Cleaning and clearing

I don't know about you, but when I'm feeling a bit out of sorts my house usually shows it. Thoughts strewn about my brain are matched by clothes strewn about my house. A dingy, gray mood is paralleled by a dingy, gray kitchen and bath. Interestingly enough, I find the reverse is also true. That is, when my house is messy, cluttered, and dingy, my mind and mood soon follow.

Now I am not a neat freak. I appreciate clean, but my house is my base of activity. There are running clothes drying on various door knobs, work shoes resting wherever I removed them, and bills lying open next to my computer. This is the norm. The problem arises when the vacuum stays in the closet, the broom rests by the refrigerator, and the cleanser hides in the vanity. This, unfortunately, is the current state. And what do you know, my mind and mood are headed in the same messy direction!

So today is cleaning day. Even though I hate cleaning, I need to clean my house to clear my mind. There are so many things I would rather do. Unfortunately, ignoring the clutter is eventually dangerous for my mental well being. Wish me luck today as I confront my mess. I'll let you know how it turns out!

Not to run...

Easily the nicest, warmest, sunniest day we've had since maybe August passed today without me stepping out on the road. Instead, I went inside to swim. Ugh! I swam and swam and swam. I had a 10-12 mile run scheduled, so I figured a 60 minute swim might be approximately equivalent. I swam for 60 minutes, the first time I've ever done that, and I covered 3000 yards, the greatest distance I've ever swam. I'm grateful I was able to swim that far and that long, but I still wish I had been outside! There is no substitute for running! Only 7 days until my marathon...

Saddened by death.

I learned last night of two deaths which directly resulted from alcoholism. One young man and one middle-aged woman, both of whom previously worked a program of recovery, passed away this week. Relapse leading to death...it makes me so frightened and so sad.

I've been struggling with drinking thoughts since my sponsor's relapse. They scare me. These two people who died were no different than I. They were accomplished, intelligent human beings who chose to act on their drinking thoughts. Why them and not me?

I wonder sometimes. Why am I getting it--recovery--when so many others are not? And what if I stop getting it? I have to assume that I, too, would die. If the drinking didn't kill me, the alcohol's depressant effect would surely spin me into suicide. Why haven't I picked up a drink while others, with far more sobriety than I, have picked up? I don't know. There but for the grace of god go I.

Alcoholism is a crazy, scary, deadly disease. I am so grateful to be sober today.

insomnia

It's 4 AM, and I'm awake. Actually, I've been awake since 2:45 AM. It was (is) one of those nights. After awakening multiple times, and finally staying awake after 2:45, I decided to get up and go for my run. Yup, I went running at 3 AM. Crazy, huh?

Actually, it was worse than crazy. It turned out to be dumb. My right calf and shin hurt every step of the way. I'm a PT. I know if a painful area does not improve within the first few minutes of running, it means I should stop running. I didn't. I only made it 3.5 miles, but it was a long, painful, dumb 3.5 miles.

I'm really pissed that I'm injured after all this training! Of course, running through it like I did this morning was not helpful. I likely made things worse. If I had stopped running, like I planned a few days ago, and started swimming instead of running, like I planned a few days ago, I might already be on the mend. I just have to hope it's not too late.

I also have to battle like hell NOT to go back out on the road prior to my race. I have to trust I'm ready and in shape. I have to have the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. At this point in time, I should be able to maintain my fitness with swimming. If I can stay off the road, my leg just may heal enough that every step of my marathon will not be painful. God, I hope so!

Pissing off the devil

Be the kind of woman who when your feet hit the ground each morning, the devil says,

"OH CRAP! SHE'S UP!

Thanks to my social worker who thought of me when she saw this!

Thank you

Today my therapist and I were marveling over the brevity of my recent dive into depression's darkness. That discussion got me thinking. I have you readers to thank for that brevity. You guys wrote some very supportive comments after I posted about my worsening mood last week. Thank you so much. Feeling alone is a big part of my depression, but your comments reminded me I'm among many. Thanks again for your support. I hope I have half the effect on you as you have on me.

A good 10K

With a temp of 35 degrees and wind gusting up to 30 mph, running my planned 10K this morning was suddenly not very appealing. Of course my leg hurt, and I'm still having my morose mood moments, too. Taken all together, it would have been much easier to stay in bed.

However, I needed to run if I wanted any chance of placing in my track club's grand prix series. Today's race was the last chance to earn points. At the start of the day, there were three of us within three points of each other at the top of our age group. I knew both of those women would run, so being the competitive spirit that I am, I got out of bed and ran, too.

Competition is funny. I love it and hate it. It's not like I felt overly stressed, yet I had thoughts of quitting even before the gun went off. Perhaps my fear of failing is stronger than my joy of competing or winning. That's likely. And that's why I felt it was important for me to stay, to run, to race...to conquer that stupid fear!

I really have nothing to be afraid of. There's no contentious rivalry between any of us. I love and enjoy the other women with whom I compete. You might even call us friends. In fact, after the race we hung out, laughed and socialized for a couple hours! It was really nice.

The race, on the other hand, was less than nice. It was cold and hard. The wind really took it's toll. As one of my fellow racer's noted, the wind was another competitor today. We really had to fight against it. The course was also hilly, with the largest and longest hills coming right at the end and into the wind. Not nice. Despite those challenges, I raced well.

I wanted to go out fast, and I did. I ran a 7:05 first mile and hung around a 7:20 pace through mile four. Miles 5 and 6, like I said, were either uphill, directly into the wind, or both. My split times pointedly reflect that fact. Mile five took me 7:54, and I ran an 8:02 sixth mile while exerting the same effort it took to run 7:20 earlier! I finished in 46:57, fifth overall and second in my age group. I felt really good about my effort and about conquering my fear. In the end, as usual, I'm glad I went.

Only two weeks until marathon day...

Faith Without Works is Dead

It was originally coined by Bill W. in the book Alcoholics Anonymous. Faith without works is dead. A strange sentence conveying a simple concept; take action.

No matter how strongly I believe in AA's primary concept, that my higher power can do for me what I cannot do for myself, if I don't take action I will go nowhere. Similarly, no matter how much I believe that my current state of depression will pass, if I do nothing I am dead.

Faith without works is dead. I have faith that this current dive into morasity will eventually pass. After nearly 9 years of battling, I've at least learned that. It will pass. All of the previous black holes have spit me out. All of the previous morose seas have lifted me ashore. I may not know how long it will take, but it will pass. I will survive. I have faith in that.

I will survive, but only if I take part in my recovery. Faith without works means I cannot sit on my ass and wait. I have to keep moving forward, no matter how hard moving may currently feel. I can pray. Praying is helpful. But prayer alone may mean longer misery than I care to swallow. Action feels better. By taking action, I feel some control over what otherwise feels uncontrollable--my depression. I am a participant, rather than a spectator, in my own recovery.

So today I took some action. Despite the moroseness, heaviness and despair, I put one foot in front of the other and moved. I went to my appointments. I made my phone calls. I did laps in the pool, and I took in a meeting. I didn't feel like doing any of those things. I wanted to stay in bed. I wanted to wait. After all, I know this will eventually pass. But faith without works is dead. I'd rather participate than wait, no matter how difficult that sometimes seems.

Look out for that cliff...

Damn, I didn't see this coming.

I've fallen off a cliff into the sea of morosity.
It is a very dark, scary place to be.
And I cannot find my life jacket.

blah

With a title like that, I'm amazed you're reading this sentence. But blah is how I've been feeling. I don't want to do much of anything, which explains why I haven't written in a few days. I think the gray weather is really getting to me. We did have some sun yesterday, but otherwise nothing but gray. Gray is exhausting.

I did run this weekend--21 miles yesterday and 6 more today. I should be proud of that, especially since I am nursing another injury which kept me off the road 4 days this week. I have some tendinitis in my right shin area. It hurts, but not enough that I wasn't able to push through it yesterday and today. Of course I may not be able to walk tomorrow. Kidding...I'll be fine.

So I don't have much to say today. Blah does not lend itself to verbosity, and I don't want to turn everyone off with my whining anyway. I'm not a big fan of whining. This too shall pass...right?

The serotonin dilemma

This is a post I wrote last year, but it's so appropriate right now I thought I'd re-run it.

Conversation With My Brain.

Today I learned more than I wanted or needed to know about the female menstrual cycle. "What does that have to do with you," you ask? I'm getting to that. It seems you and at least one female Hormone share a particular affinity for a crucial neurotransmitter.

You know the Hormone family, don't you? Sure you do! They're okay one-on-one or even in small groups, but once a month they invite all of those loud relatives from god-knows-where and party like there's no tomorrow! Yes, see, I knew you'd heard them before! In fact, didn't they just leave a few days ago? My God! Seems like they were on an extended stay this month, didn't it? They really wear me out with all that revelry!

So much activity stresses me out, you know. I get headaches, and backaches, and downright irritable. Hard to be a good neighbor with all that going on. Anyway, what was I saying, Brain? Oh yes, you and that female Hormone...

Well, I know how much you value your serotonin, Brain. But it's actually my serotonin, remember? You're just supposed to be caring for it. Yes, yes, I know you care for it! But...you know how they say if you love something you should set it free? Yup, you're supposed to let it go! That's what the saying means. Setting it free is part of caring for it.

If you care, you'll set my serotonin free, Brain. No, I am not implying you are selfish! Yes, I realize you are working on letting go, and I appreciate that. I know you've even let go of a smidgen extra serotonin recently, and that's just great! But we've got to get to a point of regular letting go, routine letting go. Remember, sharing is caring!

I know. I know. You're worried. If you let it go, serotonin may be up-and-taken from you. But don't you realize how sad I feel when you hang on so tight? In fact, when you hoard my serotonin, sometimes I feel just like I did last week when the Hormones were in town--irritable, sad, heavy, and slow. I feel just like I did...

WAIT A MINUTE! That's it!
Of course! That makes perfect sense!!

What?

Oh, sorry, Brain. I was having one of those light-bulb moments. (Hey, aren't you supposed to be in on those?)

As I was saying, Brain, you and this Hormone-chick seem to share a particular affinity for my serotonin! So it makes perfect sense, when she's here rockin' out with the rest of her clan, I feel like crap! And it makes perfect sense, when you selfishly "care for" my serotonin, I also feel like crap! AND here's the kicker, if Progesterone Hormone (that's her name, I guess) happens to be visiting at the same time as you happen to be hoarding my serotonin, I feel like DOUBLE-TRIPLE-CRAP!! So what do you think of that, le Brain? Well?

What am I going to do about it? No, you're right, I really can't expect the Progesterone bunch won't come. I could ask, but I'm sure they'll show up anyway. It's gotten to the point where I can almost feel them coming. Once a month, just like clockwork, Miss Progesterone and her entire rowdy clan roll in! And I heard they arrive even more pronounced in their middle years, although maybe with less regularity. Hmmm... Doesn't seem right. They shouldn't be allowed to interfere with my life so much! They must get old and tired sometime, don't you think? Perhaps then they'll stay home.

But what about you, Brain? You've got to shape up! Let my serotonin go! I'm not going to put up with your BS anymore. Yes, I did call you selfish. I'm sorry about that, but if the shoe fits... It's time for you to grow up, to see the bigger picture. It's not all about you!

What about me, Brain? Don't you see? When you hang onto my serotonin, I feel sad and tired. But when you let go, I feel better. And if I feel better, I can stimulate you with a lot more interesting stuff! See? It's a win-win situation! So, whadaya say? Will you let my serotonin go? Please, Brain, let my serotonin go.

Over trained?

One of the symptoms of over training is a drop in previously attainable times. Today, I could barely meet my 800 meter interval time goals, and I only cranked out 6 versus the 8 repeats which were scheduled. I'm tired. Another symptom of over training is needing more sleep, or feeling less refreshed after a normal amount of sleep. Yup, I've got both of those signs, too. But then again, I often have those sleep symptoms--I have depression! However, this does seem different. My legs, my lungs, my brain...I'm tired everywhere.

Perhaps I'm a bit over trained. This is not good. I have my last long run this weekend--22 miles. It's normal to be tired at this stage of training. I'm in the midst of the highest mileage week. But my slower times, I think, are sending me a message. I'm over trained.

I am considering cutting out tomorrow's scheduled run. That's hard for me to even consider, but I'm trying to be smart. Trying to be smart--that's why I cut my run short today, too. I hate having to be smart. I'd rather just run. I'll let you know if tomorrow leaves me brilliant or fatigued.