Identifying with Jonah

These last few weeks have shown me that I have more in common Jonah than I ever believed.

My time volunteering with a religious order in Chicago this last summer showed me that I needed to revisit the possibility of having a religious vocation.  I started to work hard at the vocation process--prayer, listening to God, researching and contacting various orders, letting myself be open to wherever the process leads.  Then, I began to get information back from various orders, and most of them were/are cloistered orders or no's because of my age and my food allergies.  While the idea of being hidden in God appeals to me, the idea that this is where God might be calling me scares me. Aside from feeling not worthy of such a calling, I'm also worried about pursuing something that really isn't what God has for me in the first place.

Another issue is whether pursuing a religious vocation is a way for me to run away: from romantic relationships, from responsibility, from life.  I don't really know that is the case, but it is always possible...how does one know??? I think at least part of this fear comes from having never really fallen in love with another human being, not even my ex.  I sometimes wonder if I even have the capacity for the kind of love a woman should have for a spouse--I have more emotion toward my digdog than to other people most days.  Most vocation stories talk about falling in love with Jesus.  If I don't have that capacity for humans, how could I ever make the leap of doing so to God?

And, in the process of all this questioning, I've had a bit of a knee jerk reaction...Praying the liturgy of the hours fell by the wayside first.  If I quit praying, I didn't have to worry about God confirming or denying where He wanted me. Then, I got sick this semester--colds really do suck, but don't necessarily require missing my hours of Adoration, even if they are in the middle of the night.  I either skipped or got substitutes anyway.  And then, I ended up missing Mass--which acted as a bit of a wake-up call to what was happening.  I've gone to confession since then, but I'm at a loss of how to get beyond the fear I have.  I don't really want God to send a whale to swallow me whole, but my fear (maybe stark raving terror is a better description) is still there.  I don't know that I have enough courage to confront this head on.

I'm not sure that I really WANT to know where God wants me anymore, which really means that any discerning is at a standstill.  I realize that my recent actions are much like a 4 year old shoving his/her fingers in her ears and yelling, "I'm not listening" repeatedly.  It doesn't mean that my awareness of this behavior gives me an idea of how to get beyond the impulse. Just because I want to surrender to God's will doesn't mean that I know how to go about it.  Neither do I want to continue my mini-tantrum.

Maybe I need that whale after all.

Settling in

So, I have now been in Central TX for a little over 2 weeks, and I'm finally getting settled into the area, although I still use my GPS whenever I want to find something.  Even so, I have found the nearest (nice) laundromat, the nearest Starbucks, how to get to work and home, and the nearest grocery store.  I've also found a really good home parish.  This is their website, and I'm really enjoying the worship, the community, and look forward to getting more involved.  In fact, I have committed to teaching CCD for the 6th grade boys class, so I'm going to need some extra prayers!  It doesn't start for another week and a half, so I will be able to spend some time getting prepared. :-D

The truck as it was originally packed for our trip here. we had to re-do the tarp at the Sunland park exit since it kept coming off.

I'm also in the process of working on my classes: I have seven this semester, so I will be incredibly busy during the week.  I should actually be working on my Argumentation and Debate class right about now, but I'm being a bit of a bum at the moment.  At this point, it is late enough that it will have to wait until tomorrow evening or during my office hours.  I will also be going to the bank and the post office during lunch.  I don't get to start riding my bike regularly to work until Wednesday, it looks like.  I can live with that, but I really want to get into and stay in the habit.

This is the truck after the redo.  It still billowed, but not as bad.  We made it all the way to Ft. Stockton, although the tarp was in tatters.  We had to buy a new one the next day.

I'm not sure what the digdog thinks about all this, although she is much less skittish than she was when we first started packing and then unpacking...she isn't sticking to my side like a limpet anymore, but she still prefers to stay pretty close.  I think that she is worried that I'm going to go away again like I did when I went to Spain.  At the same time, she is really liking the new yard, and she and my niece's dog have been having fun running around in it.  My favorite part about our yard is that there are 2 trees close enough that I will be able to hang a hammock from them come next spring.  I suspect that it will become one of my favorite places to read, assuming that the mosquitoes aren't terrible.  I may need to take out stock in Citronella candles...

The local running store.  I haven't gone there yet when they are open, but I'm hoping that I can find a running group through them.  

 One of the nicest parts about my new job is that I have an office all to myself--no more cubicle-like desk space.  Because of that, I've gone a little overboard in decorating it.  I have even bought a plant, in spite of the fact that I have the black thumb of death.  I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I can actually keep it alive for the duration.  From what I've read online and from my friends, it is actually a low-maintenance plant.

My office.  I even bought curtains!

My plant.  The mini-posters behind it are from Zen Pencils, and are all quotes by Emerson.

And, today, I unpacked my last box.  I'm officially all settled in, and I'm really thankful for that.  That means that I actually have a place to work from home, as well as that it is restful enough that I will actually be able to focus.  While I was a slob about keeping my room clean growing up, I've found that having a tidy space to work actually helps to keep a person focused.  I still need to do something about an office chair, since my ball doesn't seem to be keeping it's air.  I'm using our one folding chair at the moment, but it isn't very comfortable.  Since I've had my exercise ball for 4 years, it is probably time and past time to replace it.

My wall.  These are dance cards from the late 20's from various high school and college dances, a hat from the 30's-40's, and a fan from the same era.  

My bed.  Fat Cat likes having a clean room, too!

I still have a blank wall in my room, but I'm not sure what to put on that particular wall yet.  I'm hoping that I can find a nice print of art at some point in the near future.  Some of my wall hangings were put in my office, and there were a couple that I had to get rid of because they got damaged in the move.  It is kind of nice, though, as it means I can add to my repertoire of pictures.  I may see if I can find a nice Picasso print, since he is probably one of my favorite artists. 

But the thing is that this city and our apartment is becoming home.  I miss my family, but this was a good move for me, and I look forward to putting down roots.  Next thing you know it, I'm going to start sounding like a Texan with a drawl and everything!

The Run is Dead. Long Live the Run.

Me on the last day that I (semi)successfully ran.  I've made attempts since then, but none got past about a mile

I love running.  I love the euphoria from working my muscles hard, the sweat as it cools from a self-made breeze, and the way I can eat because I've burned over 500 calories that day.  I love the way it clears out the cobwebs in my cranium, and how it helps me to untie the knots in my thinking and feelings.  I love the ability to call myself a runner...something that I never thought I could say about myself!

And, because I'm just a little too stubborn and a little too competitive, I have not been able to run since the beginning of March (I pushed myself too hard at the half-marathon in Feb. because I wanted to beat my time from my half-maration in January--which re-injured my tendons).  After resting for close to 8 weeks, I finally realized that I wasn't getting better.  So, I went to the Orthopedic Surgeon, and then scheduled an MRI.  The diagnosis: partial thickness tears in the Peroneal tendons of both feet.

What I have...

It means that I will not be running any time soon, and I will probably need surgery to fix it.  My appointment with the foot specialist is on June 10th, and we will see what happens from there.  I'm really missing running, and am having a hard time finding exercises that don't use these particular tendons, but I'm also willing to do whatever it takes to work up to being able to run again.  At the same time, I realize that I will likely never be able to run a full marathon, and I'm actually ok with that.  I'd rather be able to be a middle distance runner than not a runner at all.

If I can't run, at least I can spend time with friends at Chihuahuas baseball games!

In the process, God is teaching me patience and, while I don't like the lesson, I'm pretty sure that I need it.  I've always known that I am not the most patient of people, and I even prayed for patience for most of my high school years.  Then I realized that "tribulation worketh patience" and stopped at the first real lesson God gave me....not because I suddenly became a paragon of patience, but because the lesson was just too painful.  Either someone is praying that I acquire a little more of this virtue, or God has decided to answer the prayers I prayed way back in high school.  Either way, learning to wait and to dial back my exercise has required that I develop a measure of grace for myself, whether I want to or not.  Now that my body has gotten accustomed to moving on a regular basis, this enforced inactivity makes me feel antsy and out of sorts.  I've found that bicycling doesn't hurt as long as I rest a sufficient number of days between exercise, but it isn't the same thing.  All I have to say is that, the Lord willing, I will be back pounding the pavement someday.  I'm willing to put in the work if it means that I can run another half marathon.  Until then, I wait and I pray.  And that is a blessing all its own.

The benefits of having a treadmill, or why I have running on the brain.

Me at the finish line to the El Paso Half-Marathon this past Sunday. My official time was 3:12:07.99, which is 19 min and 17 seconds slower than last year.  My shirt says, "Forget the glass slipper. This princess wears running shoes."

Last night at about 11pm, I realized something rather disturbing, and it was that I have running on the brain.  I came to this conclusion when I had been laying in bed for close to 2 hours, and still wide awake.  At that moment, I started thinking, "hmm. I wonder if going for a quick run will help me to get to sleep.  Maybe pounding the pavement will help me to relax my brain enough to quiet my thoughts, and then I will finally be able to drop off."  I even got out of bed long enough to think about the logistics of running at that time of night:

1. Find sports bra
2. Put on running clothes
3. Tape feet
4. Put on shoes
5. Find some sort of light to run by
6. Think of route that would be safe at this time of night
7. Remember house key...

I even thought that Ginger might be egging me on, because she kept getting in my face like she was expecting me to play with her--I obviously wasn't asleep.  After standing in the middle of my room for about 5 minutes of indecision, I crawled back into bed, mainly because I don't have a light that I could run by.  At that moment, I realized that treadmills have a valid place in the grand scheme of things--had I had a treadmill, I seriously would have run for a few miles.

I have to admit, though, that I have a hate-hate relationship with treadmills.  I can run around a track with impunity, and run on a road/local running trail for hours.  And this is in spite of the fact that I often will go out and back several times to get the mileage that I need.  But, put me on a treadmill, and all of a sudden, I feel like this:

Treadmills seem to have copied the same concept for human consumption...

Or maybe like this:

Look at 1:37 of this clip to understand... (on a side note, I really like this movie, especially the Georgio Moroder version which was set to classic rock).

I can run 5-6 miles easy when I am running on the road, but when I step on a treadmill, I end up struggling to finish just one mile!  On top of that, treadmills act like clothes hangers for me--they accumulate clean clothing on their arms and other horizontal spaces, and eventually, they look something like this:

Yes, I owned a treadmill once.  I decided that more hangers used up less space.

So, I'm probably not going to run out and buy a treadmill any time soon.  However, I am planning on buying a head lamp with my next paycheck on the off chance that I get the notion to go running at 11 pm some other night.  Come to think of it, I may just create a bundle of running clothes in one of my drawers so that it is easy to find everything on another night of chronic insomnia.  I need to try it at least once, just to see if it will really help me sleep!

Listening to Silence

Before I went on my Camino, music was an integral part of my running routine.  I was always looking for that next song that would motivate me, help me keep my pace, and to be perfect for singing along to.  The idea of running without music sapped a lot of the joy from the idea of running.

My Compostela.  It is now in a frame, but I have yet to figure out where I'm going to hang it.  Part of me thinks it belongs in my bedroom, and part of me wants to bring it to work and hang it over my desk.

Then, I walked the Camino, and I spent 21 days in the quiet of my surroundings.  I learned to still my thoughts as I walked, and I found that having nothing on in the background was a blessing.  So often, we fill our surroundings with noise--sometimes so that we can drown out other sounds/noises, and sometimes so that we don't have to deal with the internal dialog.  When I am working, I actually prefer to work in silence, but because I work in a lab setting, I usually listen to music in order to block out the distractions of conversations, etc., going on around me.  It is why I like working in a corner where people don't always see me.  In doing so, I'm able to cut even more distractions around me.

My ear-buds--they are made to stay, even while running, and I love them! It doesn't hurt that they are purple, either!

When I first got back, I would turn on my music because I thought I had to in order to use my iPod Nano to record my run, then I would tuck my ear-buds into the strap of my bra.  It meant that I couldn't check my distance easily mid-run (my nano tells me through my ear-buds), but it allowed me to run with no music.  Instead, I could listen to the cadence of my feet, the crunch of the leaves, the flow of traffic, and the ebb and flow of my own thoughts.  Then I found a new setting--there is a "No Music" option!  So, now I run with at least one ear-bud in, but most of the time, there is no music playing.

This can be problematic when I am running with friends, as I tend to be more chatty without music playing, but the quiet is just another layer to the joy I find in running, especially when it is just me, Ginger, and the road.

As you can see, this is the standard response when we are about to go running, and it is heartbreaking when I have to go without her.  I'm convinced that she is mad at me for the rest of the day if I leave her behind.

When I am silent, I also find that I am attuned to things that I might otherwise miss.  Earlier this week, when I noticed that the plum trees outside my office were beginning to bloom, I also noticed that the local bee population had also found the blossoms.  Close to the tree, you could hear their buzzing, and I would have missed that if I hadn't been quiet both physically and internally. 

A bee visiting one of the plum trees near my office

Come Sunday, I will be running a repeat of the race that was my very first half marathon, and I'm of two minds about whether to listen to music or to run in the quiet.  I'm already looking forward to our footfalls on the pavement sounding like the sound of a hard rain hitting the roof, and the blessing of once again pitting myself against 13.1 miles.  I'm not expecting any major insights, but I also know that, when I listen to the silence, God will often whisper to me in that space.  It is when I let noise for the sake of noise creep in that I lose focus and balance.  I think that is also why many cloistered religious orders have some sort of rule about being silent for at least part of the day.  It carves out space where God can whisper to them.  May we all carve out spaces for silence in our lives, and may we listen to that silence.  Who knows?  Maybe the Lord is just waiting to speak!

This post is in response to the weekly writing challenge at http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/17/the-sound-of-silence/#more-69294 .  Go there to find out more, and/or add to the conversation!

On Running

Sunrise from my Porch on Jan 31st.

There are very few things that will get me out of bed early enough to see the sunrise from my front porch, and the prospect of running a race is one of them.  It is funny, because I've always had a love/hate relationship with exercise: In college, I knew that I had to trick myself into exercising, or it wouldn't happen. Since that time, as long as it isn't more than 3 flights of stairs, I refuse to take the elevator; I try to park so that I can get more walking in; And I am constantly trying to figure out other ways to add exercise to my life. I needed something that is a better motivator than, "I need to be in better shape and I'd like to lose X pounds."

A picture from the road trip to Sedona.  It is much more fun when you can laugh and talk the miles away!

That's the thing--since I have begun running, I have gained 15 lbs, not lost any.  Mostly, I suspect that it is because I tend to give myself permission to eat more calories than I have burned.  As an inveterate snacker, this is one of my (many) Achilles heels, and I have begun working on fixing this by monitoring my calories again.  I hate calorie counting, but it is the only reliable way that I know of to keep track of how much I'm eating.  I'm thinking that banning between meal snacks will be a good Lenten discipline for me this year.  I'm also working on cutting out how many times I go to Starbucks, but that is ongoing.

All of us before the race.  I don't know who of us crossed the finish line first, but I was the last to finish.

I don't know that I've ever had a runner's high, either.  At the same time, running is its own motivation for me in ways that other exercise isn't--it clears my mind and I just feel incredibly refreshed after a 3-6 mile run.  It is like the little bit of speed that I can muster blows away the mental cobwebs and I begin to think more clearly about those things that I have been gnawing on.  It must be all of those glorious endorphins that one secretes while running.  My scientific friends would say that this happens with all exercise, but it sure doesn't feel like it!

Just past the half-way point.  Still feeling pretty good at this point!

All of us after the race. My chip time was 3:20:37. I'm hoping to shave at least 10 minutes off of that for the El Paso half.

So, after my adventure in Sedona, I am 1 half-marathon down for the year with at least 5 more scheduled for the year.  I likely won't see another sunrise again until I get up for another race, but that's ok.  I get to sleep a little bit later, and then spend evenings with family and friends.  As a night owl, the fact that  I live close to a trail that I can run safely in the dark is one of the best things about where I currently live.  Having friends who run with me, even if I am the turtle of the group is just cake.  It still blows my mind that it is no longer a chore to run more than 3 miles at a time, but that longer runs feel normal.

My friend Karin on our early morning hike the next morning before we started for home.  Another glorious sunrise!

Maybe someday, other forms of exercise will feel as wonderful as going for a run does.  If not, then at least I have learned to like one exercise enough to embrace the sport and make it a part of my lifestyle.  It only takes one, right?

Goals vs. Resolutions

Several of my colleagues are avid soccer fans.  In fact, at least two of them are planning to go to the World Cup this coming year, and everything World Cup is a normal topic of conversation in the break room.  Since I began working here, I have learned more about soccer than I ever knew before, even from my host brother in Germany. Our student workers has gotten into the act as well, but they have taken it a step further and have created a tournament based on the FIFA video game, and dragooned some of my colleagues into it, in spite of the fact that they don't know how to play the game!

This is the game that everyone is playing at work.

Of course, since I still don't know very much about soccer, except that there is a huge inter-office rivalry between those who root for Mexico and those that root for the US soccer team, this post about a more serious type of goal (not that soccer fans don't take their goals very seriously...), specifically where I want to go from here.

When I started this blog almost a year ago, I stated my goals as follows:

I plan to chronicle my journey, both spiritually and physically here, so that my friends and family can join this journey with me.  While on pilgrimage, I plan to blog whenever I can find internet access, so there will be pictures and narrative as I walk.  In the meantime, I will talk about all of the planning I do, as well as any and all spiritual insights as the Lord gives them to me....

I am contemplating the possibility of entering religious life.... Since this is also part of my personal pilgrimage, I will talk about things as they develop.... Jesus said, "Ask and it will be given unto you, seek and you will find, knock and it will be opened unto you." (Matthew 7:7)  So, I plan for this year to be my year of asking, seeking and knocking.  Will you join me on the pilgrimage?

 So, really, my goal was to make it here:

The Cathedral in Santiago as the moon rose behind it.

and here:

Yep, this is an inside look at an actual human heart (image taken from Wikipedia), although my looking was more metaphorical!

I know that I made it to the first, and I started to get glimpses into the second, but the journey isn't done--I don't think any of us quit walking in pilgrimage until we stop breathing, even if the physical journey is over with. I'm just not sure what is next.  Of course, none of us know what the future holds, although many of us begin to think about the coming year and make "resolutions" about next year as it looms on the horizon.  I don't like resolutions because they are usually either: 1. too vague--"I'm going to get in shape this year!" 2. too drastic--"I'm going to quit my 3 pack a day smoking habit this year!" or 3. too frivolous--"I'm going to eat cheese puffs at every meal this year!" for us to stick to them.  

That is why I'm thinking in terms of goals rather than resolutions this year. I've been thinking a lot about questions like, "When I think about me 12 months from now, what do I want to see that is different?  What would I like to strengthen within myself?  What habits do I want to cultivate?  What habits do I want to get rid of? How do I plan to get from here to there?"  That last question is key--without an action plan, nothing will change--it is the key weakness of most resolutions! 

At the same time, I am one of those people who tend to fail at keeping resolutions because my goal is too lofty/drastic. One year, I decided that I wanted to run a marathon, so, Jan 1st saw my couch potato self running 4 miles with predictable results--I had wrenched my knee by the second week of January, and lost the will keep trying by the time my knee healed enough to begin running again.  Running a marathon is still on my bucket list, but I now know that you can't go from no miles to 4 miles immediately and expect to do so injury free. My motto for this coming year:

LOW AND SLOW!!!

I'd like to add some specific goals that follows the above motto, but I'm just really not sure what those will be yet.  I do know that I want to make exercise something that is a natural part of my day...something that I do without thinking about.  I also know that I'd like to get back in the habit of several spiritual disciplines that used to be part of my routine: Adoration, saying my Rosary, daily Mass, etc. They were my bedrock of survival in the last years of my marriage, so I know that getting out of the habit was at least partly because of relief.  And yet, it is also no excuse to neglect my relationship with God because I no longer have emotional trauma in my life on a daily basis. I'd also like to be better at keeping my house clean, and I want to break the habit of being late all the time.  I want to be out of debt, and hope to make a major dent in that over this coming year as well. I want to write here at least once a week. I want to become fluent in Spanish.  I want to finish my novel. I want to finally run that marathon. 

If I were to take on all of these from the beginning of the new year, I know that I would give up long before Ash Wednesday, so I will likely choose one habit and work on that for January.  Then, I will add one more in February or March, and so on. If I chip away at it, then I can get all of these goals done for this coming year, but it also means a lot of discipline--something that I seem to be in short supply of right now.  I know that this is my own fault, because I have been listening to the negative voices in my head. Without the above spiritual disciplines to underpin my resistance to the dialog in my head, I tend to succumb to the despair and depression that those voices engender.  One of my Camino friends, Jillian, calls those voices the fear monster, and actually named hers George!  Check out the above link to see her comic strip about her interactions with her fear monster.  She makes some valid points about what those voices do to us, as well as how it affects our relationships with one another.  

Really,  if I were to be honest with myself, that needs to be my main goal this coming year--conquer the pessimistic voice in my head that tells me that I'm not good enough, smart enough, or worthy enough to be, do, accept, etc. I don't want it to be a fake kind of affirmation, like the Stuart Smalley Skits on Saturday Night, Live, though.

 

What I'd really like is to continue to build upon the healing that has happened in my heart so that I have a firm foundation for whatever God has for me in the future.  That way, when I sit here and look back on next year, I can be like all of the soccer fans I'm surrounded by at work: "GOOOOAAAAALLLL!!!"

Applause

I woke up this morning with this song, Lady Gaga's Applause, stuck in my head (the preceding link is to the lyrics only).  You can see the official video below, but it is pretty explicit, so it isn't good for little ones.

Anyway, I first heard this song because one of my colleagues likes to turn up his volume really loud and then lay his headphones on his desk rather than wear them on his ears.  It is a catchy song, and I think it points to something that all of us crave: affirmation.  We all want to be liked, to be cheered on.  But, earlier this week, someone on my Facebook feed posted this response to this article in the Wall Street Journal about how annoying it is to see people with 13.1 or 26.2 stickers on their cars.  I used to have a 13.1 sticker on my car, and will probably put one on my car again at some point.  Why?  Because I'm proud of the fact that I have finished a half marathon, and because I hope to finish several more before the end of 2014 (at least 4 and maybe 5, in fact).

There is also a pitfall to this craving for affirmation, and it is one that both the original article and the video for the song point to: when we live for the applause rather than for ourselves, it leads us further and further away from who we are (note that Lady Gaga has several moments in the video where she looks almost deranged--living for applause is making her crazy!). Applause in our culture is very fickle, and unless I continually talk up my own achievements or conform to the most recent fad, it is also very fleeting.

It is so very easy to fall into the trap of constantly seeking affirmation.  I've actually been trying to refrain from posting about my exercising/races on Facebook because my nephew once tagged a post #humblebrag.  His tag had the sting of truth, and that little response was enough to make me think more about what and why I'm posting on Facebook, or even here.  Am I writing because I want to see more traffic on my blog, because I want to see who is "like"-ing my posts, or because I really have something to say?  I'm not immune to doing the same thing in person either, though.  To my chagrin, I worked that I had run a race before coming to dinner on Thanksgiving day into the conversation.  It was entirely unnecessary to even mention it unless I wanted my family to ooh and aah over my discipline, and I should have kept my mouth shut.

Ginger and me at the Turkey Trot.  I couldn't resist adding a picture...

Like the Bible says,

“[But] take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them; otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father. When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win the praise of others. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right is doing, so that your alms-giving may be secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you. When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners so that others may see them. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you." --Matt 6: 1-6 (NAB)

It's not like I expect God to reward me for running, although He does all the time through the sheer joy of it. It's also not like my running times are anything to really brag about.  I get done faster than the people that are walking these races, but just barely! I know that some would say that I'm still lapping the people who are still on the couch, but is rubbing my new-found active lifestyle a valid way to motivate them to join me?  I don't think so. The principle of the above verses is still valid--If "I live for the applause" as Lady Gaga sings, I'm doing it wrong.

Instead, I want to have more of the attitude of this song, Katy Perry's Roar (The above video is more cute than racy, so it should be safe to watch around kids as far as I can tell).  It is the difference between saying, "look what I did." and *shrugs* "Of course I did. I'm a runner."  I'm still working on transitioning from the first to the second, and I'm sure that I will have the occasional slip up like what happened on Thanksgiving. I guess it's hard not to brag when something is so integral to my personal healing process... In the year since the divorce was final, I believe that building my identity as a runner has been a means for me to repair my identity of myself as a woman, as a human being, and as someone worthy of respect and basic decency.  It is something that I cherish, and because of that, something that I want to share with those that I love.  And lastly, it is something that this Katy Perry song exemplifies. I'm stronger and more healed than I have ever been in my life, and I can't help but want to share that... Not for the applause, but for the sheer joy of being closer to what God intended me to be than I have ever been in my life.  All the glory goes to Him, but please rejoice with me about it!

"So look at me: I'm sparkling!"

Calluses

Earlier this week, I realized that I was losing the hard-earned calluses on my feet.  Considering that they were created in the places where I got blisters (the side of my left big toe, the ball of my right foot and on the heel of both feet), the process actually looks a little bit like it does when a blister pops and the skin flap comes off, but without the pain/weepiness involved.  Yes, I know, not the prettiest of mental pictures, but just a reality of not walking anymore.  The fact that I'm not doing near the exercise that I was makes me sad, as does the fact that I'm going to have to start all over again once I can actually handle walking more than a mile without pain again (and I'm currently at about .35 miles of running without pain!).  If nothing has brought home to me that I'm really not on the Camino anymore, this has.

Honestly,  getting over tendinitis has greatly restricted my exercising, although I am finally adding this part of my routine back into my days.  I have to say that  I will be incredibly happy when I can get up to 3-4 miles running again, but I'm thinking that it is going to take at least another month of recovery, even with taping up my ankles.  I found this really cool way to tape my feet for the type of tendinitis that I have, and I'm going to be trying it out later this weekend.  Keep your fingers crossed that it helps!

At this point, my goal is to be able to run about 3 miles by the time the beginning of December gets here, although I will be happy if I can run about 2/3 of that plus walk the rest.  I just don't want to lose the level of fitness that I have achieved, but every day that I'm not able to get out there is another day that I will be closer to my sedentary, unmotivated, couch potato self--an iteration of myself that I hope to never see again!!!

Losing my calluses made me think of other calluses I have lost.  You see, playing any kind of stringed instrument will give you calluses on your finger tips, and I spent most of my high school and college years getting and then losing calluses on my fingers, depending on how much I was practicing at the time.  When it comes to instruments, there comes a point when practicing becomes torture until those calluses form, and if you don't grit your teeth and fight through it, you will never develop the calluses you need to be able to play pain-free.

There is also a down side to calluses, though.  The thicker skin means that you don't have as fine of a sense of feeling through the calluses.  It protects you from the rubbing or the pressure, but it also means that you won't feel certain things as easily as you used to either, which made doing things like trying to pick up spilled straight pins more difficult than when I had no calluses.

A picture I drew in my journal while on the Camino.

Life has a way of putting Calluses on our hearts as well--those places where life or our own sin rubs or chafes us.  Before my Camino, my heart had a lot of calluses: my former daily life required that I protect myself just to get through the day.  In the Bible, this process of gaining calluses on our souls is often described as hardening our hearts, or that our hearts had become hearts of stone rather than hearts of flesh.  Walking the Camino began working on those calluses on my heart, softening them like a long soak in the tub softens calluses on the skin: you can now attack them with a pumice stone!  The Lord was scraping away on the hard places of my heart in order to expose tender, new flesh underneath. He's not done yet, but I'm closer to the tenderhearted person I used to be, and that, too, is part of the healing process.  I don't relish the process, but I like the result.  May the Lord help us all to lose the calluses on our hearts!

Cheerleading for Fun and Profit (or Why We Need to be Encouragers)

[As an aside, I think I like blogging so much because of the fun of choosing titles....But that is another post for another day. ;-D]

Most of the time, when  I think of cheerleaders, I think of something like this:

You know the type, the way too perky, always happy person that lives in some kind of la-la land most of the time.  And yet, I am finding myself in the role of cheerleader more and more in my life....If anything, I've always thought of myself as the antithesis of the typical cheerleader.  I'm more of a brooding pessimist than a perpetual optimist with a perky, sparking personality...I am more like this:

I've never been a true goth, but I definitely have a corner on introverted navel-gazing

So, I'm finding myself surprised at how well I can fall into the role of cheer-leading.  How did this happen?  I really don't know, but I am currently my department's Wellness Ambassador, so I've been using that role to convince my colleagues to become more active, and in the process, I am doing a Couch to 5k training program with them on Tuesdays and Thursdays in addition to my normal exercising.  (As an added bonus, I am cultivating more running partners!) With some of the less athletic members of my department, that means reminding them that they can do it...hence the cheer-leading! 

Back when I used to teach public speaking, we spent considerable time talking about public speaking anxiety.  When it came to this particular class, I would usually start by asking students what they were most afraid of about getting up in front of everyone: the answers ranged from passing out or throwing up to having everyone's eyes on them.  A few mentioned that they felt sure that they would die of embarrassment! And yet, in my time teaching public speaking (6+ years), I have never had anyone die, pass out, or throw up.  I have had a student break out in tears, and another one trip and skin her knee on the way to the podium (and a few other jokers taking prat falls for the laugh), but the worst things people thought would happen have never materialized.  The best part of teaching public speaking was seeing how students were able to get past their anxiety to do well!

I'm convinced that we all need encouragers in our lives to keep us from psyching ourselves out of the opportunities God has put in our paths.  Without encouragers and people who can help us look at our own insecurities with a little bit of objectivity, we lose sight of the unique gifts and talents God has given us to share.  Then, we become like that guy in the Parable of the Talents--the one who buries his talent and doesn't do anything with it.  Scripture says that the master throws this servant out for not at least giving the money to money lenders in order to create interest...I don't want to be that kind of person.  I want to use my gifts and talents so that I can leave this world a better place, and that requires both taking risks and receiving encouragement.

While I'm not sure that I will ever be the perky cheer-leading type, I do want to be an encourager in my daily life, and I think that is something that all of us can strive for, since all of us need to be encouraged at times. Most of us have insecurities, and because of them, we tend to overlook some of our own abilities.  When that happens, we tend to avoid putting ourselves out there because we don't want to deal with rejection or failure.  Here's the thing, though.  If we don't try, we can be 100% sure that we won't succeed. So, sometimes, we need a friend or a colleague to come along side us and encourage us to get out there, to try, to let us know that we can try and will (usually) succeed.  I think that is why I love Dr. Seuss's book, "Oh the Places You'll Go." so much.  It doesn't sugar-coat the fact that we will sometimes have to move through failure to find success, but it also encourages us to take that risk.

The last page of the book.  I love Dr. Seuss!

What risk have you been hesitating about?  What has been holding you back?  Go ahead!  You can take that first step!!!

Going Alone

I have never really been a shrinking violet, scared of the unknown or of doing stuff by myself or on my own. I will admit that there are some things that I'm not able to do, with others or otherwise--anything that requires I fall from a height, for instance....even rappelling is out, since it requires that I let go of a perfectly good mountain!  I will admit to wanting to sky-dive at least once, but I also know that, if I'm the one responsible for jumping out of the plane, there is no way that this particular item on my bucket list will ever happen.  Unfortunately, that is the residual of having a fear of falling.  I can be up high all day as long as I feel safe from falling, but I even have trouble jumping off a high dive!

I would not be this happy if I ever jumped.  I suspect that the picture would basically show sheer terror on my part!

Even so, I went to Albania on a short term missions trip by myself when I was 16, I spent my senior year in Germany as an exchange student, and then I went to Mongolia to teach English for a summer when I was in College.  I have driven multiple long road trips across country by myself--the most memorable was the one where my car caught on fire, or maybe the one where I had a trucker try to pick me up via the CB my dad gave me--it was his way to make sure that I could get help if my car broke down in the middle of nowhere (this probably dates me, since I didn't have a cell phone and cell phones weren't common at the time).  

Honestly, I have no qualms about walking the Camino by myself, and I'm actually looking forward to the adventure.  I know how to be safe with my valuables by keeping them on my person at all times, and I have enough money in my budget that, if everything else is stolen, I can still finish my Camino.  If someone really needs my backpack and my hiking clothes that bad, they are welcome to them. I also know how to protect my person...my sister Sarah made sure of that in high school, and my superiors while working in the dorms finished the job with ways to get out of holds and run.  *shrugs*  I'm not going to be stupid, but if a situation comes up, I can deal with it.

Doing certain things alone still feel a little unnatural to me, though....I would prefer to go dancing, to a concert, or even to some races with other people rather than by myself.  I can and I do go by myself when I can't find anyone to go with me, but I have found that some things are better when shared.  For instance, last March, I completed a color run in ABQ...It was fun, but watching some of the other runners as they interacted with their groups, I realized that it would have been more fun with others, even if only to be able to make fun of how everyone else in my party looked at the end!  I'm hoping that doing things by myself will eventually feel normal.  While I'm really more of an introvert than an extrovert, I have no problems introducing myself to others, so I can make friends where ever I go, and really, that is part of the fun of being single again.

I am terrible at self-portraits.  This is the better of the 2 I took at the Color run back in March...This is probably a good thing, as I'm less likely to inundate here and my Facebook account with self-portraits!

These shoes turned every pair of socks green for the next 4 weeks!

I asked one of the volunteers to take a picture of me.  I showed them how to zoom, but they chose not to...

It is funny....Being single has a different kind of loneliness than the loneliness I experienced in my marriage. The loneliness I feel now is less sharp-edged, less painful....and it doesn't last as long either.  I haven't figured out exactly why yet, although I suspect that the loneliness in my pre-divorce days was mixed with feelings of rejection.  Whatever the real reason, I have come to realize that I may not have full control over whether or not I feel lonely, but I do have control over what I do with it.  I can mope and wallow, or I can go out and live my life.  When I do the latter, I end up making new friends and spending time with the friends that I have....which takes care of the loneliness.  Even when I end up doing something by myself, the act of living mutes the loneliness, if not extinguishes it completely.  It becomes a cricket singing outside my bedroom window rather than the drone of a mosquito inside my bedroom at 3 am.

So, I continue to work on being willing to venture out by myself, and in the process, I'm finding contentment. I'm blessed by friends, but I'm learning that I am also blessed by my own company.  It is ok to go to an event alone!

Hair, Hairy, and Harried

One thing that I'm looking forward to after my Camino is spending a weekend with all of my beautiful sisters in October....they have graciously accepted the challenge of helping me update my look and my wardrobe.  Considering that I haven't done this for about 6-8 years, I'm sorely in need of new clothes and a new look.  This includes my hair--since I keep it pretty short, this means that I have to deal with my hair getting shaggy.  I am currently wearing a headband to work daily, since it is still too short to do anything with, but too long to style like I normally do.  I wouldn't mind so much, except that I hate having hair in my face, and my bangs are about at the place where I usually get fed up and chop them with my kitchen shears.  I am resisting temptation, as I want to be able to really choose a new style when I see my sisters at the end of October.  It is getting dang hard, though.  At the same time I think I'm probably getting too old to continue sporting the "Julia Roberts as Tinkerbell" pixie cut, which I have worn since about the time I graduated from college in 1997.

I hate having hair in my face, so this is my usual "working late while in my PJ's" look.  Funny, it is the same fashion statement that my under 5 nieces seem to sport....I really need a haircut, but am waiting as long as I can stand it in order to maybe update my hair style.  At least I will be wearing a hat on my Camino!

Which brings me to the hairy part--I recently changed which blanket I use because of my animals.  All of them have light-colored hair, and they shed terribly.  Seriously, I think that I sweep/vacuum up their weight in hair every week.  You would think that they would eventually go bald, but no, they are still as hairy as they ever were...In the mean time, I have gone to a cream-colored comforter, since the hair doesn't show, and I have taken a vow to never buy microfiber fuzzy blankets ever again.

Ginger and the fuzzy blanket--as long as I own pets, I will never own another fuzzy blanket again!  I don't care how warm they are--they are hair magnets!

I am a procrastinator of epic proportions, and I am taking a few moments to write this so that I can get back to work on my proposal for teaching a class next spring.  I am really looking forward to getting back into the classroom, but I have to get my proposal in by the end of the week, and I'd like for a colleague to look it over before I turn it in.  That means that I need to finish my proposal as well as my syllabus before I go to bed tonight.  I can't say that I'm looking forward to staying up late tonight, but it will also mean that I will probably be able to teach in the Spring, and that is something that is worth a little less sleep.

I really need to be better at not procrastinating, but I have yet to figure out a way to refrain from doing so, especially when I have access to the playground that is the internet at my fingertips day in and day out.  I've tried Chrome Nanny, and it works to a point--did you know that you can just open another browser, like Firefox, and get around it?  It is the same with using the Pomodoro technique.  I'm really good about following it for one pomodoro, and then the ticking tends to get relegated to background noise, and I'm back where I started....I will figure it out some day, and hopefully going on my Camino will help me to reset my priorities. *sigh* It is the one sin that I have to confess every time I go to Reconciliation.  I know that it is better than coming up with new and ever more interesting sins each time, but it would also be nice to no longer have to confess this particular sin!

This is what the blanket looked like before I washed it--but the washing didn't get all of the hair out.  I think that this will be the "Hairy Blanket" from now on.  Sometimes I want to look at my critters and tell them, "this is why we can't have nice things!!!"

Lastly, I have not really trained for the last 4 weeks, running wise.  This means that I'm still barely able to run 3 miles, when I should be running 10-12 miles on my long runs.  If I don't get back in the habit of running soon, there is no way that I will be able to finish my Marathon in the middle of October.  I talked to one of the experts in the running club, and he says that, as long as I can run about 20 miles in one stretch after I get back, I should be ok, since I will be hiking with a pack for 3 weeks straight.  I've just kind of run out of steam these last few weeks, and it is really hard to get back in the groove.  I don't want to need my runs like I did when I first got my divorce, but I need some other sort of motivation to keep it up.  I need to work on that....

This is day 4 of the 7 day Challenge that Jennifer Fulweiler set up...Check out this link to see who else picked up the gauntlet!

Music, Musings, and the art of Meandering

Several years ago, my ex started making a series of music compilations for listening to in the car called, "My Sitcom Life."  These were interesting compilations, each revolving around some sort of theme.  One had a bunch of songs about breaking up and/or about the fact that love hurts sometimes--"Love can be bad luck" Another had a bunch of songs about soaring, flying, floating, etc., called, "Flight."  The last iteration that I know of was called, "And now a word from our sponsors," which featured several mock commercials for the Taliban, the US Navy, and others.  I don't have access to these playlists anymore, and I actually don't miss it all that much....I gave my ex the control of what we listened to because he was more into music than I was--it was also easier to concede in order to keep the peace.

Now that I am alone again, it has been fun re-acquainting myself with the kind of music that I like to listen to--contemporary Christian music, recent country, some hip-hop and rap (thanks Sarah--it is your fault that I like this stuff!), Blues, Boy-bands (yes, I like Boyz to Men, and the random New Kids on the Block hit--sue me!), Crooners (Harry Connick, Jr., Josh Groban and Michael Buble!) and the occasional dance/top 40 hit (Gangnam Style, anyone?).  It isn't that I didn't like most of what my ex liked to listen to....in fact, I was introduced to a lot of bands that I probably never would have heard without him, most good, and some totally not my type of music.  No matter why it happened, it means that I'm probably about 10 years behind on country music hits, and 6-7 years behind on Contemporary Christian music, with similar gaps in other genres I like.

Destructo-Dog strikes again....Maybe she is telling me that I'm spending too much time surrounded by noise...Either that, or she just likes the taste of my ear-wax--this is probably the 3rd or 4th pair of earphones that she has destroyed!

I also know that, at some point in our marriage, I began to notice a decided lack of silence in our house....the TV or music was almost always being played at home, so I often opted for silence when I had the choice rather than music or TV.  I began giving up TV and/or radio for Lent.  To this day, my main time of prayer is my morning commute, mostly because I got into the habit of driving in silence.  On the way home, I am often found listening to books on tape--it is my favorite way to read non-fiction.  I think that, in trying to play catch-up, I have lost that silent space in my life....something that all of us need in order to listen to the Lord.

I think that Blessed Mother Teresa says it well:

The fruit of silence is prayer
The fruit of prayer is faith
The fruit of faith is love
The fruit of love is service
The fruit of service is peace.

 This is why I plan to leave my nano and my headphones at home when I walk my Camino this August/September (85 days!!!)...I will have my iPad mini in order to update this blog and keep in contact with family and friends back home via the occasional Skype session, but I don't plan to answer my e-mail while I am gone either.  I actually have quite a bit of music and audio-books on my iPad, but because it isn't as easy to carry as my nano, I will be less likely to whip it out while I am walking.

Besides, while I love to run to the sound of music, I hate hiking to music.  I think it is because music helps me keep my tempo when I am running, but it detracts from the experience when I am hiking.  It detracts from my enjoyment of God's handiwork surrounding me.  Running is about the internal struggle and the way my muscles and sinews move with each other, but hiking is less about me.  Climbing the trail up the mountain takes on spiritual overtones--it is not completely about conquering, but about enjoying the journey.  Running is all about conquering myself, though, and finding my personal limits.  The first step of each successful run seems to start with the question, "Can I?" and end with a resounding "I Can!"  The first step of each hike I take usually starts with, "How far will I get today?"--That question isn't just about the length of the trail, though.  It includes the contemplation, the working through, the random thoughts that scamper around as I walk familiar trails. It is meandering down paths never taken before, both literally and figuratively, which must be explored like a loose tooth must be wiggled by a 6 year old. It is a point of pride to run the mileage that I plan for myself; It is OK if I don't get as far while hiking, because the dig-dog is hot or starting to limp, or I'm starting to get sun-burned.  I finish each run high on endorphins and each hike feeling incredibly blessed....a different kind of high to be sure!

It could very well be that my recent injury was God's way of reminding me that running is a gift from Him, just as much as Hiking is.  I know that, but I'm not sure that I acknowledge it as much about running as I do about hiking.  As much as I love to run, and it is on par with chocolate when I am PMSing or a perfect Creme Brulee, I think that hiking does more for my spirit in the long-run, and if I ever have to choose between the two, hiking will win every time.  The difference could be that I allow myself to be silent when I hike, but don't when I run....I just know that I am less likely to run as far in the quiet than I do while listening to music--maybe because the negative voices in my head are more active while running and the music drowns them out. More than likely, that won't change until I can give myself the permission to ask, "How far will I get today?"  at the beginning of a run.  If I can ever make that transition, I will probably surprise myself by going further than I ever dreamed.  But, like the old adage says,

"the longest distance is from the head to the heart"

So, as I sit out another week to allow my leg to heal,  I will try to meditate on the following verses:

Come, behold the works of the LORD, 

how he has wrought desolations in the earth.  

He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; 

he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear,

he burns the chariots with fire! 

"Be still, and know that I am God. 

I am exalted among the nations, 

I am exalted in the earth!" 

The LORD of hosts is with us; 

the God of Jacob is our refuge. [Selah]    

--Psalm 46 : 8-11, RSV