Gonna Fly Now

I started thinking about yesterday and how down I was. Since my marriage ended, I've felt so defeated and frustrated about . . . everything. I was really pissed that I put in all this hard work and effort just to get where I am - and where I am doesn't seem so far from where I started. (Never once did I stop and remind myself that my recent nearly 2-month hiatus from training wasn't really my own doing.) And I keep thinking about three things: two things other people have told me, and one thing I subconsciously told myself.

The people, of course, are Tea and Able. I know I've said this before, but for some reason I can always identify with what Tea and Able have to say. They have become, to steal Tea's words, like sisters to me. It's tough to explain, but there is something about their outlook that reminds me of a much more mature, stable version of my own. Tea is always funny and comforting. She's able to turn my funniest quips into something even more amusing, or my worst moments profound. Able is the voice of reason - without coming right out and giving me the bitch-slap I some times deserve, she has the ability to make me face the reality of my own thoughts and situation without ever making me feel judged or rejected. Many of the thoughts I've half-assedly left on Tea's blog or emailed Able have turned into some of my most thoughtful blog entries.

When I read the things I've written over the past year, I can some times hear Able's voice (well, her e-voice, anyway) telling me (paraphrased) "Okay, peach - you've rehashed this a million times. You've gone over and over and over everything bad that's happened to you. It's done, it happened, move on." And, at moments like last night, I've gone back, over and over, to the very first blog of Tea's that I ever read. The title of that blog was Get Mad, Get Tough, Get it Done. To me, both of these thoughts lead to the same place: when you're upset about something, you have two options. You can pine and opine, whine and rewind, and dig yourself into a ditch of self-pity and depression and frustration. Those are human emotions, right? We all feel them at some point. The problem is not when we feel them, but when we positively revel in them. And that's what I've been doing - diving into them like they were a cozy, miserable, pillow-topped bed, covering myself with layers of tears and mounds of self-doubt. Good. Fine. It's okayt to do it for a little while. But, at some point, I always get mad about it. And instead of letting the anger make me bitter, like I have a tendency to do, I should be letting it make me strong - strong enough to climb out of bed and take control of things in my life.

There's no one who can change my situation but me, right?

Remember how I said the old me was really annoying? You know, with all my positive, motivational bullshit? If I can do it, anyone can do it. Just because I am not ordinary does not mean I cannot be extraordinary. No one can change my situation but me. When the going gets tough, the tough get going. Well, I take it back. It wasn't annoying - it was necessary. And that leads me to the third thing - the one I told myself.

When money got really tight, which was way earlier than I was willing to admit (denial is not just a river in Egypt, ok?), I had to stop coloring my hair and cutting it so often. When it started to grow out, I realized my own hair color, while not edgy and sassy and cute like the salon version, was pretty damn nice. (I'm still not sold on the length, but I digress.) Somewhere in the back of my mind, I told myself: "Turn this unfortunate situation into a positive one." So something inspired me to hack off all the color and grow it out for locks of love. I knew I'd save about 3 or 4 years of coloring costs and my need for cuts would be literally halved. In the end, someone will benefit even more than me. So that's what I did. I took an unfortunate situation and turned it into a positive one.

Able advised me about 6 months ago to simplify my life, to pare it down to just the things that made a comfortable existence possible. Well, training - and positive thinking - are two things I simply cannot be comfortable without. For one thing, training helps my body image: I may be fat, but at least I can be fit. For another thing, it helps me focus on all aspects of my life. And that makes me more positive, without even thinking about it.

I'm choosing to take this unfortunate set of circumstances and make them positive. I'm thinking of all of this as a chance to start fresh. To change my approach. To be better than I ever was before. Honestly, how many people can you truly say got a second chance at anything in life?

Not many.

I've been seeing this all wrong. I'm not less fortunate than most. I'm more fortunate.

This morning I went out for hill repeats: 2.4 miles, 28:49 minutes. Not my best run, not my worst - would have been faster if I hadn't stopped for a few walks to get my HR down. It was hotter than a motherfucker, or I would have gone longer. But it's a great start. And I have a 1.5-hour bootcamp-like power-yoga class at 4:30. So, either way, I'm getting two workouts in today. Next week, I'm on the road to Miami, Man.

Maybe seeing Wubsy do so well brought out my inner competitor. Maybe I realized that all the inspirational crap I used to spout was not just crap, but how I really felt. Either way, I've gotten through the first half of the day feeling like an absolute champ. For the first time in months, I can not only see the light at the end of the tunnel (as the Brit told me recently), but I'm finally convinced that it is not an oncoming train. (And, hell, if it is, maybe I can catch a ride and get through this rough patch quicker.)

Expect great things out of me in the months to come.

Because I do.