Attitude Adjustments and Easter Hoppiness

One of my various jobs exposes me to people during some of their toughest times.  In my experience, the most common reaction to hardship is surrender. When life gets tough, most people give up and run when they could make the choice to dig in and fight.  I'm no stranger

to hardship, but I usually don't run away.

However, I've had plenty of struggles with my attitude. 

Like Wednesday.

The new blood pressure medication I'm trying is a diuretic (it always amuses me that doctors have you try on new medications like you're trying on shoes).  So, now that I've been on it about two weeks .  .  . it dehydrated me. 

I'm not going to make excuses for myself.  Yeah, I'm on medicine.  Yeah, I'm tired.  Yeah, it was rough; it made me really sick, and it hurt.  I ended up needing a rescue, and I was queasy for hours afterwards.  And, I was slower than I have been in months. If someone hadn't come back for me I don't know what I would have done. I wouldn't have quit, but I may have ridden home at 10mph.

Now here's the part I'm not proud of, and the point of telling you this: I let it really upset me. 

But, what I failed to make a few people understand was this: it wasn't the slowness that upset me. If I rode at 15mph for 30 miles but felt AWESOME I wouldn't have cared.  If I rode for 50 miles at 22mph but felt HORRIBLE I would have hated it.  I do a good job of gutting it out through tough workouts and pushing through pain, so the low speed was just an indication of how tough it really was.

More than that, it was because I have been on the "let's-try-this-drug" roller coaster before.  It  It was like being instantly transported back to the bad ol' days.  And I've worked WAY too hard to leave those behind.

So I cried. 

Like a little bitch.

Even though my brain said

HTFU ALREADY

and

THERE'S NO CRYING IN CYCLING

I cried anyway. 

Part of it is because I've felt SO good for SO long now that I forgot what it was like to feel bad.  I foolishly attributed my newfound strength and confidence to my fitness level - when, in reality, an equal amount of it can be attributed to hard work and luck that none of my medical issues flared up.

I've come a long way, but I deal with the same demons. In this case, it's a combination of giving myself a break and being realistic.  The two are related; we all have bad days, but I can't always expect myself to have the same performance as those who don't have medical issues.  And, regardless of what anyone battles, not every workout can be perfect. Logically, I know this; emotionally, I have some work to do.

Coach Julia gave me a Come to Jesus speech, which I needed. In it, she asked me this: what if your Wednesday was not a setback but something put in your path to set you up for the next big breakthrough?

We all need an attitude adjustment from time to time . . . Wednesday was mine.

I always celebrate Easter with a workout. So, this morning I drove an hour each way to Clermont, to ride some of the highest hills in Florida (paradox, huh?) I churned out only a 15 mile per hour average (despite careening down some of these suckers at 40mph) (yes,40), but I was way happier with that than with any of my 17-20mph averages.  Why? Because I coasted - not rode, not climbed, not struggled, coasted - over some of my most difficult inclines - hills that I once nearly had to walk a bike UP - and I tackled not just the steepest grade I ever tackled (5 years ago), but 3 of them, back to back.

I have no problem turning obstacles into opportunities; where I still need work is the little stumble in between. My goal is to someday take a bad day, bad news, feeling ill, etc. and progress straight to the opportunity without needing to stop in the middle and be a whiny-ass crybaby about it.

Someday starts NOW.

Truthfully . . . . (that shouldn't shock anyone, right?)

I'm sick and I should be sleeping, but I'm too heartsick to pass out. See, it's been a year since I got divorced, 6 months since I dumped Tony, and I've been dating a guy. And I thought that there was a real possibility this was The Guy. Like, more than any other guy I've ever known. There are some other details I won't disclose to protect innocent parties (including him), because I just Don't Roll Like That, but I'm not scared to say that I was seriously falling for him.

Anyway, I narrowed down my whole stable of dudes to date this guy. He seemed like everything I wanted. We were taking it beautifully slow: after a month of dating, we were still "courting" despite seeing each other nearly every day. He was smart, tall, funny, just the right amount of nerdy, sweet, cooked me dinner all the time, took good care of me and blew my mind all the way around. He knew everything about my rough past and seemed completely capable of handling it.

And then the shit went down.

One particulalry lovely night together, he interrupted our embrace to take a call from his best female friend. He went into another room, had a hushed conversation with her, and came out to announce he was going out with her the next night. He blew off my concerns that next night, ignored my text messages and stayed out so late with her he was 1.75 hrs late to work the next day. After a heated conversation, during which I managed to convince him just WHY this would make me feel insecure about our fledgling romance, he then almost blew me off AGAIN - not for her, but for something else. We had a great talk about it, seemed to reach an understanding and went out the next night and had an even more amazing time.

The next day, he not only threatened to stand me up for a Super Bowl party where he was going to meet some of my friends (please note: I've already met all of his), he then spent the entire party sitting in a chair texting someone. To make matters worse? It was the same female friend.

I am emotional. I am mushy. I was thinking this guy had The One potential. I cried. And he didn't do much to make me feel better, despite me crying off all my makeup in front of him. He told me it wasn't my fault, and that he knew things were rough, but that this friend of his was having a tough time and needed him. His explanation of her problems? About 1/16 of mine. As we all know, I'm the poster child for problems. I explained that to him, and how I was right in front of him and could use his support too. He responded that he didn't want to talk about it any more. And I snapped back that he obviously wasn't as patient as he claimed.

And that's the last time we talked. My next text to him, a peace offering of sorts, to try to get things ironed out one way or the other - his responses were now curt, 1 or 2 words. Finally he agrees to talk. But he wants me to wait until it's good for HIM. By the way, he's now suddenly going out of town for the weekend - the weekend he knew I was doing my next marathon, I might add - and can only talk to me before then. On a night that's good for him. When I ask him to spare me the suspense and just tell me what's going on? He is going to do some kind of house chore and can't talk. And then he ignores my texts altogether.

Because a house chore is ALWAYS more important than sparing the heart of a girl about whom you claim to care.

Then, several hours later, his response is still that he will talk to me in two days. After I openly admitted I was worried about his answer to my question regarding the nature of the outcome.

And that tells me all I need to know. So here's my plan . . .

1. Don't let anyone rent negative space in your head (thanks Nuk)
2. Get mad, get tough, get it done (you know who you are)
3. Have a kick-ass marathon that's guaranteed to be better than Philly because my sinusitis isn't full blown, I'm going to eat more, I don't have so many health problems and I'm better-trained, know how to pull long races out of my ass and I JUST PLAIN KICK ASS
4. Rock the hell out of the new, smaller-sized clothing I'm wearing
5. Try not to cry myself to sleep over him
6. Enjoy myself
7. Finish my financial crap
8. Go back to school
9. Potentially meet a MUCH more deserving guy

I think that sounds like a plan to me.

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.