Day 19

I’ve posted every day since the 5th and am suddenly feeling a lot of pressure to keep this thing going. 

A lot has changed since the 5th.  Even as I wrote that post, I knew something wasn’t right with TGISWOTSDAKHEFAWBOAKHFTD.  Maybe I thought if I wrote a lighthearted post about my non-boyfriend things would turn out okay. 

That asshole, who’s not really an asshole at all, broke my heart on the 5th.  Luckily I had not given him too much of it.  I hadn’t been seeing him for that long and feel a little silly that I was so affected by it, but I was really disappointed, mostly about the loss of what I thought we could have been, but the truth is, it was just not meant to be and when I feel a little sad I remind myself of that. 

The other day I was looking at my calendar and felt relieved that it’s almost December.  In December, I can throw out November.  I don’t have to be reminded of a party we went to together, the date we had the night he told me it wasn’t going to work out and the date we had a week later that we tried to pretend wasn’t a date that mostly just went up in flames.  I can get away from the Saturdays after those dates, which I spent in fogs.

Truthfully though, I hate to be one of those who’s perpetually wishing for time to go faster.  Yes, everyone loves weekends, but the majority of life is spent in weeks, so there have to be ways to enjoy the in-between too.

So, what else have I done since the 5th?

I found a spin class I enjoy going to on a regular basis.  I ran a 10K (mostly).  I gave my body over to a personal trainer who has me walking around like an arthritic 78-year-old but showing me that my body is capable of amazing things.  I learned to foam roll my poor, poor muscles.

I went to San Diego on my first business trip with my new company.  I gave my first presentation and did a really good job.  

I rejoined the wonderful world of online dating.  I flirted and got an extra month and a half on my free gym membership.  I explored a music museum and had wine and easy, uninterrupted conversation with Rebel, the friend/flower guy.

I went to my first opera.    I visited with my mom on her birthday and forgave her for finding my last blog (not literally because I never told her that was why I took it down, but I hadn’t been being fair to her because of it and now I’m over it).  I got upset with my sister and got over that too.  I caught up with an old friend at a casino at 5pm on a Saturday like (arthritic) 78-year-olds bussed in from the retirement communities.  I made holiday plans with college friends.

I’m going to enjoy the rest of November.  I’m going to slow down.  It’s not about rushing to the next phase.  I’m going to let myself feel the hurt if it comes up AND remember to enjoy the good things that make up the in-between time.

Advertisements

The Next Thing on My List

I’m a list lover and my lists are ridiculous.  The other day my lists were stressing me out.  Well, my lists and my calendars and the fact that my boss was like, “wow, you’ve got a lot backing up on your plate for the end of this week.” 

"I'm right on top of that, Rose"

But, then I discovered the best thing to do when you’re stressed out about all the things you HAVE to do…whatever the hell you WANT to do. 

I WANTED to go to spin and I did and it was the best spin class I’d been to in a long time!  And the world didn’t stop because I ignored my list for an hour.

Runner’s Body

I spent Saturday moping. I watched Sex and the City 2 and Hope Floats (on repeat…oh Sandra, if only you knew back then). And bought butt paste/judged the girl buying a pregnancy test. And bought a couch (I’m an emotional shopper, but this one definitely takes the cake). Okay, so I guess I wasn’t too big of a mope, I did shower before 3pm and I actually ate for the first time in a while.  Waffles for dinner, nope, that’s not the sign of a mope.

I knew what my body needed – endorphins – but I wasn’t ready to give them to it. I needed a random Saturday.

On Sunday, Hope Floats was still in my DVD player, so I figured, what the hell, but just once more. Then I moved my butt. I took it to the treadmill to work up a sweat. I have my first 10K on Saturday and I’m so unprepared.  I’ve come to terms with that and I’m going to participate and complete it, but those are my only expectations. Trying to force myself to train for it didn’t work for me.

Now I’m running for me. I ran again this morning and despite the soreness I have from running + weights yesterday, it felt even better today. At 4:45am (which truly was 4:45am because in Arizona we don’t do any of that “fall back” crap).

I almost forgot how much I like to work out just for the sake of working out. My runner’s body right now is more like that of a 65-year-old arthritic woman, but it will get better.  I know it’s only been two days and I know I’m only going to be more sore tonight when I try to do more weights and worse tomorrow when I am going to spin class, but I’m going to work through it because my body needs the endorphins and my brain needs the distraction.  And I really like to sweat.

My Journey Into Mental-Health-Issues-Land

I have a massage scheduled after work today, but I’m just guessing it’s going to take more than 60 minutes for the therapist to pull my shoulders down from my ears.  I have been so tense and anxious for the past few days, and while I can pinpoint a few potential triggers I cannot figure out how to calm the fuck down. 

Spin calmed me down for a bit last night, but what with my already racing heart, purposefully trying to raise my heart rate was probably not the healthiest idea.  Post-spin, my formerly-knotted stomach was calm enough to realize how hungry I actually was and I ate my first good meal in days, but this morning it’s right back to only being able to handle black coffee and water. 

On the upside, I might meet my weight loss goal for the month much quicker than anticipated.  Like tomorrow.

Panic attacks are NOT supposed to last this long.

UPDATE:  Less than an hour later, perhaps as a combination of writing it out, discussing anxiety-inducing issues via text with the new guy and running to Sprouts for some Bach Rescue Remedy (and taking said Remedy) at lunch, I feel better.  A good scientist would have kept some control variables to discover what the actual cure was, but there was no time.  I’m just glad to no longer be going crazy.