to understand my tech research (the SSIS transformation I should use for "look up a value; if no match, that's good") , and blogging instead because this keeps the fuzziness away.

I will get better.

George the Fish

It is so fun watching my betta fish explore his little world (I have him in a 1 gallon vase with a peace lily on top) after I refresh some of the water and groom the plant roots. Putting the lily back in re-arranges it, and conceals or reveals more of the top of the aquarium castle. He loves swimming through the roots, and made a habit of forcing his way through the roots quite frequently when I first assembled his home. The lily needs fewer roots to get what it needs from aquarium water, so this endeavor is no longer as athletic. I need to get an aquarium net soon -- some pieces of root fell off before I noticed to groom he plant, and they're just sitting there, decomposing. Which, I believe, takes O2 out of the water. Bettas know how to breathe air, so it's not dangerous for him, but it's something I should get done to keep things comfortable.

Friday morning came, that alarm went off, and I knew the one thing that made sense was to take a sick day before almost half of my co-workers went on spring break. That was a good decision. I had hives on Friday, which may have been a reaction to how much hand sanitizer I was using on Thursday, or may have been me finally developing a food allergy to walnuts in my oatmeal every day. I'm cutting out the walnuts to see if there's a change in my general energy level. In a month or so I should re-introduce them to see if the hives come back.
The weekend was particularly odd -- low energy, not able to execute a single plan. Except for the bellydance performance on Saturday night. The actual dancing was really good. (the transition between dances, not so much, but then again we didn't actually practice that.) I'm looking forward to the youtube recap.
The US house of representatives did something truly stupid last night. They started a new thread in US history with the passage of the "Universal Health Care Bill". Some of the states are determined to begin its reversal, to preserve a restricted role for the federal government in the lives of us citizens. I hope they can obtain a complete victory in court.

Gosh, the weather is crazy this month! There was frost to scrape, but now it's up to 60 deg. F or so. I am eager for something more stable . . .
On the up side, I've decided that I do have a cold; I'm just back to my "colds really don't bother me" state. I wonder if it has to do with how much more water I'm drinking than I did just a month or two ago. Or the fact that I let myself take a half-hour nap in the middle of the work day, hang the American tradition that napping is lazy. It's the best way I have to keep my energy up, and it has only good effects.
I received my sister's copy of the 1996 ACE personal trainer manual. Only the first chapter is on exercise science -- it also has chapters on motivation and ethics. I think I'll be able to pass the exam in one or two tries. Time to get studying.

Spring, no fever

This is either the highest functioning cold I've had since I worked in sanitation, or I developed allergies this week. My energy level is consonant with having a bed fellow who, being in the same sinus boat, has started snoring. I got about 5 continuous hours of sleep. I'll need to Spring Forward my traveling alarm clock just in case we get worse and I need to camp out on the couch for a couple nights, which is always discouraging -- I don't sleep as well there, and he thinks it's his fault. It's cute that he doesn't want to drive me out of bed because he's a snore-monster.

Ugh, sneeze! Not fun. Trying to catch up on sleep kept me from the yoga mat this morning, too.

Dancing happy

Last month I attended a really great, local belly dance conference, Reigning Down on Oregon http://www.freewebs.com/zephyrdance/reigningdownonoregon.htm . I've been a tribal bellydancer for about a year and a half, and this was the first set of workshops I attended. Shimmying for 3 days, for a dozen different teachers, made something just click -- my usual teacher says there's a difference in my performance and presence.
We'll see on Saturday. Our troupe is performing at our usual monthly coffee house gig, and several out-of-town dancers are coming. The bar will be set high! I get to pull out our new move, Honor Roll, named so because we made it up while our teacher was attending an academic celebration for her child.
Similarly, my knees and hips have begun to ask me exactly what it is I'm trying to do on Monday nights and one Saturday a month. Time to investigate their concern on the yoga mat . . .

shadow on the clouds

This morning's commute was blessed by an amazing sunrise -- consolation for living in a state that Springs Forward. The sun rose behind Mount Hood, and it cast a shadow on the high clouds that were magenta in the sunrise.

Shadows fall where they will, whether we expect them or not. I wasn't expecting one last (hopefully) depressive bout before spring really sets in with its warmth, sunshine, and outdoor exercise, but there I was bickering with my husband in front of friends and weeping at Mass. An 8-mile hike along deep ravines in my favorite state park later, and I'm feeling much better now.

The first thing that goes when this mood sets in is the desire to be vibrant and happy. If only I could detect and counter that, it wouldn't get this messy.

starting the garden

This past weekend I seeded in peas, lettuce, carrots, mustard, and radishes, taking up about 1/4 of the half barrels that serve as my raised beds. This weekend some more brassicas will join the mix (maybe some cabbage, but will save most of that seed for a winter crop; definitely some broccoli.) I'm really happy to start the new veggie garden, and am daydreaming of zucchini and tomato on the grill this summer.
I count my blessings that I garden in a maritime climate on the west coast, of North America, that my collards over-wintered and are delightfully frost-sweetened still. I don't think this will be the magical year that I get to eat something homegrown every day of the year (counting from May to May), but I don't doubt it will happen soon.

Cookies are calling my name . . .

So, here I am, waiting for my computer to find a file I saved three minutes ago, and my mind wanders to the chocolate chip cookies I made a while ago and stored in the freezer. If I store them in a normal cookie jar I eat too many, and that's just a sad thing. But on the day after a really cloudy, emotionally blue day I still have this inclination to self-destruct with food. I'm going to stave this one off for a few days before I decide it's just that I want a cookie, and it's OK for an adult to have a cookie every once in a while.

on the other side of the clouds

He, he -- so that's what I get for starting a blog on the cloudiest day in two weeks. To add to my intro, part of my life has been a very mild but persistent depression. Not deep enough to need medication, but enough to get me questioning the bigger decisions I've made on days when the sun doesn't shine, I don't swim, I don't watch my diet, or I don't keep up with my mental hygiene. Remember the scene in "Beautiful Mind" when the doc says, keeping sane and happy is like being on a diet? He's right. Then one day the effort of staying on the mental diet of good, productive thoughts is just too much, and you cry yourself to sleep, and the next day is much better. A new start.
Especially when I remember to bring upbeat music on my commute to work. Thank you, Monkees, for everything you did!

Good Morning

So, my first attempt at blogging should probably include an introduction of some sort. I'm too young to be having a mid-life crisis -- to happy to be having a crisis of any kind -- but at the same time I almost consistently find myself longing for one of the many less sensible options I bypassed several years ago.
So here I am, looking for insight and truth. . . and wondering if those are things we discover, or things we create?