The other side of the IronMAJ

And so I press on in my agnostic pilgrimage
Knowing I can swim deeper than the grim reaper
And ready for whatever sea creatures may abound
When the water swallows me and not the other way around . . .  .
Buck65

I wouldn't call myself agnostic, but the lyrics to this Buck65 song largely describe my attitude toward this part of my life.  It's all about how I got "here" from "there" and being ready for whatever mysteries await.

So.

The IronMAJ (and MAJ myself) is really like a coin.  All the bloggy world ever really sees is one side:  the training side.  Every now and then, I like to show the "everything else" side.  I'm not sure if this is "NOW" or  "THEN" but there're a lot to talk about that are not specifically related to racing or training.  I have alluded to "news" outside training, so today seems like a good day to break it down.

The nerves in my inner ear are excessively sensitive
 and my Eustachian tubes constantly feel "full,"
which cause ringing and fullness in my ears
daly and, less  frequently, severe dizziness that
causes nausea and falls. They think it might be
Meniere's disease.

As I've mentioned, I have several issues that cause me to get extremely dizzy (lots of fun while swimming) and sometimes fall (lots of fun while walking).  Some of the symptoms bother me every day, and some don't bother me for months.  It's hard to tell how to treat the "spells," because they could come from 1 of 4 separate conditions. I have migraine and vertigo medicine if I need it, but sleep is usually the best remedy.

So, I spent a lot of this weekend sleeping.

When I wasn't sleeping, I was thinking.


The IronMAJ is only one of the milestones I've been training for this year.  I'm also collecting my materials to apply to PhD programs.  It's going to cost me a small fortune and the rest of the year, but I've been occupied with planning for the past year as I have been involved in anywhere from 1-2 teaching assistantships and a few research assistantships every semester.   In the past few weeks, though, that activity level has escalated as I prepare for the approaching application deadlines.  I've narrowed down my choices to 5 of the top programs in my field.  I've agreed to be on the PR committee for my professional conference.  I'm working on my first "real" research proposal.  Outside of training, my days have been a blur of meetings with key players in my field, searches of possible references for my proposal.  Finally, I'm auditing a class I already took to brush up on my skills, and I'm studying to take the GRE again.

I almost feel like my body threw me for a spin to force me to spend a day doing nothing.

Of course, once I get in (fingers crossed) to a program, the hard work really begins.  Everything about my life, from my schedule to my salary and possibly even my city of residence, will change for the next 5 years.  Much of what I have done has prepared me for these changes, but it will still be a shock.

While I admit it does get overwhelming from time to time, this is the closest thing I've ever done to what I really want to do.  Most of my adult life I have wanted to earn my PhD so I can teach and do research.  The idea that I be able to do this for my job, is both foreign and welcome, as is the idea that finally doing it may actually provide a much-needed break in workload (as being a PhD student is only 1.5 full-time jobs, not 3).
Once the IronMAJ is done, there's a lot of work on the other side of the coin before 70.3 and crit training begin.  But I'm ready for whatever sea creatures may abound when the water swallows me and not the other way around.

Confession: I Finally Believe That Hard Work and Faith DO, Eventually, Pay Off

Here’s me, being dorky.

I post my latest race numbers in a corner of my desk at work.

I feel like I’m living in a dream. I can’t believe I’m actually doing work at THREE different colleges. Working in academia, especially doing research and teaching, is my lifelong dream. If you’d told me I’d have been doing ALL THREE, after everything that’s gone down, AND this soon after receiving my BA, I’d have laughed at you. I am so, so, so, so, SO immensely grateful for all that’s transpired for the past few years, even the bad.

HR vs RPE (EIEIO)

This morning I had a flipping fantastic run. I went out for about 30 minutes in a recovery-ish zone. My heart rate stayed between zones 2-3, as did my RPE. I was still super-slow, but this was supposed to be a recovery run. (SIDE NOTE: Since I go in later than he does, the B sleeps in extra late. This makes it nearly impossible for me to get up and out in the morning!!)

I replaced the battery in my chest strap transmitter. Instant difference! I’m also trying to blend my heart rate training with RPE training. I tend to push harder when I am using RPE training, but not hard enough when HR training. (If you followed me in 2008 when I used RPE almost exclusively, I did a LOT of PT with shin splints and calf cramps and IT band problems.) So, I’m using the general knowledge of heart rate to make sure I’m not going too hard in training, as well as to gauge improvement, but I’m following the RPE dictated by my training program to make sure I’m training at the proper intensity. (Part of that is because I signed up for the Beginner Triathlete plan that allows me coaching access for the next 6 months. It uses all RPE.)

Tri-ing On a Budget

It’s hard to Tri On a Budget. As you may know, the cost was a huge issue for me in past years, especially when I had a coach. I hated the cheap, fitness-mill gym; so I went back to the Y. But the Y isn’t cheap. So, to save money, I’ve started building up my weight collection at home and looking for a treadmill. I found a local pool that’s in awesome shape and has great prices . . . about 1/5 of the YMCA cost. (Actually, the B found it).

When I can, I put off buying new equipment. I try to buy last year’s running and cycling shoes, and I haven’t bought new tri clothes or cycling shoes in the past 2-3 years. But it was time for new shoes and a new outfit, so I gathered those over the past few weeks. (Now I have to teach myself to put the cleats on the new cycling shoes!) I also got new bungee laces since my aglets broke. (Speedlaces makes one called ibungee). I ordered a pair of new running shoes. (I hope they come in the purple.)

Now I can swim, bike indoors OR out, run, and strength train, WITH the advice of a coach, for less than $19 a month – so all I have to worry about is race fees. I’d like to thank The B for getting me back into triathlon by offering to pay for my “A” race for my birthday. (Ahem . . . B . . . sign me up before the race fills up! LOL)

Living the Dream

I don’t know what higher power you believe in, or if you believe in one at all, but I am firmly, eternally convinced that there is some order to the universe. (Please ask me to return to this entry when I get down in the future J ) There are a lot of lessons I’ve learned only through experience; all the advice in the world didn’t make a difference until I just struggled through it.

One of those lessons is that we all have drama. Some of us are more quiet about it; others take a BALLS OUT approach. Either way, I’ve learned that the more you dwell on your drama/demons, the more power you give them over your life.

People always used to tell me to just acknowledge them and move on; I never knew how to do that. The approach that makes the most sense to me is this: talk with a few select people about your troubles, issues, drama, demons, problems, etc. (Your therapist, your spouse, your parents, your mentor – whoever is the best at opening your eyes and enabling you to see past them). Find yourself a solution. If there is no solution, find yourself some acceptance.

Then DROP IT AND MOVE ON.

And by DROP it, I MEAN DROP IT. Don’t blog about it. Don’t Facebook about it. Don’t text about it )except to aforementioned spouse/parent/mentor). I don’t care WHAT you have to do, once you have found as much of a solution as you can find, do ANYTHING but FOCUS on it. Instead, find something else really absorbing and healthy to focus on. It will move you forward AND it will provide you with enough perspective to recover from it . . . eventually.

Eckhart Tolle put it best . . .

Wherever you are, be there totally.

If you find your here and now intolerable and it makes you unhappy,

you have three options:

remove yourself from the situation, change it, or accept it totally.

At My Wits' End

I'm up at 3am because I have a lot of things running around in my head and I can't settle in to sleep.

The first thing is work. As I've mentioned before, I love my job. We've been really busy lately, and I'm finally getting the hang of not stressing about it so much, of leaving work at work. But we also have a lot of new procedures, policies, etc. With a new group of people, it is frustrating some times - more for them than for me, because after a year at this company and several years' experiencein startup organizations, I'm used to changes and even welcome them. I always except things to come down the pipeline, but I'm not sure the others expect it. And I also don't want to be a bad leader. I want my example to be a strong example, since I've been there a longer time. That's hard because I'm not always sure what's expected of me outside of my exact job duties. I'm almost never late, I try to shave off any overtime I've got and I dress well. I also try not to be too social. But I'm not sure some times what else I'm right or wrong about. It's silly stuff like - eating at my desk? Giggling at jokes? What am I doing or not doing?

The second thing is my weight. I'm stalled at a 16-17 lb loss, not swinging back towards the lowest weight of a 17-19lb loss, because I'm eating everything in sight. I'm terrified that I'm going to backslide, and I'm not feeling svelte and in-control like I was, despite my "skinny" clothes still fitting, some better than before. This type of fear usually triggers my disordered eating behaviors, so I'm trying to be really careful to pay attention to my emotions and make sure I eat for hunger when I eat . . . not out of fear, bordeom, etc. But it's hard. Some times I'm genuinely, organically hungry and want two sugar cookies, or an extra serving at dinner. Do I punish myself for doing it, do I blame it on the bulimia, or do I just move on? And if I just move on, how do I stop worrying about gaining back? After all, I'm not working out thanks to my NEW injury in my RIGHT fucking leg.

The third thing is Kona. Besides being almost uncontrollable on his leash, he hasn't gotten down the hang of not pooping in the house. I have relegated him back to the bathroom until he gets on schedule - he outgrew the crate long ago and I know he is more comfortable there, but still won't poop. But now he is sitting in the bathroom crying just like he used to do in his crate - so loud and miserably that I cannot sleep. I've been fighting this with him since the HOLIDAYS. We have the same routine every morning: as soon as I wake up between 6 and 8, we go outside and potty. He comes upstairs with me and either plays or naps in my bedroom while I get ready for work. When I get dressed, we have walkies and he usually poops. If he doesn't poop, I come home for lunch and take him to poop. Some days I can't do this, but those days are the exception - not the rule. After work, I come home, we go potty. I either walk him for another poop, then feed him dinner, then walk him within a few hours for his last poop - or, after we tinkle, he comes in and eats, then we go on a long walk for two poops. Then he plays and hangs out with me and the cats, and we go for several more potties before I go to bed between 9 and 11. But some times he doesn't poop on our poop-walks, and he instead poops in the house when I'm not looking.

He is not allowed to sleep with me any more.

I'm at my wits' end. I can't get the house deoderized. I hate being here because it smells so bad to me. And the whole crying in the bathroom thing, combined with him knocking me down and hurting me, is really frustrating. I know it's not his fault that he is a needy, bizarre, spazzed-out puppy. I know he inherited a lot of it from me, and I know I haven't been a great "pack leader." But I have tried SO many things with him, and nothing seems to work. Every time he gets remotely trained, he backslides.

So I will have to get up in the morning and run by Wal-Mart for more of my pet stain and odor remover stuff. And hope I remember what spots I still need to treat, or I'm sure he'll go THERE, too. I'd run out right now, but I'm finally starting to fall back asleep. I guess I will head back that way and make like Scarlett O'Hara . . . worry about that tomorrow.

Ok, ok - when it rains, it pours - aka Let it Go Already!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, so . . . reading my blog last night . . . I realized how grumpy, bitter and angry I sound. (Wow, like that's anything new.) But I promise I'm really writing most of this with tongue in cheek.

Except for what follows. All of this was written with 100% gravity (yes, that's a complete disregard for grammatical correctness - no, I don't care).

Prologue . . .
I was about to launch into this really nice blog about how the flood damage on my wood floors wasn't really that bad and my phone wasn't completely broken, and how, despite that and the puppy's potentially pending surgery (yes, that's another complete disregard for grammatical correctness - and I still don't care) I was feeling refreshingly positive. Driving down the road on the way to work, I thought to myself: "This is really no big deal, because, regardless of anything I've been through, I still have my family and friends. And really, that's all that matters." {To paraphrase Tea, if they're not with you during the bad times, they're not friends - they're something else.}

Now, keep in mind, I HATE blogging about work. But I'm at the point where my giveadamn is broken, my giveashit is nonexistent, and my giveafuck is right behind them.


Rant, Part Uno
Yesterday I got an email from my former recruiter, in response to my request to re-recruit me, which was a very tasteful little email explaining that things were, just as I had expected, not a great fit at current company. I explained that my bosses did not know but that I wanted to start shopping around. (I figured I didn't need to lower my class or intelligence level by adding" . . . in case I have to go off on these m'f'ers and I accidentally get arrested on felony charges.") His response?

"I'm sorry things aren't what you expected. Have you talked to anyone about this?"

Ahem.

What part of "things are what I expected" and "no one knows" didn't you get, douchebag?!!??!

I'll recruit myself, thankyouveryfuckingmuch. And I almost wrote back and told him so. (Don't worry - I still have a modicum of self-restraint left.)


Rant, Part Deux . . .
I walked in this morning to find out that one of my poor co-workers has had no power since last night and was waiting for it to be turned back on so she could come in (also, her baby-sitter had no power and hadn't come over and her husband was at work, so she couldn't leave her baby alone). Now, during Charlie, Francis, Jean and Ivan (the sum of which caused me less damage than this single tropical f'ing storm has caused), we had power loss for days and weeks. But everyone I know came in late, or not at all, the first few days, because they all thought the condition was temporary. After that, everyone just came in - because, really, what else could they do? But this is the first major day of power loss, and this storm is much worse for the Northeast side of town than for anyone else. So, my other co-worker gives my late coworker's message to my VP of HR (or VB of CR, as I call her - and I'll let you try to figure out what the letters stand for.

Guess what the VB says?

Are you ready for this?

Are you sure?

........................................................

"I lost power last night, and I'm here."

Since when does losing power for a few minutes or even hours (in the wealthiest zip code in town, with some of the best-built homes, I might add) equate to being without it for almost a day? At the point of this call, the co-worker hadn't even gotten power back. VP appears to have done makeup and hair impeccably, which usually requires light, which usually requires power. And, even if that's not the case, doesn't this bitch remember what it's like to be in your 20s or 30s with kids?

HUMAN resources, my ass. As Tara remarked, though, most people in human resources are neither human nor resourceful.

Stick a fork in me, bitches. I'm done.

I Really SHOULD Have My Own TV Show

Back when I worked for the Golf Channel, a very important and seasoned senior exec used to tell me,"Meggan Ann, with all the nonsense that goes on in your life, you should have your own TV show. Friends and Seinfeld have nothing on you." (Gotta tell ya, given his experience, maaaaybe I shoulda paid attention there.) In any case, can you imagine that he said that to me *before* I even started filing the divorce paperwork? That oughta tell you somethin'.

I normally don't like to talk about work. I am the primary result for a good page or so if you Google certain combinations of my name - not telling which combinations, but let's just say you get everything from my LinkedIn and Naymz profiles to old blogs and Facebook and comments I've left on other peoples' MySpace pages. But, today's rant is all about insensitvity, and I couldn't complete it without bringing work into the picture, especially since my employer, regardless of who, has nearly always been a source of insensitivity. Particularly since I became ill.

Anyway, my entire office knows about my medical issues and recent loss, all the way up to the CEO. I have received a few encouraging words, but of course none of them know about the other turmoil in my life, so I can't totally blame them for not being more supportive. However, never once have I received encouragement or praise for only missing 1 day of work since then - instead I got comments like, "when I lost my 2, I just had to work through it." I continued showing up on days when I spend the morning (or day) fighting off tears and severe bronchitis at the same time, or when an entire bottle of naproxen wasn't enough to dull the ache - and the only snag my employer saw was an occasional day of 5-10 minute tardiness or a few moments lost when I was crying in the bathroom or receiving electronic support from friends because I'm SO CONSCIOUS that I DON'T EVEN TAKE THEIR PHONE CALLS during the day.

In fact, I'm not supposed to be lifting anything over 15 pounds or standing for long periods, but I've been assigned to packing and shipping 25-pound boxes of marketing supplies. Now, mind you, it's obvious that this hurts and exhausts me - my boss had to tape a box or two for me today because she saw me struggling to do so with any efficiency whatsoever. I've mentioned a few times, to different people - including my boss - that I'm not supposed to be engaging in such activities, but I keep doing it, however slowly. Then this morning I woke up in such pain that I can barely move. Pain caused by the packing/lifting? Unlikely. It is CERTAINLY, though, aggravated by the assignment. So, when 5pm comes, I'm over it. I ask our IT Guy, "Can you weigh these boxes for me?"

He is not known for his tact or warmth, so I should not be surprised when he repeats, "Weigh boxes?"

Taken aback, I stammer, "Well, yeah. I'm not supposed to lift anything over 15 pounds and these are almost double that."

IT Guy doesn't miss a beat. "What, did you hurt yourself or something?"

Did I hurt myself or something?

Blink blink.

"Well, I'm not supposed to be doing certain things for 3 weeks after ..."

He's silent.

I want to tell him, "Come fucking talk to me when you have a uterus, you nerdy, chauvenistic xenophobe." Instead, I burst into tears while taping the box and fly to the bathroom, where I remain safely locked for a good 5 minutes until the sobs subsided. (Ok, so what I REALLY thought was much, much harsher. But you get the picture.)

Taking another day off for myself? Good. Possible? No.

Strike 2 comes when I get home and hear that, just days before the event, exbo contacted his exgirl in an obvious attempt to rekindle things (something along the lines of "hey, sexy, it's been a long time"), apparently in anticipation of his dismissal from my life and the life of his unborn child.

One of these days, very, very soon, my newfound ability to stand up for myself is going to rear its ugly head. Until then, my truth is STILL stranger than fiction and I just have to grin'n'bear it. I'm going to Mom's in 2 days, so I should be able to hang in there. Tomorrow I pack; Thursday I take the puppy to my brother's; Friday I'm off. If I can't hang for two more days.......

Maybe I SHOULD have my own TV show.