If there's one thing I can honestly admire about my infant son, it's his ability to take one full in the face, and just keep on going. Don't get me wrong- sometimes he needs to cry a little bit first, sometimes he needs a little comfort-snuggle- but then he gets the hell over it and gets the hell on with it, bold and fearless as ever before, face-planting be-damned.
Most of us could all stand to be a little more like that, I think.
Showing posts with label wisdom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wisdom. Show all posts
8.01.2016
4.15.2016
Filling Up My Heart Tank
An Old Friend of mine came to town recently, and when he asked if I was "able to do anything this week", I replied:
"Should be- if by 'anything' you mean 'hang out at my house'."
Because honestly it is hard to get "out" to places with a baby, if you plan on spending a good chunk of time at said place (and I did want to spend a good chunk of time with my friend). Infant schedules complicate life, you guys.
But then I remembered that I had today off! And so I suggested we go out hiking, instead, because a) I haven't hiked on a weekday in a while, and it is such a treat to be on a less-crowded trail; b) I was craving some good Forest Time; c) I need more miles; and d) honestly I think hiking is one of the best possible ways to spend quality time with someone you care about (it also works as a good first date- it's a pretty quick way to weed out the ones that aren't going to be worth your time).
We ended up doing one of my favorite hikes, the Multnomah-Wahkeena Loop, which meant that all told we got in more than five miles worth of back-and-forth catching-up, and since I was schlepping an 18lb kid (plus a backpack) that was a good chunk of time, indeed.
I've noticed over the past year or so that there are some breezing-through-town Old Friends that leave me feeling exhausted after our "catch up" sessions, and not in a good way. Other Old Friends (such as today's companion) leave me feeling energized and happy. I think I'm now in a stage of my life where I'm going to try to gently disengage from those people who deplete my energy, the ones I tend to see out of a strange sense of obligation to the past, and instead save myself for those who leave me feeling better than I did before I saw them. I need to embrace opportunities to refill my Heart's fuel-tank, and avoid those that drain it, because I just don't have the time to recover like I once did.
"Should be- if by 'anything' you mean 'hang out at my house'."
Because honestly it is hard to get "out" to places with a baby, if you plan on spending a good chunk of time at said place (and I did want to spend a good chunk of time with my friend). Infant schedules complicate life, you guys.
But then I remembered that I had today off! And so I suggested we go out hiking, instead, because a) I haven't hiked on a weekday in a while, and it is such a treat to be on a less-crowded trail; b) I was craving some good Forest Time; c) I need more miles; and d) honestly I think hiking is one of the best possible ways to spend quality time with someone you care about (it also works as a good first date- it's a pretty quick way to weed out the ones that aren't going to be worth your time).
We ended up doing one of my favorite hikes, the Multnomah-Wahkeena Loop, which meant that all told we got in more than five miles worth of back-and-forth catching-up, and since I was schlepping an 18lb kid (plus a backpack) that was a good chunk of time, indeed.
 |
| So pale. So very, very pale. |
4.11.2016
Ice Cream Feast
Six friends, Anton, Bradley, Carlton, Devon, Ellis, and Frank, go out to eat together at an all-night diner. At the end of the meal they're presented with a dessert menu, upon which is listed two options: peach ice cream, or pistachio ice cream.
"Dude!" says Anton, "I love peach ice cream! It's my favorite. But man, pistachio is not for me. If they're out of peach I'm just going to have to go to bed without dessert, because I'm not having anything but peach."
"Wow, really?" says Bradley. "That's so crazy- I'm the exact opposite! I love pistachio ice cream! It's all I ever want. And you couldn't pay me to eat peach."
"You guys are insane," says Carlton."Ice cream is ice cream, and you're crazy to turn down any sort. I mean yeah, I prefer peach, but no way am I going to say no to pistachio, if that's all they have on hand. What about you, Devon?"
Devon shrugs. "Eh, I don't really have a preference. I'll have whichever's easiest to get."
Ellis politely hands the menu back. "I don't do dessert."
"I wonder," says Frank with a grin for the waitress, "if I could possibly get a double-scoop?"
***
And that, my friends, is how I used ice-cream preference to explain the spectrum of sexuality to a friend who didn't understand how a bisexual man is not gay. I'm pretty sure he gets it now.
"Dude!" says Anton, "I love peach ice cream! It's my favorite. But man, pistachio is not for me. If they're out of peach I'm just going to have to go to bed without dessert, because I'm not having anything but peach."
"Wow, really?" says Bradley. "That's so crazy- I'm the exact opposite! I love pistachio ice cream! It's all I ever want. And you couldn't pay me to eat peach."
"You guys are insane," says Carlton."Ice cream is ice cream, and you're crazy to turn down any sort. I mean yeah, I prefer peach, but no way am I going to say no to pistachio, if that's all they have on hand. What about you, Devon?"
Devon shrugs. "Eh, I don't really have a preference. I'll have whichever's easiest to get."
Ellis politely hands the menu back. "I don't do dessert."
"I wonder," says Frank with a grin for the waitress, "if I could possibly get a double-scoop?"
***
And that, my friends, is how I used ice-cream preference to explain the spectrum of sexuality to a friend who didn't understand how a bisexual man is not gay. I'm pretty sure he gets it now.
2.20.2016
Refreshed and Refilled
Today I had a very nice lesson on why Solo Self Care Time is so very important to parents.
Please note that I did not say "Alone Time". Because the sad fact is that all too often, "Alone Time" turns into "Oh shit I can finally get through scrubbing the bathroom/folding every article of clothing in the house/paying bills without someone screaming for my boobs!" time. And in fact, that's what "Alone Time" has been devolving into a lot, lately. Which is what made today's lesson so timely.
Last night my friend Dr. Mess texted to see if I wanted to wanted to go climbing today. Did I! I've been managing to get to the gym about once a week, but definitely for very limited time periods- I try not to be gone longer than an hour, since Nathan is working during that time, which means actual time on the wall is closer to like 45 minutes. Today, however, as I was leaving Nathan with a long list of "Here's what you do for Neeps at this time and that time, and this other time," he said, "How long are you going to be gone?"
"Probably an hour and a half," I said, "Since it takes about fifteen minutes to bike there, and I'd like to climb for at least an hour." (because it was a beautiful day in the neighborhood, just perfect for biking)
"Why don't you just climb for as long as you feel like climbing?" he suggested. "I've got this."
Readers, I didn't need telling twice. I hopped on Zuri, pedaled my way through all the construction (mentally apologizing to the cars stuck behind me on the hill- I'm still not back in fighting form yet), and bounced into the gym with a flourish.
Climbing time, bitches.
Dr. Mess (also a parent, and also not able to get away to climb as often as he might like) showed up shortly thereafter, and we hit the wall. I've been working on an overhung 5.9, and while I didn't make my goal of "no takes, no falls" today (I totes fell), I did figure out the proper hand-position to make that goal a reality next time. That particular route requires a lot of brute strength, which is why I've been working it (I am weeeeaaaaaaak), and it was super gratifying to see how much progress I've made on my ability to do it and not be completely worthless for the rest of the climbing session. In fact, immediately after that one I flashed a 5.10- on slab, which was very good for my morale, because it sort of drove home the fact that while I've lost strength and endurance, I still have technique.
All told we spent close to two hours climbing (and then messing around on the new "treadwall" in the fitness area- very strange) before I called it a pleasantly exhausted day and slowly cycled home.
It's only then that the best part came.
I walked into the living room, where Nathan was hanging out with Neeps, and damned if my boy didn't break into a giant-ass grin when he saw me, and then start giggling when I crouched down to talk to him. It was the most rewarding damn thing you can imagine. Like, you know how dogs (and certain cats) get super excited when you come home, and how gratifying that is? Well it's like that, but better. And I felt such a surge of love and affection for the gibbering little monkey, to the point where I felt like in that moment I honestly loved him even more than I had when I kissed him goodbye that morning.
So.
Spending time doing stuff just for me isn't just good for me- it's also good for my relationship with my son, because I come back to him a refreshed and refilled individual, better able to be a positive presence in his life. This is something I already knew was necessary in terms of my romantic relationship, but had somehow forgotten beneath the pressure of overwhelming, unending need an infant can spew at you. But! Thanks to said romantic partner I received a much-needed reminder, and will try to make a conscious effort to refresh and refill more often, bathrooms be damned.
Please note that I did not say "Alone Time". Because the sad fact is that all too often, "Alone Time" turns into "Oh shit I can finally get through scrubbing the bathroom/folding every article of clothing in the house/paying bills without someone screaming for my boobs!" time. And in fact, that's what "Alone Time" has been devolving into a lot, lately. Which is what made today's lesson so timely.
Last night my friend Dr. Mess texted to see if I wanted to wanted to go climbing today. Did I! I've been managing to get to the gym about once a week, but definitely for very limited time periods- I try not to be gone longer than an hour, since Nathan is working during that time, which means actual time on the wall is closer to like 45 minutes. Today, however, as I was leaving Nathan with a long list of "Here's what you do for Neeps at this time and that time, and this other time," he said, "How long are you going to be gone?"
"Probably an hour and a half," I said, "Since it takes about fifteen minutes to bike there, and I'd like to climb for at least an hour." (because it was a beautiful day in the neighborhood, just perfect for biking)
"Why don't you just climb for as long as you feel like climbing?" he suggested. "I've got this."
Readers, I didn't need telling twice. I hopped on Zuri, pedaled my way through all the construction (mentally apologizing to the cars stuck behind me on the hill- I'm still not back in fighting form yet), and bounced into the gym with a flourish.
Climbing time, bitches.
Dr. Mess (also a parent, and also not able to get away to climb as often as he might like) showed up shortly thereafter, and we hit the wall. I've been working on an overhung 5.9, and while I didn't make my goal of "no takes, no falls" today (I totes fell), I did figure out the proper hand-position to make that goal a reality next time. That particular route requires a lot of brute strength, which is why I've been working it (I am weeeeaaaaaaak), and it was super gratifying to see how much progress I've made on my ability to do it and not be completely worthless for the rest of the climbing session. In fact, immediately after that one I flashed a 5.10- on slab, which was very good for my morale, because it sort of drove home the fact that while I've lost strength and endurance, I still have technique.
All told we spent close to two hours climbing (and then messing around on the new "treadwall" in the fitness area- very strange) before I called it a pleasantly exhausted day and slowly cycled home.
It's only then that the best part came.
I walked into the living room, where Nathan was hanging out with Neeps, and damned if my boy didn't break into a giant-ass grin when he saw me, and then start giggling when I crouched down to talk to him. It was the most rewarding damn thing you can imagine. Like, you know how dogs (and certain cats) get super excited when you come home, and how gratifying that is? Well it's like that, but better. And I felt such a surge of love and affection for the gibbering little monkey, to the point where I felt like in that moment I honestly loved him even more than I had when I kissed him goodbye that morning.
So.
Spending time doing stuff just for me isn't just good for me- it's also good for my relationship with my son, because I come back to him a refreshed and refilled individual, better able to be a positive presence in his life. This is something I already knew was necessary in terms of my romantic relationship, but had somehow forgotten beneath the pressure of overwhelming, unending need an infant can spew at you. But! Thanks to said romantic partner I received a much-needed reminder, and will try to make a conscious effort to refresh and refill more often, bathrooms be damned.
2.02.2016
Morning Enlightenment
February is the month I've designated, "Get Your Crap Back In Order Month". Which means 28 days of no sugar, no alcohol, yes going to bed/getting up on time, yes morning yoga, and yes daily walks*.
Here we are on day two, and I'm already doing Super Great! (celebrate the little milestones, people) Neeps is more or less already in the habit of watching me do yoga, staring intently as I move through some very strange positions and chatter away to him about what I'm doing and why.
This morning I said,
"You don't need to do this yet, but someday you probably will. I hope you start at a younger age than I did, so that you stay supple and never have to feel the body that aches I do. I want only the best for you," I continued, and then was struck by a realization so profound that it took my breath away- but not before I verbalized it; "I wish I could protect you from everything, but I can't. The only thing I can do is give you the tools to protect yourself."
*(Yes, I'm aware this month has 29 days in it- Valentine's Day shall henceforth be known as My Big Fat I Do What I Want Day.)
Here we are on day two, and I'm already doing Super Great! (celebrate the little milestones, people) Neeps is more or less already in the habit of watching me do yoga, staring intently as I move through some very strange positions and chatter away to him about what I'm doing and why.
This morning I said,
"You don't need to do this yet, but someday you probably will. I hope you start at a younger age than I did, so that you stay supple and never have to feel the body that aches I do. I want only the best for you," I continued, and then was struck by a realization so profound that it took my breath away- but not before I verbalized it; "I wish I could protect you from everything, but I can't. The only thing I can do is give you the tools to protect yourself."
 |
| I think I just made my mother proud. |
*(Yes, I'm aware this month has 29 days in it- Valentine's Day shall henceforth be known as My Big Fat I Do What I Want Day.)
7.09.2013
On Being Okay
I am a writer. It's what I do. I write. It's how I process things. So when I found out I was pregnant, I wrote about it. And the day after my miscarriage, I wrote about that. And I'm still writing, about both those things. Because I'm still dealing with them, and I expect that I will be for a long time to come. And while it's true that there's no actual need for me to post what I write for the world to see, I've come to the conclusion that if there's any chance that what I've written might help someone else process things, well... why not?
It took me a bit to come to this conclusion. If you'd asked me, a year ago, if I'd ever post in a public forum about having had a miscarriage, my answer would have been the cliched, "Not no but hell no." Grief has always been a fairly private thing to me. I don't want it on display; I don't want people feeling sorry for me; I want to deal with my shit and move on.
But.
Then the hypothetical became reality. And I suddenly realized that by not talking about it, I was be making it more dark and terrible than it actually was. That's not to say it wasn't terrible- it was. It is. It will be. But by being able to talk to people about it, it helps me feel like it's going to be okay. After all, I don't hide the fact that my father died- why should I hide the fact that our baby died? To hide that it existed in the first place, to deny the joy that we felt over the burgeoning possibilities hidden in my womb- that, to me, seems more unbearable by far than to admit to people that now I'm sad.
I was still on the fence about it until a chance encounter this afternoon. I ran into a friend of mine, and when he asked me about climbing, I hesitated, took a deep breath- and admitted that I'd just had a miscarriage. And do you know what happened? He didn't feel sorry for me- he gave me an understanding look, and then told me about when he and his wife went through miscarriage. And then we made jokes. And it was okay. I was okay.
Sad, but okay. So I got home, and I decided to post all these little writings I had laying around, so that the world can see how happy I was- and how sad I am. And how okay I'll be.
It took me a bit to come to this conclusion. If you'd asked me, a year ago, if I'd ever post in a public forum about having had a miscarriage, my answer would have been the cliched, "Not no but hell no." Grief has always been a fairly private thing to me. I don't want it on display; I don't want people feeling sorry for me; I want to deal with my shit and move on.
But.
Then the hypothetical became reality. And I suddenly realized that by not talking about it, I was be making it more dark and terrible than it actually was. That's not to say it wasn't terrible- it was. It is. It will be. But by being able to talk to people about it, it helps me feel like it's going to be okay. After all, I don't hide the fact that my father died- why should I hide the fact that our baby died? To hide that it existed in the first place, to deny the joy that we felt over the burgeoning possibilities hidden in my womb- that, to me, seems more unbearable by far than to admit to people that now I'm sad.
I was still on the fence about it until a chance encounter this afternoon. I ran into a friend of mine, and when he asked me about climbing, I hesitated, took a deep breath- and admitted that I'd just had a miscarriage. And do you know what happened? He didn't feel sorry for me- he gave me an understanding look, and then told me about when he and his wife went through miscarriage. And then we made jokes. And it was okay. I was okay.
Sad, but okay. So I got home, and I decided to post all these little writings I had laying around, so that the world can see how happy I was- and how sad I am. And how okay I'll be.
6.08.2013
Threes
They say bad things happen in threes.
On Thursday, Isis was bitten at the dog park. We didn't realize it until we got home and took off her harness, and saw the blood flow. I cleaned the wound (my first encounter with a dog bite) and discovered that the puncture was about the size of the final digit on my pinkie. We decided we'd take her to the vet in the morning, and in the meantime I put antibiotic cream in the wound (which she did not like, but put up with, poor puppy).
Friday morning, Nathan took Isis to the vet, and I went to work. After work, I went to the acupuncturist, and after that I saw I had an email from my credit card company, questioning a charge. I called them up and told them that no, in fact I had not tried to purchase $400 worth of Abercrombie & Fitch. In New York. So of course they cancelled my cards and because it was Friday evening, my new ones won't be here until Wendesday.
Did I mention we're traveling today? And that it was my main household card? That all my auto-pays are connected to?
This morning we woke up and I started the carefully-balanced process of getting ready for my ten year college reunion (looking cute without trying to hard, right?). I brushed my teeth and thought to myself, Oh, I should brush my engagement ring, too, so that it will be extra shiny when I show it off to my friends!
Grabbed the ring... and dropped it. Stone down. At just the wrong angle.
So. Bad things happen in threes.
But.
Good things also happen in threes.
Isis got staples from the vet and they told us we did exactly the right thing in cleaning and treating it the night before. She's none the worse for wear, and will have a new, roguish scar to impress the other puppies.
My credit card company denied the attempted A&F charge (and the subsequent PetCo attempt) because they felt pretty positive it wasn't us. So the thief didn't actually benefit from our loss.
My engagement ring is insured. We can replace the stone. But even if we couldn't, it wouldn't matter- because my marriage is not based on a piece of jewelry.
Our puppy is safe.
Our finances are safe.
We are safe.
Good, good things.
On Thursday, Isis was bitten at the dog park. We didn't realize it until we got home and took off her harness, and saw the blood flow. I cleaned the wound (my first encounter with a dog bite) and discovered that the puncture was about the size of the final digit on my pinkie. We decided we'd take her to the vet in the morning, and in the meantime I put antibiotic cream in the wound (which she did not like, but put up with, poor puppy).
Friday morning, Nathan took Isis to the vet, and I went to work. After work, I went to the acupuncturist, and after that I saw I had an email from my credit card company, questioning a charge. I called them up and told them that no, in fact I had not tried to purchase $400 worth of Abercrombie & Fitch. In New York. So of course they cancelled my cards and because it was Friday evening, my new ones won't be here until Wendesday.
 |
| Here, have a worthless credit card number. |
Did I mention we're traveling today? And that it was my main household card? That all my auto-pays are connected to?
This morning we woke up and I started the carefully-balanced process of getting ready for my ten year college reunion (looking cute without trying to hard, right?). I brushed my teeth and thought to myself, Oh, I should brush my engagement ring, too, so that it will be extra shiny when I show it off to my friends!
Grabbed the ring... and dropped it. Stone down. At just the wrong angle.
 |
| Feldspar is considerably softer than diamond. |
So. Bad things happen in threes.
But.
Good things also happen in threes.
Isis got staples from the vet and they told us we did exactly the right thing in cleaning and treating it the night before. She's none the worse for wear, and will have a new, roguish scar to impress the other puppies.
 |
| Also it turns out she's 70lbs now. |
My engagement ring is insured. We can replace the stone. But even if we couldn't, it wouldn't matter- because my marriage is not based on a piece of jewelry.
Our puppy is safe.
Our finances are safe.
We are safe.
Good, good things.
1.23.2013
The Seeker
Just to prove to you that I am still getting my non-specific doodle on:
Furthermore, I am working a new stitchery project, and I've been taking pictures as I go so that I can share a little process with you once it's finished. Huzzay!
 |
| My (cheap) brush pen is running out of ink. |
Furthermore, I am working a new stitchery project, and I've been taking pictures as I go so that I can share a little process with you once it's finished. Huzzay!
1.22.2013
The Dangers of Over-Gripping
Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Jenny O, and I have a problem with over-gripping.
"You have a problem with... what?" you ask.
Over-gripping. It's pretty much exactly what it sounds like: gripping a hold too hard.
"But... why is it bad to have a really hard grip on a hold?" You ask. "Seems to me like that's a pretty good idea, to hold on tightly while scaling a tall wall that you have absolutely no interest in falling off of."
The reason it's a bad idea, Gentle Readers, is because it leads you to fatigue more quickly than you might have otherwise. In other words, it means you're going to lose your ability to stay on that wall a lot sooner than if you'd kept your grip as loose and gentle as is safe. Holding on too hard leads to not being able to hold on at all. And the thing is, you really don't have to grip a hold nearly so hard as you think you do. In fact I was doing a drill today to teach myself how little energy I need to expend to stay on the wall; I would grip a hold, then start to relax my grip until I started to fall, just so I could see how little pressure I actually needed.
It's not just on the rock wall that this problem manifests itself, however. I tend to over-grip everything. My steering wheel, pens, phones... everything. Even Nathan. Ask him. I try to be conscious of this bad habit, and thus there are a thousand tiny moments throughout the day wherein I tell myself to Relax and loosen your grip. And I do, and suddenly realize how much raw force I was using just to write my name, an action which should be effortless.
I have a theory about why this is a problem for me: I am pretty sure it's because I'm something of a control freak. I like to be in control of all the things, and the best way to keep them firmly in check is to hold on really, really tightly, right? Right??
Except... it's fatiguing. And once I fatigue... well, you get the idea. And it's a long way down.
So add to those thousand tiny moments a thousand more tiny moments, wherein I tell myself, Loosen up. Let go. You're not going to fall.
And I don't.
"You have a problem with... what?" you ask.
Over-gripping. It's pretty much exactly what it sounds like: gripping a hold too hard.
 |
| See those tendons popping out in my right wrist? Yeah. |
"But... why is it bad to have a really hard grip on a hold?" You ask. "Seems to me like that's a pretty good idea, to hold on tightly while scaling a tall wall that you have absolutely no interest in falling off of."
The reason it's a bad idea, Gentle Readers, is because it leads you to fatigue more quickly than you might have otherwise. In other words, it means you're going to lose your ability to stay on that wall a lot sooner than if you'd kept your grip as loose and gentle as is safe. Holding on too hard leads to not being able to hold on at all. And the thing is, you really don't have to grip a hold nearly so hard as you think you do. In fact I was doing a drill today to teach myself how little energy I need to expend to stay on the wall; I would grip a hold, then start to relax my grip until I started to fall, just so I could see how little pressure I actually needed.
It's not just on the rock wall that this problem manifests itself, however. I tend to over-grip everything. My steering wheel, pens, phones... everything. Even Nathan. Ask him. I try to be conscious of this bad habit, and thus there are a thousand tiny moments throughout the day wherein I tell myself to Relax and loosen your grip. And I do, and suddenly realize how much raw force I was using just to write my name, an action which should be effortless.
I have a theory about why this is a problem for me: I am pretty sure it's because I'm something of a control freak. I like to be in control of all the things, and the best way to keep them firmly in check is to hold on really, really tightly, right? Right??
Except... it's fatiguing. And once I fatigue... well, you get the idea. And it's a long way down.
So add to those thousand tiny moments a thousand more tiny moments, wherein I tell myself, Loosen up. Let go. You're not going to fall.
And I don't.
12.25.2012
12.11.2012
Climbing and Other Things That are Good for Me
So, as you may have noticed, I don't exactly follow a Standard American Diet. As it happens, my gluten intolerance is actually only a partial reason for this- my sensitivity to sugar is another. Unlike gluten, however, it's possible for me to have a little sugar with no ill effects- and if I'm going to have ill effects they don't show up until the next day.
You can see how this might lead to Badness. Especially when combined with the attitude of, "Well I've already screwed myself over- might as well go whole hog!"
It started with Thanksgiving, of course. I let myself have a day of indulgence. And if I'd left it at that, it probably would have been fine. But did I leave it at that? No I did not. "You're going to be in pain anyway," whispered JerkBrain. "Might as well make it worth it!"
So I had too much sugar during the Thanksgiving weekend, and I followed it up by continuing to Not Avoid Sugar, and do you know what? JerkBrain was wrong (as JerkBrain often is): it is not worth it. Last week I woke up in swollen-joint agony, and I've been dealing with that (and the Other Effects of Too Much Sugar) ever since.
The joints are bad enough, but today what I want to write about is one of the Other Effects. Namely, adrenaline surges. A few years back a doctor diagnosed me with dysautonomia, which is doctor speak for, "We don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but sometimes your autonomic nervous system just freaks out for no reason." Thanks to the change in my diet, however, I've pretty much come to realize that one of the triggers is too much sugar. Anyway, I spent most of today in what is best described as a sort of low-grade panic (even tho' I knew it was just my chemicals, and I wasn't actually afraid of anything) with the nausea and tingling that accompanies un-used adrenaline. Needless to say, climbing times could not come quickly enough, and in fact I left work early because I couldn't stand it any longer.
I got to the gym and went through my stretches (which was somewhat helpful but not really the thing) and then I got on the wall- and enjoyed almost two full hours of serenity. It was brilliant. The adrenaline was put to good use, and I stopped feeling sick. Of course, within about half an hour of leaving the surges were back, but they were reduced, and bearable once more.
The whole day has gotten me thinking about why I do the things I do. I make the lifestyle choices I do so that I will feel good- both physically and mentally. But every once in a while I forget that, and JerkBrain does its best to convince me that I am a martyr, making sacrifices and missing out on fun things and by gods I can have sugar if I want to you're not the boss of me!
::cough::
Yeah. And the thing is, the seductive danger of JerkBrain is that it's right; I can have sugar if I want to, and stay up late, and drink too much, and not do my yoga. I can do all of those things- but then I have to pay the price, which JerkBrain always sort of conveniently forgets to mention. And the price just isn't worth it.
You can see how this might lead to Badness. Especially when combined with the attitude of, "Well I've already screwed myself over- might as well go whole hog!"
It started with Thanksgiving, of course. I let myself have a day of indulgence. And if I'd left it at that, it probably would have been fine. But did I leave it at that? No I did not. "You're going to be in pain anyway," whispered JerkBrain. "Might as well make it worth it!"
So I had too much sugar during the Thanksgiving weekend, and I followed it up by continuing to Not Avoid Sugar, and do you know what? JerkBrain was wrong (as JerkBrain often is): it is not worth it. Last week I woke up in swollen-joint agony, and I've been dealing with that (and the Other Effects of Too Much Sugar) ever since.
The joints are bad enough, but today what I want to write about is one of the Other Effects. Namely, adrenaline surges. A few years back a doctor diagnosed me with dysautonomia, which is doctor speak for, "We don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but sometimes your autonomic nervous system just freaks out for no reason." Thanks to the change in my diet, however, I've pretty much come to realize that one of the triggers is too much sugar. Anyway, I spent most of today in what is best described as a sort of low-grade panic (even tho' I knew it was just my chemicals, and I wasn't actually afraid of anything) with the nausea and tingling that accompanies un-used adrenaline. Needless to say, climbing times could not come quickly enough, and in fact I left work early because I couldn't stand it any longer.
I got to the gym and went through my stretches (which was somewhat helpful but not really the thing) and then I got on the wall- and enjoyed almost two full hours of serenity. It was brilliant. The adrenaline was put to good use, and I stopped feeling sick. Of course, within about half an hour of leaving the surges were back, but they were reduced, and bearable once more.
The whole day has gotten me thinking about why I do the things I do. I make the lifestyle choices I do so that I will feel good- both physically and mentally. But every once in a while I forget that, and JerkBrain does its best to convince me that I am a martyr, making sacrifices and missing out on fun things and by gods I can have sugar if I want to you're not the boss of me!
::cough::
Yeah. And the thing is, the seductive danger of JerkBrain is that it's right; I can have sugar if I want to, and stay up late, and drink too much, and not do my yoga. I can do all of those things- but then I have to pay the price, which JerkBrain always sort of conveniently forgets to mention. And the price just isn't worth it.
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| Trying to draw my way to serenity didn't work. (I need ink and brush for that...) |
7.13.2012
Dog Days
My dog is a good dog.
Nathan and I were sprawling on the couch with her this evening, and discussing how glad we are we got her when we did, instead of waiting until the predetermined "right time" to get a dog. Sometimes life is like that, I guess- things don't come when you think they ought to, but when they must.
It's for the best.
 |
| It's true. |
Nathan and I were sprawling on the couch with her this evening, and discussing how glad we are we got her when we did, instead of waiting until the predetermined "right time" to get a dog. Sometimes life is like that, I guess- things don't come when you think they ought to, but when they must.
It's for the best.
6.23.2012
No One to Blame But Myself
Today's WOD was "Choose Your Own Adventure!" so that, as Jack said with a gleeful grin, we could not blame him if our workout sucked. We were to choose between the numbers 1 and 2, and the letters A, B, or C. I chose 2C, and I chose poorly*.
My WOD:
9-15-21 reps
Hang Cleans
Overhead Lunges (exept we were doing walking lunges)
The Rx for women was to do the reps with 65lbs. I, however, picked up the 45lb bar and knew right off the bat that 65lbs was not going to happen for my hang cleans. And when it came to the lunges- well, I did one practice lunge with the bar, and then a second lunge- and then I couldn't stand back up. So I had to use the 35lb plate, which I do believe was a good weight for me.
Now that it's done, however, I feel I could have gone heavier with the hang cleans- they were tough, but I didn't really have to take a break until near the very end, so that tells me I could have gone harder. Next time I'll try 55lbs.
It gets frustrating, sometimes, because I feel so much stronger than I was- and I am, I know I am- but then I see how much stronger the other women are and I just... feel not very strong at all. But the only solution to that is to keep working at it- and to focus on the progress I have made. For example, today I did all my warm-up pushups (two sets of 15) properly. That is to say, I did real pushups, not girl pushups. And I only had to pause when I hit 10 on my second set. The first day I came to Crossfit I was not able to do more than like three strict pushups without needing a break. So I am making progress... it's just sometimes hard to remember that I need to be comparing myself to myself, and not to the others.
*(I say I chose poorly because I hate doing the longest round of reps last- it's much easier to get them out of the way first.)
My WOD:
9-15-21 reps
Hang Cleans
Overhead Lunges (exept we were doing walking lunges)
The Rx for women was to do the reps with 65lbs. I, however, picked up the 45lb bar and knew right off the bat that 65lbs was not going to happen for my hang cleans. And when it came to the lunges- well, I did one practice lunge with the bar, and then a second lunge- and then I couldn't stand back up. So I had to use the 35lb plate, which I do believe was a good weight for me.
 |
| (I say this because I did have to pause and shake out my arms a few times.) |
It gets frustrating, sometimes, because I feel so much stronger than I was- and I am, I know I am- but then I see how much stronger the other women are and I just... feel not very strong at all. But the only solution to that is to keep working at it- and to focus on the progress I have made. For example, today I did all my warm-up pushups (two sets of 15) properly. That is to say, I did real pushups, not girl pushups. And I only had to pause when I hit 10 on my second set. The first day I came to Crossfit I was not able to do more than like three strict pushups without needing a break. So I am making progress... it's just sometimes hard to remember that I need to be comparing myself to myself, and not to the others.
*(I say I chose poorly because I hate doing the longest round of reps last- it's much easier to get them out of the way first.)
3.05.2012
Good Things From the French
Here we have a page from my sketch book, in which I begin to explore ways to illustrate a French proverb:
The proverb (if you can't read my chicken scratch) is "praise the god of all, drink the wine, and let the world be the world". Nathan clued me in to it, and we both like it a lot, so I said I'd make it into a sign for our house (you know, like "home sweet home", only more along the lines of "tend your own affairs"). I'm still deciding if I want to draw/paint it or embroider it...
The proverb (if you can't read my chicken scratch) is "praise the god of all, drink the wine, and let the world be the world". Nathan clued me in to it, and we both like it a lot, so I said I'd make it into a sign for our house (you know, like "home sweet home", only more along the lines of "tend your own affairs"). I'm still deciding if I want to draw/paint it or embroider it...
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