The One About Enough is Enough

Well, as I suspected, I was not happy at all with the trail run.  In fact, I kind of hated it.  I was bummed because I did run with my bestie, Suki who as she promised, stayed attached to my bum the whole time.  And I was in the back by a lot.  I finished dead last which is not really a huge problem for me but it never really does anything to boost my ego.  In fact, if I really searched inwardly and really admitted to myself the yucky feeling I get when I know I am last, it just sucks.  I actually hate it.  I spend so much time telling everyone that I coach that there is no shame in finishing last.  I didn't really feel shame as much as just bummed and a little pissed.  Someone has to be last but why is it me - much of the time?
So what was it truly about the race?  Was it the rocks and leaves and roots - yes - looking at the dirt for an hour was not fun.  I couldn't spend any time looking around and enjoying the nature because I had to look at where I was going.  I also hated the uneven ground that caused my pinched meniscus and IT band to scream at me on several occasions. The most surprising thing was how much I didn't like the downhill.  I couldn't use the downhill to my benefit because I was actually scared of falling down.  I think that trail running is supposed to go slower than regular running but I guess that is a big part of it because I really don't want to work on something again that I am already epically slow at.  I just want to work on my marathon time.  Sure enough - the next day I ran 14 miles on the road and was soooooo much happier.  But I tried it and I had a nice long talk with Honey Bunny about it and he totally understood and wasn't mad and it's all good now.
One of the things that came out of the many talks that Honey Bunny and I have had over the last few days was that I have to be enough for me.  He said "You have to be enough for You."  We were talking about my family.  I can't possibly be the only person who links their family with insecurites.  Isn't that where it all begins?   As mentioned before in other posts, my family is not necessarily dysfunctional but we are a little fucked up in the relationship department.  I can definitely say that my parents love me.  I can definitely say that we have a pretty good relationship.  I can definitely say that my brother and I are not close and that is my parent's fault.  I also can say that I am not close with my family and that is my fault.  I am very different from the rest of my family.  Imagine being in a familial environment and not fitting in.  Whether it be politics or religion or social beliefs or ethical dilemmas or musical tastes or what to read or what to wear.  Or how you simply see the world and how you want to be seen in the world.  Just fundamentally a freak from your family.  From your parents, your sibling,  and all of their social support systems.  Imagine what happens when you constantly get the message that you are not quite right or you are not understood or you are somewhat of an enigma.  We all want to fit in.  We all want friends and we all want love and support.  I think I spent a huge amount of time trying to fit in with the people that I think should have just accepted me no matter what.  When I did finally truly rebel as an adult and moved in with Honey Bunny prior to a legal marital commitment, they kicked me out of the family.  So 18 years later, even though I have tried to really let that go, and forgive and just try to enjoy my family, resentment creeps into the crevices...especially at Christmas time.  I actually feel that I shouldn't have to spend time with my family on the day - I would rather spend it with good, close friends who have always loved and supported me.  They make me happy.  My family on the holidays drains me.  In order for me to be enough for me, I need to spend time with the ones that fulfill me, lift me up, make me laugh until I pee, give me mental hugs, will run trails with me, hold my hand, listen to me.  I am enough for them.
There is this child at little honey bunny's school and I think of him often and his parents.  He is obvious different.  And I mean different.  I believe that child, while born a male probably wishes he was born a girl.  He wears girls clothing to school and likes to hang out with the girls.  He has been this way since kindergarten and now he is in the 5th grade.  I believe his parents are struggling to find a balance between allowing this child to express himself and to keep it a little close to the vest because I am 100% sure that he is bullied and picked on.  I really hope that if he survives public school that he will grow to be someone that will change America and how we think.  I hope that he is strong enough to be whatever and whoever he wants and I hope he finds someone to love him enough.  I hope that his parents continue to have the strength to travel down what must seem like a black hole at times holding his hand and having his back the entire trip.  I hope that he is enough for him.

The One About Sure Footing

This Saturday I am running my very first trail run.  It is called the Froze Toes 4 miler and I am terrified.  Now, of course it is not the distance that makes me nervous, it is the fact that I will be running on uneven ground with roots and leaves and mud and steep hills.  I asked Honey Bunny yesterday how he thought I would do and he said it probably won't be my fastest run because I am just not comfortable with things where I don't have sure footing.  Um...well...duh!!!!
You see, I am pretty much a shuffler and a plodder.  I just shuffle along at what I like to call Sarey pace.  It works for me, I just keep going and trying to tell myself all along the way that I will get there at my own pace.  So the idea of using side steps and my hip flexors to pick up my feet and my eyes to look to avoid tripping is just numbingly painful to even consider.  So why am I doing this you ask?  Because I watched two trail runs change two people's lives this year.  My running partner Suki ran her first trail half and it was transcendental.  Honey Bunny ran his first full trail marathon and I couldn't believe how happy he was - and I mean RIGHT after his race.  No pain and he wasn't tired and he said he could keep going.  AFTER 26.2 MILES!  Who says that????  But I have resisted.  I have flat out said that I would NEVER run a trail race and I really meant it.  It's not for me I said.  I am a road girl - a city runner.  Not a nature lover, the trees, the roots, the dirt - Holy Crap that's just...YUCK!!!!!
I have realized though since I started running that you must put yourself out there for different things.  Just because you have accomplished the marathon doesn't mean that there aren't new things to try and go for and attempt.  The only way to know for sure is to try it.
I say that about so many things.  Nope - can't do it, it's just not me.  That counting calorie thing?  Nah.  That high protein diet - just can't do it.  That job - no, they will never take me.  Why would I put myself out there for that.

I have realized that much of this stems from low self esteem.  Now this is a phrase that really has been used so much and nobody really wants to talk about self esteem.  You either have it or you don't.  I think it is so funny to talk about it in the sense of levels.  It is low or high.  Does anyone have medium self esteem issues?  Shouldn't the doctor ask to take some blood so we can test your self esteem levels and see where they are?  But I am just going to say it and mean it.  I have low self esteem.  I don't think myself worthy of things.  And people.  And jobs.  And my life.  I don't think I can try new things.  I know I am good at some things.  I am a freaking fantastic running coach.  It is my calling...seriously.  I am also a really good cook.  I would like to think I am a good Mom but lately I have been struggling with that.  I also would like to think I am a good wife but also of late, I really find myself doubting that because I seem to be going through so much right now that Honey Bunny has been taking a mental beating.  I am a good writer and it brings me joy but I don't give it the attention it deserves because I am spending so much time figuring out what is going on with me.  And working out.  And trying a new diet.  Spinning my wheels seems to be the order of the day lately.  Is it the holidays?  Is it the time of year?  Is it menopause?  Is it my self esteem issue?
I think I will go run this race tomorrow and see.  I think some of these answers lie in the roots and leaves and mud.  I think I will be really proud of myself tomorrow.  I don't think it will be quite as life changing as it has been for other people but it might be a new start.  Or it might just confirm my suspicions about trail running.  But either way, it is going to be a beautiful day and I get to run with Honey Bunny and Suki and I get to face my fears and get four miles in.
My sure footing lies at home with Honey Bunny and little honey bunny.  They are it for me.  As long as I am sure with them - a few roots might just be good for me.  I'll let you know.

The One About Having Bionic Parts

I am torn lately between the zen of running in the Fall and dealing with the stress of having elderly parents that are starting to need care.  Not in the sense of disease, thank goodness, but just in the general demise of my parent's bodies.  My mother just recently underwent her second hip replacement.  My father, who is one year out of having a five inch rod put in his back with screws to hold together his spinal column is currently undergoing a procedure to repair a torn meniscus and getting cortisone injections to put off his first hip replacement.  It is really not fun to watch at all.  It is, as a matter of fact painful to be around them.
I just signed up for a marathon.  The first of what I hope to be a three marathon year.  I will be running Little Rock, Arkansas in early March.  So I have started training again and I must say that October in Richmond has never been better.  Full on foliage beauty.  It is a sight to behold the awesome colors and smells of a cool crisp fall running day with temperatures in the low 50's, lots of sunshine and low humidity.  It is truly a runners dream and when I have a bad run, I just don't care because any run on a day like this is sooooo much better than no run at all.  Today I put this idea to the test because instead of going for a run today, I went to see my parents.  My Mom has really no energy and has not gotten dressed in 14 days.  She refuses to take her pain medication so she is really suffering through the pain unnecessarily and she really lacks the discipline to do her exercises.  And I am talking flexing the foot, not squats.  She is still using her walker and has not gotten outside to walk except when her PT forces her.  Yet she is convinced that she can go on a trip in February that would involve tons of walking.  I, of course feel really bad for my Mom.  She is a tough person.  She is very lucky that she has lived this long with just hip replacements.  She has done some amazing things in her life - not one of them physical but that's o.k.  Or is it?  I think sometimes, I don't let her off the hook because she cannot push herself in any physical manner.  She just cannot do it.  I think I run marathons because I don't want to end up like my mother.  Yet, my Dad, who has been physical most of his life, is in the same condition - maybe worse.  Of course, his choice of physical exercise was golf - which I am sure one could argue that he was getting a workout - but you would have to really convince me.  I think that he always dreamed of doing lots of hiking and walking and fun active trips but Mom never wanted to do any of those things.
So my question to myself and to everyone out there is this...should I feel guilty for feeling so bad about my parents situation?  Is it wrong to be so depressed after visiting them and seeing them so feeble and old?  Is it wrong to really just not want to go back because it makes me so sad?  Am I the worst daughter ever?
I think that the best thing I can do is to go for a run.  I cannot change them, I can only take what I have from this experience and apply it to myself so that I don't end up in the same situation.  My running partner and I talk all the time about how we want to die.  At the finish line when they give us the medal.  A heart exploding after a marathon is fine by me.  Seems strange to some but that would really make me happy.  And, as I have observed from my parents, I would really like to go with all of my parts if I am so lucky.  My Dad always asks me - "How long you think those knees of yours are going to last with all that running?"  I always want to say - probably longer than yours old man. Not very respectful I know.  But you know as I was riding in the car with my Dad today he said something that reminded me of myself.  He said - you know, I would just like to go on a total health kick and see if I can get off all of my medications.  I was so impressed with him.  And my Mom, who has been overweight all of her life has lost 18 pounds this past year.  Without any physical exercise at all.  These two people are 71 years old.  And they are changing or at least trying to change their lives.  They have not given up on trying to be healthier.  Those two things make me think that we all have struggles, we all have demons.  Yet, we all have successes and we all have abilities to do better.  I have always wanted them to think of me as a hero - someone who inspires them and drives them to change their lives by watching me change mine.  It seems as if I have overlooked a couple of heroes of my own. It would seem that I learned what I needed to learn from them.  That my drive and desire to be healthier happens because of them, not in spite of them.

The One About the Boob Tube

Everyone has a doctor in him or her; we just have to help it in its work. The natural healing force within each one of us is the greatest force in getting well. Our food should be our medicine. Our medicine should be our food. But to eat when you are sick, is to feed your sickness.

Hippocrates

I think it's a very interesting idea that food should heal all illnesses.  In fact I think often that food is a direct link to health and wellness.  When I was pregnant with little honey bunny, I had gestational diabetes and was instantly thrown into a world of nutrition, calorie counting and carbohydrate controlled mayhem. Already interested in nutrition, I learned quite a bit about how food works in the body.  This was my first introduction into "preventable and lifestyle diseases".  Gestational Diabetes was not my fault.  My body produced a hormone in the placenta that blocked insulin production so I had to have some help until I gave birth.  However, this was the tip off that my body had the genetic predisposition to getting Type 11 Diabetes later in life.  Luckily, I have been able to fight off this horrid disease but the rest of the ailments that plague most people in their 40's on up have been knocking on my door for awhile and I have learned that the same rule applies.  Eat your veggies.  Simple as that.  We can eat to cure.  We can eat to live.  We can not only stop and prevent but actually halt and reverse disease by eating broccoli.  Think about that.  I mean really think about that...by eating a healthy plant based diet, you can get rid of high blood pressure.  You can remove plaque from your arterial walls.  You can unlock the magic keys in the pancreas that block insulin.  You can change your cellular structure to prevent certain types of cancer.  Really.  Really?  Yes Really.  Did you know that you can also get rid of sinus problems and acne and acid reflux and hot flashes and eczema?  Did you know that with a plant based diet you could save the environment and the health care crisis AND stave off impotency (in both men and women?)  

So what is the deal with not doing this?  Well I can tell you why it is hard for me.  It's hard for me because I spend way too much time thinking about food.  I have gone to the other side of the Hippocratic philosophy to the point where food is my addiction and instead of eating to live, I live to eat.  I live to eat all the wrong things.  I have an addiction.  And it is food.  Food used to nourish my soul and then it served as a friend and a lover and now it is really just a totally abusive spouse.  I never learned to use food as it should be used.  I fight almost daily doing it to my son.  It is a constant struggle to outwit, outplay and outlast my food cravings.  I have all of the red flags and tell tale signs of a personality disorder when it comes to food.  I crave potato chips and french fries when I start to feel anxious.  When I am sad or depressed, I start to go looking for ice cream and brownies.  When I am bored I want some kettle corn. When I am really pissed off, I want McDonald's.  When I am really happy, I want to go get a bunch of sushi and crab spring rolls.  And when I am feeling all of these I want to drink.  Lots and lots of wine.  Sometimes margaritas.  I look forward to all of the holidays so I can buy fun holiday cookie makings and special yummy breads and all kinds of fattening desserts.  It doesn't occur to me at this time to think of all of the awesome vegetables and fruit that will be in season or the incredibly fun activities that take place each season.  

Does it really just take a twist of the brain to start thinking like that?  Do you have to practice healthy habits of the mind, just like you have to practice everything else.  What if I worked daily on the practice of every time I thought of food, unless I was really hungry and it was time to eat, I forced myself to think of something else, more healthy or more spiritual or more funny or more touching?  

One of the things that works for me is to turn off the tv.  I have noticed that since I work from home, when I actually stay at home and don't venture to the library or to a coffee shop, I have to leave the tv on for some mindless company.  Well that mindless company most often turns into a distraction which puts me on the couch with some food and diet cokes and then that usually turns into an unplanned nap which then turns into fat assness.  So if I turn off the tv, I am acutely aware of going to the fridge and eating something that is not planned.  Somehow the tv gives me super invisible powers and I don't have to actually see or feel myself hitting the sectional with bags of crap in my hand.  The problem is, turning off the tv

So by changing one thing - maybe I have given the bad food a little less power and the veggies some time to do their work.  Maybe by instead of obsessing over every calorie I put in my mouth, by changing a behaviour I am taking more control over my addiction.  Maybe I can learn to eat to live instead of avoiding the fact that I am living to eat.  "To eat when you are sick is to feed your sickness."  Uh huh - got it.

The One About Not Eating Unicorns Anymore

I recently ran a race - the Army 10 Miler in Washington D.C.  It was a fantastic race.  I wasn't necessarily trained for this race but since I had signed up for it and it was very hard to get into and had filled up, I thought I would head up and do it.  I had an extremely awesome time doing the race.  I got to see Honey Bunny and Little honey bunny three times along the route.  The weather was great, it was a very gently rolling hill race (mostly flat), great and plenty of water stops, lots of runners around me - which is significant since I am in the back, and tons of inspiration to draw from - like the teams of army soldiers who had no or just one leg and they were completing the race.  So, I figured that I would just not put any pressure on myself and try my best to enjoy the race.  I thought that this would be my last race, even though I had signed up for two half marathons in the Fall, I really needed to take a break from what seemed like my worst training season ever.  Two half marathons in record slow times were not inspiring me to work harder.  It seemed as if I just needed to take some time to work on other things, like losing weight and  gaining strength.  So I just wanted to kick back and see how much of the race I could run.  I was very proud to say that I ran 99% of the race - the hardest part was from mile 8 1/2 to 9.  It was over a very boring uphill bridge and it was really, really warm at this point and we were very exposed to the elements so at that point, it got a little discouraging but overall, I was pretty happy with how much I had run of that race.  I spent the better part of the week basking in my post race glory and thought that for me - the time was pretty good.  Until I looked up my results for the Charlottesville 10 miler which I ran in March at what I thought was my highest weight ever.  I actually completed that race 5 minutes faster than this race.  And that race had at least 5 giant hills.  I couldn't believe it.  I was stunned and spent a good part of the day moping and undoing my glory bask because I actually ended a training season heavier and slower than I started.  What the FUCK?????  What a giant disappointment!  After this and of course the news earlier in the month that I needed blood pressure medication, do I still try to turn my life around?  No of course not.  I take a stab at it here and there...eat a fruit, a veggie, run a little. But do I count calories?  No.  Do I go totally vegan?  No.  Do I follow the Furman plan?  Nope.  Do I stop eating crap and drinking tons of wine?  Not even a little.  So what is a girl to do?  Give up?  Seriously, do I just give up on nickel and diming this thing to death?  I've always wanted to do something radical.  Like becoming a hard core vegan or a yogi or a meditating, brushing, juicing, raw foodie, purist.  Honey Bunny and I were at dinner last night where I was enjoying a nice ribeye sandwich with blue cheese aioli and he paid me one of the nicest compliments ever.  He said, one of the things that he totally loves about me is that I am really open to most things.  While some people are scared of what they see as the alternative, and thinking outside of the box is very intimidating - to me, there is no other way of life.  I like to think of myself as someone that can do this.  So why do I hesitate so much?  Not so much because it's hard.  And make no mistake, it is hard.  Not many restaurants serve vegan food and let's face it - all that cheese and yogurt and sour cream and lump crabmeat and london

I am looking for the support.  I will start with my own self awareness and my own self confidence and when that wanes, I will look to Honey Bunny most immediately because he is definitely a huge source of support.  After that goes, I will look to a few famous people like Alicia Silverstone and Brendan Brazier and Kris Carr for some quick inspiring thoughts.  I want to shake up this little bit of suburbia that I am living in - look out...here comes the vegan!!!!

The One About the 50 Miler

So I need a big goal.  A really big goal.  The reason I need a really big goal is because I typically use my really big goals to avoid the most immediate, important and should really be working on goals.  I usually feel that if I can work on a really big goal, the more important goals will either solve themselves or go away or at the very least, I will feel that those immediate goals are not nearly as important as my really big goal.  I think this might be similar to the definition of insanity which I keep coming back to, pretty often as it turns out.  Doing the same thing over and over again but expecting a different result.  I ran 3 marathons that way.  The fourth one, I finally did the miles and the hard work and voila- shaved 30 minutes off of my time.  I was still injured and not showing any significant weight loss but I did at the very least, work really hard on getting my miles in.
What is the really big goal?  What are the most immediate goals?  Well, I'll tell you.  The really big goal is that I want to run a 50 mile race. A real, authentic endurance run.  One with trails and rivers and rocks and some bad ass ratings.  The immediate goals are not nearly so exciting or sexy.  In fact, they are downright unsexy.  I need to lower my blood pressure by quite a bit and I need to reduce my waist circumference by at least 10 inches.  God how middle age is that?  I am fast approaching my 44th birthday (which gives me only one year left to qualify for Boston, which means that in a year, I may have to rename my blog:/) and for those of you that don't know I have already gone through menopause. I completed my long ass fertility journey three years ago.  Yes that's young and yes it was a surprise and yes it was a complete bummer.  But alas, I have made some peace with it or at least I thought I had until I  went to the minute clinic at CVS to have my blood drawn by a skinny ass nurse practitioner.  She was totally nice and supportive during the whole procedure.  Of course I did this to avoid going to my regular Doctor.  I knew my numbers would be a total disaster but I needed to know and I needed to know immediately because I had been putting it off.  I decided that I should go with the urge to know so in a valiant effort on my part to start managing what I measured, I boldly went in to have my finger pricked.  So I was totally suprised at some of the information.  I am going to share some totally personal information so that in order to get it all out there, I never, ever, ever have to say these numbers again and I become somewhat accountable to you.
Cholesterol:  198 - HDL 66, LDL 132, Tryglicerides, 53
Blood Pressure :  154/98
Resting Heart Rate - 49
Glucose - 78
Waist Circumference - 41
Weight - 196
Height - 5'4
BMI - 36 - obese

The glucose and the cholesterol were fine.  She would like to see the LDL under 100 but was not totally unhappy with the overall number.  The triglicerides were really good and she thought that was a direct link to my running.  My blood pressure totally sucks and that rate has put me in Stage 1 Hypertension which means I need medication.  My resting heart rate is that of an elite athlete (yeah) and I couldn't improve that any more if I tried.  My glucose was great which makes me extremely happy considering I had gestational diabetes and would do almost anything to avoid taking insulin ever again.  My waist measurement was devastating and I knew that my stomach was pushing maximum density (at times I felt my gut was pushing out past my enormous boobs!) but I still can recall my awesomely slim and svelte 27 inch waist of yore.  My BMI is not a suprise to me, nor was my weight, albeit not something I have wanted to deal with at all - shocking I know.  I have been in the obese BMI range for many many years now - even when I was 25 pounds less than I am now, the range on that thing is not very forgiving and I need to weigh what I weighed before I was married to get into the healthy range.

So what was really depressing to me though and downright scary was the blood pressure.  She urged my to call my doctor and start medication right away.   Not just because of the threat of a massive coronary event or because I could stroke out at any minute (although definitely a possibility for me) but because of the organ damage I am doing from carrying too much pressure in my veins. She also told me this was a direct result of menopause (also, my waist measurement was menopausal). I begged her for two months. Two months to lower the number and to whittle away at my waist which is a direct link to my blood pressure.  I absolutely must lower these two numbers.  10 inches, 20 pounds and ten points on my blood pressure at least.  No ifs ands or buts.  Those are the numbers that need to be seen by Thanksgiving.
So I came home and immediately looked up endurance runs.  I searched all day for my next big race.  The one that would set me on my goals.  I can't do an endurance run being all fat and out of shape.  Those people have great BMI's and blood pressures.  But here's the rub - you can do those things fat.  It's hard but I have done four marathons while sitting in the obese BMI range.
The endurance race is not going to get me there.  So I signed up for Weight Watchers.  I have given into the fact that I must be write down every single thing I eat.  I need to count calories.  I need to weigh and measure my food.  I am 100% interested in nutrition and fuel and veggies and veganism and micro nutrients and phyto nutrients and sustainable, organic farming and all those things.  But really what I need to be interested in is how many calories am I putting in my body and how many calories am I burning every single day.  I need to be all biggest loser, not ultra marathon woman right now.  I cannot look at the next big deal in order to forego the hard work.  I cannot maintain this denial about how I look and now how my body is reacting to my weight.  I must do the work.  I must relish the process and I must throw my heart and soul into it.  I have said this before and now I must say it again, I must be relentless in my pursuit of health.  If I don't, I will just be a middle aged, post menopausal, obese, blood pressure medicine taking marathoner.  That's not good enough for me.  But I still will be signing up for that race in Georgia for next October!

The One About The Ship Hitting The Sand

I have been reading this book called One Day by David Nicholls.  I love this book.  For one thing the style in which it is written in lends a bit of mystery and suspense to an otherwise somewhat predictable story.  The other reason I like it so much is because it takes place starting in 1986.  I graduated from high school in 1986 so I truly can appreciate some of the social references.  There is a quote from the book that has resonated with me in the last few weeks.  "The trick of it, she told herself, is to be courageous and bold and make a difference.   Not change the world exactly, just the bit around you.  Go out there with your double-first, your passion and your new Smith Corona electric typewriter and work hard at...something.  Change lives through art maybe. Write beautifully.  Cherish your friends, stay true to your principles, live passionately and fully and well.  Experience new things.  Love and be loved if at all possible.  Eat sensibly.  Stuff like that."
So here I am, with my sort of not so new Mac laptop, hanging out at my in-laws in south western Virginia, sharing some of my passion.  I have been thinking a lot this summer about my state of happiness or lack there of.  I usually don't enjoy summer.  Little honey bunny is out of school and we do not send him to too many camps.  1)because he really doesn't like them and 2) because they are crazy expensive and we chose this year to have a really great vacation at the end of summer.  So while I am totally crazy about little honey bunny, he makes me totally crazy by the end of the summer like most other parents.  We have way too much togetherness and I have way too little alone time.  Tack on a business that is now up and running successfully which allows me to work from home (yeah) and my own marathon training and then throw in the slight problem that this is Honey Bunny's busiest time and we usually don't see him until middle August and he has is own training - well - I could use a drink!!!
So I don't blog in the summer at all.  I just don't have the time and by the end of summer, I day dream all day long about what I would actually say if given the five minutes to think and clear my head.
Instead of vomiting all of what has been rattling inside my head, I'll just give you a piece.  For some of my friends, the ship has truly hit the sand.  Their marriages and lives seem to be falling apart.  Of course, this makes me really sad but what I really have noticed while I observe the wreckage around me is that most people seem to be walking around in a constant state of grim reaper mode.  Have you ever been to a party of event and gotten a hold of someone who is just so negative?  I mean, really you would think that the sun is not going to come up tomorrow if you hang around these people much longer.  We all know this person or even collective persons.  You are picturing them right now.  So think about this...did you ever think that the grim reaper might be you?  Do you ever stop to think that you are the person sucking all of the air out of the room or your friendships, or your marriage?  I think I might have been.  One tiny event over the phone the other day kick started this line of thinking for me.  A friend who is going through a nasty situation with her marriage said to me that now that the desire for divorce is out in the open, she feels no compunction whatsoever to save it and feels suddenly lighter and freer and is feeling very positive about her new life that is about to happen.  My natural reaction was kind of a bitter - well goodie-goodie for you, but deep down I just wanted to ask her why can't you feel like this in your current life?  I am seeing this right now in three different marriages.  They just are ready to move on and dump the crap that they see as holding them back and suffocating them and move on to something new and exciting.
Naturally, I see this as an opportunity to examine my own life and my own marriage and how I see the world.  I look to see how I can not be so judgemental but supportive.  How do I help my friends even when I think they are full of crap and just plain wrong.  I can't really be happy for my friends because I find this very sad and disappointing and (I know the world does not revolve around me and I know this is EXTREMELY selfish) I am really just totally bummed that I feel like I am losing my friends because I  am not sure how to navigate these particular waters.  The most surprising thing that came out of this was first, this urgent need to blog again, and second, my own grim reaper behavior.  I too, suddenly and surprisingly, like my friend, felt free.  Free and unburdened and suddenly...happy.  When you are mired down in the crap of life, and I know there is a ton of crap...  Mortgages, children, hubbies, in-laws, aging parents, politics, wars, social nuances, feeling alone, weight loss, disease prevention and fighting, job loss, blah blah blah...or you are mired down in someone else'sthings do not make you happy.  You are the only one that can do that.  But here is the kicker that most people do not acknowledge.  You have to do the work to make yourself happy.  Everyone has the right to be happy but more importantly, everyone is not given the automatic happy gene.  You have the right and the ability and the responsibility to do the work that it takes to be happy.  Your husband deserves it, your children deserve it and by golly - you deserve it.  You just might find that it keeps those grim reapers at bay, inside and out.