I am sure that I will finish the walk
Probably very gimpy
Partially due to the fact that I am not 30 (okay, even 55) any more
Partially because I have very little time to train
I expect blisters and a sore hip
Nothing that soft socks and a handful or two of Tylenol can’t cure
But it is really not about the walking
It is the head
It is the heart
It is all the memories
The good and the bad
The terribly funny and the just plain terrible
Life with Richard was good for a long time
Then it was bad
Then it was over
I could have made a career out of “if only” and “what if”
But it would not have changed the outcome
When he died our lives turned upside down
Everything was forever going to be different
I have spent more time thinking and talking about our life together in the last month than I have in the previous 12 years
It is very strange for me to spend so much time focusing on something that has a outcome I could not change
To share with friends and strangers alike a part of my life that I still don’t have closure for
Richard used to say that I could compartmentalize better than any person he knew
I do not believe that he meant that as a good thing
But he was oh-so-right
So little by little I share more
I smile more
I laugh more
In memory of Richard
Who could make a room brighter just by being in it
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
rain, rain, go away. walking can go away, too, please.
It is pouring rain for the third weekend in a row.
I know we need the rain, but really. How about the weather Gods rain on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday nights between midnight and 6 am?
Just asking.
So, the walking thing:
Last I wrote I was feeling pleased with myself and a bit smug. I was up to four miles at a stretch with some jogging/running thrown in. I was really feeling like this was not going to be much of a problem. Walking the streets of San Francisco (not to be confused with street walking in San Francisco) with Amaya and the rest of the gang should be fun -- they are all really great young people who are smart and funny. Being up all night, not very different than work except it will be out of doors, no charting involved and if I get tired I can stop, eat, window shop and know I will not have to be awake, alert and ready to work at 7 am the next morning.
But life happens as you are making other plans.
All it takes is one misstep.
On the first foot plant of the jogging portion of a session something went very wrong with my right hip. Let me just say that not putting weight on a leg makes it very difficult to walk. And putting weight on said leg was very painful. I spent the next two weeks walking as little as possible. I knew it wasn't a muscle thing since if no weight was on the leg there was no pain.
Had I been a normal human I probably would have seen a doctor (other than at work and having to explain why I was hobbling around) and had an Xray of my hip. *
But I am Cleopatra -- Queen of denial. And of the firm belief that rest, eating well, and large handfuls of Tylenol can cure most anything. Truth be told, had there been something wrong on Xray, I would have had to be compliant with the doctors orders -- which may or may not fit into my plans. Because I believe that if you ask for an expert opinion you jolly well should follow it, therefore don't ask if you don't want to know the answer.
As I said, Cleopatra.
I went back to swimming after about three weeks. It wasn't that swimming hurt it was getting to the pool from the parking lot.
Decided on Tuesday to wear something other than jeans and tennis shoes/flats. Had a bunch of errands and wore my favorite 3 inch heels. Hip not so happy. Back to tennis shoes.
And now, back to walking.
Short amounts.
On flat surfaces.
NO jogging.
We have about 9 weeks before the big walk. I'll be ready.
Or the kids can pull me in a decorated wagon.
I could wear Kohl on my eyes and pretend to be Cleopatra.
* Edit from Amaya:
Text message from doctor friend: "Your mom is limping."
Thirty seconds later (phone call):
Me: What did you do to my mom?
Him: I didn't do anything to your mom. She hurt herself though.
Me: I know, giving you a hard time. Walking or jogging to something. Can't you fix her?
Him: I would love to if your mom was the type of person who could accept help from people.
Me: Yeah.... sorry about that. Sort of runs in the family.
I know we need the rain, but really. How about the weather Gods rain on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday nights between midnight and 6 am?
Just asking.
So, the walking thing:
Last I wrote I was feeling pleased with myself and a bit smug. I was up to four miles at a stretch with some jogging/running thrown in. I was really feeling like this was not going to be much of a problem. Walking the streets of San Francisco (not to be confused with street walking in San Francisco) with Amaya and the rest of the gang should be fun -- they are all really great young people who are smart and funny. Being up all night, not very different than work except it will be out of doors, no charting involved and if I get tired I can stop, eat, window shop and know I will not have to be awake, alert and ready to work at 7 am the next morning.
But life happens as you are making other plans.
All it takes is one misstep.
On the first foot plant of the jogging portion of a session something went very wrong with my right hip. Let me just say that not putting weight on a leg makes it very difficult to walk. And putting weight on said leg was very painful. I spent the next two weeks walking as little as possible. I knew it wasn't a muscle thing since if no weight was on the leg there was no pain.
Had I been a normal human I probably would have seen a doctor (other than at work and having to explain why I was hobbling around) and had an Xray of my hip. *
But I am Cleopatra -- Queen of denial. And of the firm belief that rest, eating well, and large handfuls of Tylenol can cure most anything. Truth be told, had there been something wrong on Xray, I would have had to be compliant with the doctors orders -- which may or may not fit into my plans. Because I believe that if you ask for an expert opinion you jolly well should follow it, therefore don't ask if you don't want to know the answer.
As I said, Cleopatra.
I went back to swimming after about three weeks. It wasn't that swimming hurt it was getting to the pool from the parking lot.
Decided on Tuesday to wear something other than jeans and tennis shoes/flats. Had a bunch of errands and wore my favorite 3 inch heels. Hip not so happy. Back to tennis shoes.
And now, back to walking.
Short amounts.
On flat surfaces.
NO jogging.
We have about 9 weeks before the big walk. I'll be ready.
Or the kids can pull me in a decorated wagon.
I could wear Kohl on my eyes and pretend to be Cleopatra.
* Edit from Amaya:
Text message from doctor friend: "Your mom is limping."
Thirty seconds later (phone call):
Me: What did you do to my mom?
Him: I didn't do anything to your mom. She hurt herself though.
Me: I know, giving you a hard time. Walking or jogging to something. Can't you fix her?
Him: I would love to if your mom was the type of person who could accept help from people.
Me: Yeah.... sorry about that. Sort of runs in the family.
Friday, March 2, 2012
walking update and a stream of consciousness
Walking is harder than it looks.
I started walking at about 11 months which was a LOOOOOOOOOOONG time ago.
You would think that I have it all figured out by now — one foot in front of the other.
No big deal.
The thing is that in my usual life walking is very prescribed:
Eleven steps from bed to shower.
Twelve steps from shower to refrigerator.
Eight steps from refrigerator to front door.
Twenty steps to car.
Sixty eight steps from parked car to door to work.
From there it is kind of a crapshoot.
The day dictates how much scrambling there is in the florescent jungle.
Then away I go in reverse.
All of these places have flat surfaces; they are very well known places. I could most likely walk with my eyes closed without a problem.
However…
In the real world it is much different.
Sidewalks are not flat, they have chunks missing and roots pushing them up. They have curbs that step off to the roadway. The roadways have cars, which may or may not stop when you are in a crosswalk. They have stop signs, which at times seem to be suggestions and not the law. Then there is the gravel that is on top of the sidewalk/roadway, slippery stuff and gritty when fallen upon.
Then there are the gazelles. You know the ones I mean — they have legs that go on forever, 6 foot strides, they blast by you, blonde ponytail swishing, in lycra and a sports bra. It can make scattering gravel seem like a marvelous idea.
And then we get to focus or lack thereof — there is a lot to see — So I gawk:
At people
At yards
At signs
At trees
At soccer games
This is why sunglasses were invented, so people can’t see me gawk. They can, however, probably figure it out from the open mouth dropped jaw and the slow shaking of the head side to side. I have no problem saying that I am just readjusting my neck if questioned.
Boredom also plays a part. When bored I talk to myself. Most of the time the conversations take in my head but from time to time the conversations are out loud for the world to hear.
Usually just musings on the day, or planning what to buy at the store. Rarely a full blown rant on the miss-justice of whatever. The kids were ever so overjoyed when earbuds came out – that way when talking to myself they hoped people would think that there was someone listening to me through cyberspace on the other end of the ear bud.
So, yes it has been a learning curve. Yes, I have been walking 4-5 miles 3 days a week. I have even added in a bit of running and this is from a woman who has always sworn that I would only run if it were raining AND someone was chasing me with a gun. It is getting easier and less of a push. It helps that my best friend is getting ready for a marathon and is willing to spend part of her training time with me. I have found that I do best on a track –
there are fewer distractions, the ground is more level. I see the same faces most days.
I have even smiled a time or two.
I do still wish that there was a swimming option. It would have been sooo much easier.
I started walking at about 11 months which was a LOOOOOOOOOOONG time ago.
You would think that I have it all figured out by now — one foot in front of the other.
No big deal.
The thing is that in my usual life walking is very prescribed:
Eleven steps from bed to shower.
Twelve steps from shower to refrigerator.
Eight steps from refrigerator to front door.
Twenty steps to car.
Sixty eight steps from parked car to door to work.
From there it is kind of a crapshoot.
The day dictates how much scrambling there is in the florescent jungle.
Then away I go in reverse.
All of these places have flat surfaces; they are very well known places. I could most likely walk with my eyes closed without a problem.
However…
In the real world it is much different.
Sidewalks are not flat, they have chunks missing and roots pushing them up. They have curbs that step off to the roadway. The roadways have cars, which may or may not stop when you are in a crosswalk. They have stop signs, which at times seem to be suggestions and not the law. Then there is the gravel that is on top of the sidewalk/roadway, slippery stuff and gritty when fallen upon.
Then there are the gazelles. You know the ones I mean — they have legs that go on forever, 6 foot strides, they blast by you, blonde ponytail swishing, in lycra and a sports bra. It can make scattering gravel seem like a marvelous idea.
And then we get to focus or lack thereof — there is a lot to see — So I gawk:
At people
At yards
At signs
At trees
At soccer games
This is why sunglasses were invented, so people can’t see me gawk. They can, however, probably figure it out from the open mouth dropped jaw and the slow shaking of the head side to side. I have no problem saying that I am just readjusting my neck if questioned.
Boredom also plays a part. When bored I talk to myself. Most of the time the conversations take in my head but from time to time the conversations are out loud for the world to hear.
Usually just musings on the day, or planning what to buy at the store. Rarely a full blown rant on the miss-justice of whatever. The kids were ever so overjoyed when earbuds came out – that way when talking to myself they hoped people would think that there was someone listening to me through cyberspace on the other end of the ear bud.
So, yes it has been a learning curve. Yes, I have been walking 4-5 miles 3 days a week. I have even added in a bit of running and this is from a woman who has always sworn that I would only run if it were raining AND someone was chasing me with a gun. It is getting easier and less of a push. It helps that my best friend is getting ready for a marathon and is willing to spend part of her training time with me. I have found that I do best on a track –
there are fewer distractions, the ground is more level. I see the same faces most days.
I have even smiled a time or two.
I do still wish that there was a swimming option. It would have been sooo much easier.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
overnight walk 2012
Today I bought shoes.
Not the kind of shoes to make me feel pretty and counteract looking like an aging Smurf 40+ hours a week at work.
No, these are walking shoes.
Shoes that I plan to walk in.
A lot.
Last year Amaya and Royce joined forces in New York for the Overnight Walk with the American Foundation of Suicide Prevention. 18 miles. Overnight. In honor and remembrance of their father.
I, on the other hand, was not ready. New York is not my thing. And I am not the kind to march for a cause or share with the world.
I did, however, see the difference it made in Amaya and Royce’s relationship. In Royce’s self esteem, and his ability to define what he wants out of life and to stand up for himself. It opened up our ability as a family to share the good, the bad, and the day-to-day struggle to keep moving forward.
This August will be twelve years since Richard’s suicide. Six months shy of half of Royce’s life.
This year the walk will be in San Francisco.
The weekend of June 9th.
I will be walking in remembrance of Richard.
And to thank him for the greatest gift he ever gave me: Amaya and Royce.
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