It's no accident I've had some radio silence lately. Every time we turn around, the world is changing, and usually not for the better. As someone that posts publicly, I've struggled to find the right words to say about our world right now. It seems wrong to flippantly post about my latest run when some people are fighting for their livlihoods, whether it be in terms of taking a literal breath, recovering from economic devastation, staying healthy, or keeping some semblance of a healthy mental and emotional outlook.
I also feel as if I am in no position to offer any real wisdom or guidance on any of the above. I'm a flawed person, living each day to my best, trying (unsuccessfully) to understand the world around me. I'm also learning lately that sometimes its best to keep your mouth shut and your ears open. I don't in any way, believe thats a way to advocate for any systemic change. But I am learning, one step at a time, and have always believed in the concept of understanding before action (at least in terms of actions that go beyond ones that affect me, myself and I. I give myself perfect permission tof*ck up my own life. I mean, to learn from my mistakes).
I can't decide really how to classify life in a pandemic. It seems to exist in a bubble for me. At times, it feels like life has been this way forever. I forget what its like to see a school bus. Go to the store to just shop mindlessly. Plan an evening out. See my friends. HAve a play date for the kids.
The past month has had its ups and downs, as I am sure anyone can attest to. I can't do it justice in a post except to speak through my own personal lens. The beginning of May held such promise of some sort of return to normal (whatever that is!), and the end of the month simultaneously nudged the door open to living again in the COVID era while shutting it down with swift and non-sensical violence in the world.
No one knows what to think or talk about any more. We are all in such a state of shock and concurrently numb to any more life knocks that are happening. I firmly believe that empathy, open ears, and open communication is the only path out.
So I've been living my own truth. Even though 2020 was really in no ones plans, we all have to live with what we've got. Not to accept our circumstances, but to navigate them the best we can. I can't say I'm killing it. Far from it. I'm usually a woman with a plan - whether it be a plan for racing, for the weekend, for my career, for my kids...and right now, that plan changes daily. It's either a recipe for mental growth or for complete destruction. Sometimes both in one day.
So I'm learning to be patient. To be flexible. To honor what both my family and I need. And that includes listening to what helps me be a better person. There are the mandatory life "necessities" of course, but lately I've been doing a lot of thinking about who I want to be coming out of this. It seems as if there have, in fact, been the "Stages of Pandemic Life" in 2020 for me -
First, there was denial. This isn't happening. This isn't part of my plan. Nah. We gonna be back to normal soon. I pretty much lived this stage for the first month, until April 10th, when my summer Ironman was cancelled. Not that my life revolves around racing (ok fine, busted), or that I had minimalized the pandemic at all, but this set off the notion in my little brain that we were probably in this for the long haul.
Post denial, I went through the overwhelm stage. I spent fourdays weeks eating wayyyy too many carbs and sort of flim flamming from one extreme to the next. I ran 15 miles. I took two days off at drank too much wine. I spent a full day being creative maven to my kids. I spent a full day saying "f it", go play minecraft. I worked a 12 hour day. I took a day off and hid under the covers. I'd call the normal female behavior (I can say that 'cause I have two X chromosomes) but I strongly suspect this behavior was indicative of most of the world in some shape or form. The "pause" was not meant to be a time to be our best selves. The stress, fear, and grief - no matter what your specific grief was - was enough to unleash any kind of coping mechanism that could be found.
I think I've finally hit the third stage. I'm not quite sure what to call it. I'm tempted to call it serenity, but that's probably not accurate. There is a strong element to accepting what I can control and learning to let go of what I can't. In terms of my relationships, I've accepted the ones that aren't healthy for me - if they are in a spot in my life where I can step back from them, I will. If not, I treat them as such so that they don't define me. I don't need to instigate contact with people that make me feel bad about myself - I can do that on my own. I've started to spend more time and energy on those that naturally build me up or encourage me to be my best self - whether its my kids, my husband, my family, or my friends - I've got some pretty great contacts in my inner circle right now - a fantastic little group of people that accept me for who I am, both the bad and good parts. I've also started taking things into perspective in shades of gray - it's not an all or nothing world. If you know me at all, I use running as a pretty constant form of stress relief, socialization, time alone with my thoughts, and race training. I've started running on a "how I feel" basis, rather than any type of pre planning- I've had some pretty awesome runs with one of my best friends. Pretty fantastic runs all by myself. Runs in the heat. Runs in the rain - splashing through puddles and enjoying the life I CAN be thankful for. Thinking runs where I come to some pretty great conclusions. Runs amid tears, where I work through myself, one mile at a time.
Truth is, I'm in a pretty good spot with me right now. And oddly enough, at a really undefined time. And without a "goal". I had grasped at straws for so long, looking for some milestone to help define me. 140.6. 26.2. BQ. I had settled in on a 100 miler and went for that for the past 3 weeks. After a fantastic training block, I found out last night the race was cancelled.
This morning, I laced up my shoes and set out in the early morning dawn... regardless of the race that was no longer. About a mile in to my 5 or 10 or whatever mile run, my legs said...stop. Today is not a day to run. It's a day for other things. I thought about it for a minute, hit stop on my watch, and walked back home. It was a perfect seventy degrees out with a light breeze. There were people out walking, running, riding. The sun was rising. The clouds were magnificent. I appreciated every moment of that walk home and knew I would be out tomorrow, running again, with fresh legs.
Sometimes, life is like that. You run the miles, you kick some ass. Then sometimes, you step back and appreciate the beauty of the world in a different way. You listen instead of doing. You reframe your thinking. You reset your goals. Two miles later (yes, I took the long way) I got home and my six year old son, our early riser, was the only one up. He asked "Mommy - did you have a good run?" And I looked at him and said "buddy, I didn't go fast. Mommy's legs needed a rest. But it was a great run.". He patted the spot next to him on the couch and said, "Mommy - come snuggle?"
Of course I will buddy. Can't think of a better way to start this day again. Was it the 10 miler I had planned? Nope. It was even better than that. And just like that, a new day had begun.
I also feel as if I am in no position to offer any real wisdom or guidance on any of the above. I'm a flawed person, living each day to my best, trying (unsuccessfully) to understand the world around me. I'm also learning lately that sometimes its best to keep your mouth shut and your ears open. I don't in any way, believe thats a way to advocate for any systemic change. But I am learning, one step at a time, and have always believed in the concept of understanding before action (at least in terms of actions that go beyond ones that affect me, myself and I. I give myself perfect permission to
I can't decide really how to classify life in a pandemic. It seems to exist in a bubble for me. At times, it feels like life has been this way forever. I forget what its like to see a school bus. Go to the store to just shop mindlessly. Plan an evening out. See my friends. HAve a play date for the kids.
The past month has had its ups and downs, as I am sure anyone can attest to. I can't do it justice in a post except to speak through my own personal lens. The beginning of May held such promise of some sort of return to normal (whatever that is!), and the end of the month simultaneously nudged the door open to living again in the COVID era while shutting it down with swift and non-sensical violence in the world.
No one knows what to think or talk about any more. We are all in such a state of shock and concurrently numb to any more life knocks that are happening. I firmly believe that empathy, open ears, and open communication is the only path out.
So I've been living my own truth. Even though 2020 was really in no ones plans, we all have to live with what we've got. Not to accept our circumstances, but to navigate them the best we can. I can't say I'm killing it. Far from it. I'm usually a woman with a plan - whether it be a plan for racing, for the weekend, for my career, for my kids...and right now, that plan changes daily. It's either a recipe for mental growth or for complete destruction. Sometimes both in one day.
First, there was denial. This isn't happening. This isn't part of my plan. Nah. We gonna be back to normal soon. I pretty much lived this stage for the first month, until April 10th, when my summer Ironman was cancelled. Not that my life revolves around racing (ok fine, busted), or that I had minimalized the pandemic at all, but this set off the notion in my little brain that we were probably in this for the long haul.
Post denial, I went through the overwhelm stage. I spent four
I think I've finally hit the third stage. I'm not quite sure what to call it. I'm tempted to call it serenity, but that's probably not accurate. There is a strong element to accepting what I can control and learning to let go of what I can't. In terms of my relationships, I've accepted the ones that aren't healthy for me - if they are in a spot in my life where I can step back from them, I will. If not, I treat them as such so that they don't define me. I don't need to instigate contact with people that make me feel bad about myself - I can do that on my own. I've started to spend more time and energy on those that naturally build me up or encourage me to be my best self - whether its my kids, my husband, my family, or my friends - I've got some pretty great contacts in my inner circle right now - a fantastic little group of people that accept me for who I am, both the bad and good parts. I've also started taking things into perspective in shades of gray - it's not an all or nothing world. If you know me at all, I use running as a pretty constant form of stress relief, socialization, time alone with my thoughts, and race training. I've started running on a "how I feel" basis, rather than any type of pre planning- I've had some pretty awesome runs with one of my best friends. Pretty fantastic runs all by myself. Runs in the heat. Runs in the rain - splashing through puddles and enjoying the life I CAN be thankful for. Thinking runs where I come to some pretty great conclusions. Runs amid tears, where I work through myself, one mile at a time.
Truth is, I'm in a pretty good spot with me right now. And oddly enough, at a really undefined time. And without a "goal". I had grasped at straws for so long, looking for some milestone to help define me. 140.6. 26.2. BQ. I had settled in on a 100 miler and went for that for the past 3 weeks. After a fantastic training block, I found out last night the race was cancelled.
This morning, I laced up my shoes and set out in the early morning dawn... regardless of the race that was no longer. About a mile in to my 5 or 10 or whatever mile run, my legs said...stop. Today is not a day to run. It's a day for other things. I thought about it for a minute, hit stop on my watch, and walked back home. It was a perfect seventy degrees out with a light breeze. There were people out walking, running, riding. The sun was rising. The clouds were magnificent. I appreciated every moment of that walk home and knew I would be out tomorrow, running again, with fresh legs.
Sometimes, life is like that. You run the miles, you kick some ass. Then sometimes, you step back and appreciate the beauty of the world in a different way. You listen instead of doing. You reframe your thinking. You reset your goals. Two miles later (yes, I took the long way) I got home and my six year old son, our early riser, was the only one up. He asked "Mommy - did you have a good run?" And I looked at him and said "buddy, I didn't go fast. Mommy's legs needed a rest. But it was a great run.". He patted the spot next to him on the couch and said, "Mommy - come snuggle?"
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