Riding the wave of a Tsunami

This pandemic has been HARD for me. Granted, it's not as hard as being on a ventilator and DYING. It hasn't been as hard for me as it has for someone who has lost their source of income, or for all the healthcare workers (like my paramedic daughter) who are on the front lines of this thing. I'm not a business owner who is trying to figure out how to stay afloat or figure out how to pay employees who are depending on me.

I am fortunate to be healthy and to have a husband who is still able to do his job and continue to bring home the same paycheck.

From Ctrl+Alt+Del

And...it's FREAKING HARD. I'm an extrovert who HATES to talk on the phone! I had gotten into a fairly nice routine of seeing a variety of friends throughout the week. That's gone. I thoroughly enjoy going for "coffee" at least twice a week (I don't really drink coffee but I like the atmosphere of coffee shops). That's gone. I enjoy going OUT to lunch or dinner a couple of times a week. It's not necessarily the food--it's the place and the people. That's gone. I was supposed to be planning for several kids races I was supposed to direct...three of the four have been canceled already. They are gone. (The fourth is mid-August. I want to believe I can safely plan for that one, but I'm not going to even start thinking about it until May.) I was supposed to be starting spring kids triathlon training this coming Monday. That's gone. My friend's son (who survived leukemia as a baby, graft versus host disease following a stem cell transplant as a child, and pneumonia as a teenager) was supposed to graduate high school in May and we were going to celebrate. That's gone. We just invested a sizeable amount of money that was going to be for retirement...that is not gone but it sure has lost A LOT of value at the moment.

I feel like this poor child.

And I know I'm not alone. MANY people in the world are in shock and many are actively grieving their losses. Some are actively trying to avoid the emotions that are popping up....using various coping mechanisms--food, alcohol, work. The main issue with being hyper-aware of your emotions is not being able to escape from them when they hurt.

Sure, I get that there are "ways around" the "issues"...but that doesn't actually change the emotions. At least not immediately.

From this post

Have you ever thrown away something stinky and forgotten to take the trash out? (Maybe it's just me.....) If you have you know what happens in the morning....you wake up and realize immediately what happened...that smell permeates the house. You rush to do what you should have done the day before-take that stinky bag out-but it's too late. That smell is in the house now. It takes fresh air AND TIME to dissipate. 

But imagine if you can't take that trash out....and your windows are locked. That's how I've been feeling. Trapped. 

~~~

I remember one time when I was a little girl I was throwing a fit in the hallway of my grandmother's house. I was laying on the floor on my stomach, pounding my fists and kicking and screaming. (Who knows why?!) I remember someone (probably my Aunt Carole) stepping over me to get to the bathroom. I remember thinking "don't you even see me? Don't you even care that my world is obviously ENDING?!"

Fast forward several years. I was probably in the 6th or 7th grade. I had spent the day rearranging my room. It was drastically different. I went crying (SOBBING) to my mother...completely DISTRAUGHT over the fact it was so different. She said, "if you don't like it, just change it back to the way it was." But I didn't want to change it, I liked the new way. I was just REALLY SAD that it was different.

Fast forward many years....I was in this conference type thing meant to basically help you "find yourself". They put us through this "Lifeboat exercise". (Let me pause here to say, if you had not figured it out already I'm HIGHLY suggestible and very susceptible to hypnosis.) They had us close our eyes and "set the scene"...we were on a plane headed to vacation. We were happy and content, relaxed. All of a sudden we hit turbulence and the plane was going down. There was only one life raft so only 6 people were going to make it. We had to get up and "make our case" why we should be on the life raft.

I was SOBBING uncontrollably. Truly hysterical. The woman next to me was holding me and telling me it was going to be okay. When it was my turn I got up and simply said: "please tell my kids I love them". 

~~~

I have HUGE emotional reactions. I used to try very hard to control those reactions but I discovered that was like trying to push an inflated beach ball under the water. If it's a little emotion and the environment is calm that's doable for a while. But if the emotion is big and/or the environment is turbulent, or if the "pushing under" is "required" for too long it's impossible.

I have friends who have said they are enjoying this downtime. They are making good use of the "break".

I'm not there. 

Yet.

I think I'll get there. It's just going to take some time for these emotions to settle down. Dwayne likes to say my emotions are like a tsunami. Writing this has caused me to look at that analogy a bit deeper.  Webster defines tsunami as: But

a great sea wave produced especially by submarine earth movement or volcanic eruption

But Google also has this definition:

an arrival or occurrence of something in overwhelming quantities or amounts

I found out doing this research you can't ride the wave of a tsunami because it doesn't have a "face" (a flat part for the board to connect with). It also doesn't break. This point is particularly interesting. In a normal wave of water, it reaches a maximum height at which time the crest actually overturns (breaks). There are several types of waves, but a tsunami isn't "a wave", it's a series of waves that are known as a "wave train". They are usually started by an underwater earthquake, landslide or volcanic eruption. They can be up to 60 MILES long...so the wave pushes forward like a train without stopping for up to SIXTY MILES and can be up to an hour apart.


So, yes, sometimes my emotions ARE very much like a tsunami...and this time it's a BIG one.

I'll write more about my "lifeboat" experience later. It relates. In the meantime, I'm going to take thihs wave train of emotion and go work out. Then I'm going to take a picnic lunch over to Dwayne so we can have lunch together and I can enjoy this crisp weather we are having.

Remember...WASH YOUR HANDS and DON'T TOUCH YOUR FACE!!

Leveling Up in The Game of Life

Content WARNING: this post could be triggering and hard to read, for a number of reasons. (This is not a joke and not written tongue in cheek...)


Recovery is an interesting word....it means:

a return to a normal state of health, mind, or strength.

It also means:

the action or process of regaining possession or control of something stolen or lost.

Returning to a previous state of "normal".

Ever since my brain "broke" and I was forced to stop running/working out, I have wanted to "return to my previous state" of strength and endurance. I had been working out at Iron Tribe. I had completed the Grand Slam. I had completed two Ironman races (Lake Tahoe and Chattanooga). I had started coaching and directing kids' races along the way. I felt strong and powerful and healthy.

And then my brain broke.

I thought brain disease had taken something from me. I thought that regaining the fitness I had lost, regaining the brain function I had lost, would return me to a state of health.

I was wrong. Regaining the strength and fitness I had lost was just going to return me to a previous state of "normal". But I wasn't actually fully healthy.

When I woke up in the middle of the early morning I didn't expect to be hit with this ton of bricks thought. I was sitting there reading a Facebook post about someone wanting advice about returning to running after being off for a couple of years. The President of Huntsville Track Club chimed in with a BRILLIANT answer:

Start slow and short, build a solid base and a consistent routine. Make it part of your regular day so skipping a workout eventually will feel unnatural. Pick a few goals along the way over next year, use a proper plan and train for them. Then come august start your plan for RCM. You’ve got plenty of time, just get out there and do it. Life will always get in the way but try to stick to the plan. Consistency is the best thing for you

That got me to thinking...that answer is about the mechanics of running. The how. But I ALWAYS look at a different side of running...the WHY. My advice is always "Remember WHY"..."Figure out your WHY"..."Hold on to your WHY"

When I first started this running journey I was focused on the "what"-I wanted to run the Rocket City Marathon. (That's ironic...I didn't know the goal of "running" a marathon might turn into "running" as in directing). I figured out how to get there: have a plan, start out slow... Along the way I thought I figured out why.

In case you aren't a "dig deeper" kind of reader and you didn't click on that last link out of curiosity (I think you should read it, I think it's one of my better posts...), I basically said I wanted to learn how to "go the distance" because I was a bit of a "when the going gets tough I quit" kind of gal. Up until then I thought I had quit hard things. I quit relationships, I quit exercise programs, I quit diets... I said setting the goal of running a marathon was because I felt like I had been an "on a whim" kind of person. I would have an idea but when it was time for the rubber to meet the road I would "change my mind" (AKA quit).

By committing to running a marathon I thought I was going to connect with that part of me that could survive hard things.

But, you see...I had already connected with that part of me. When I was 7 years old I got intimately acquainted with that part of me that could live through and endure pain, that part of me that could carry on and keep going. In silence.

Running for most people involves turning off the "quit" voice. "Endure" means "to suffer patiently".

I had already learned how to "endure". I won't go into details, but my childhood wasn't idyllic. I didn't live in a sit-com family. I'll just leave it at that, but suffice it to say, I endured. I thought I had come out on the other side of that past life. I thought my tendency to quit hard things was somehow related to that past life and by learning to stay committed I was going to somehow "win".

While there is some truth to that...any good gamer knows there's always another boss to beat. There's always a harder challenge in the next level of the game. If you beat a boss that pounded on you in level one, in level two you'll encounter a boss that pounds on you AND throws fire. If you master that level, in level three the boss will do those things while the ground crumbles beneath your feet. There's always another challenge to overcome.

When Dwayne and I took over directing the marathon, we knew it would be hard. (Okay I knew it would be hard, Dwayne thought it would be "fun".) I knew it would be a whole other level of challenge. I knew it would spotlight areas of our marriage, areas of each of our personalities, that needed some "work". I actually didn't want to do it for THAT reason more than anything. Running a marathon is HARD. Directing a marathon is HARDER.

But when you are a person who doesn't do ANYTHING AT ALL on a surface level...when you are a person who searches EVERYTHING for the deeper meaning...when you are a person who takes lessons from EVERY SITUATION...hard things become that much harder.

But they also become more meaningful.

When I was young I learned how to endure physically. I turned off my mind and my emotions. I didn't think about the circumstance I was in, I certainly didn't feel the feelings associated with what I was being put through. As I got older I learned how to mentally endure. I reconnected my brain to my body and vice-versa. Along the way, I've had glimpses and hints of emotional endurance.

Everyone will tell you to "listen to your body" when you start running, and I will agree that's CRUCIAL. But it's also crucial to listen to your heart.

I am learning that a lot of the choices I've made in life have been in an effort to either protect or pump up my heart. (Not my physical heart, my emotional heart, stay with me here.) I think this new level I'm on now is all about listening to my heart and giving it a voice. It's about accepting love that's given. It's about standing up against offense. It's about hurting when I hurt, but also about showing love without abandon. It's about showing up and speaking up but also about being quiet and stepping back. It's about taking the lead and also saying no.

If my brain had not broken...if my body had not faltered...I might not have gotten to this level. I'm not interested in returning to a state of previous "normal", but I am interested in the recovery that involves the process of regaining something that was stolen from me. I'm not interested in returning to where I was pre-brain disease. I'm interested in leveling up.

Bring that on that next-level boss. I'm ready.

Thanks for stopping in and sticking around.