Blue skies, finally

Today was the first continuously sunny day in more than a week. After being scoured by so much rain, sleet, and more rain, the sky was a brilliant, crisp blue. I decided to be a bad graduate student and skip school (and traffic). (In my defense, I've put in a lot of work this week, gone in early and stayed late, and submitted abstracts and manuscript drafts, so I decided playing hooky was okay.) On my day off, I...

...went to an Xtend Barre class at the decadently late hour of 9 a.m.

...decided to enjoy the sun by going to the park and jogging. I'm not sure where I mustered up the energy, but I managed to run four miles with negative splits, with my slowest mile being 9:28 and my fastest being 9:05. Those are good times for me, especially considering that I never felt like I was going all out.

Evidence of a gorgeous day.

...went on a coffee/hummus date with my husband at a new cafe in town:

The coffee was Panama something-or-other,

and it was amazing.

...borrowed some books from the library, including the new biography of David Foster Wallace.

...did some laundry.

...did not clean my house.

Re: that last one. It's funny how memories that once seemed insignificant - like, why have I remembered it all these years? What was the purpose in hanging onto it? - sometimes take on greater meaning. One such memory is of going to my first best friend's house to play. The place was always a complete disaster area: toys everywhere, sticky countertops, pet fur covering the couches, dust all over the floor. Even as a six-year-old, I noticed the disarray. But it was always so much fun. We let our imaginations run wild building stuff, coloring, moving toys from one room to another, going from inside to outside to inside to outside. Unlike my other friends' moms, she wasn't one to chase after us with broom, dustpan, vacuum cleaner, and annoyed tone. Instead, she was usually reading or writing or cooking or doing something for herself. She seemed to have her own life. I remember feeling really free and relaxed there, knowing that as long as we didn't fight or say/do anything inappropriate, no-one was going to yell at us.

Even with just one kid, it's hard to keep our place clean, and I try far less to do so than I used to. There are legos under pretty much every piece of furniture and Kindergarten artwork on almost every wall. Our ottoman is falling apart, and our couch has a three-inch gash in the cushion. My son's room looks - to me - like a mess, though he assures me that it is actually a house with its own kitchen, bedroom, and art center.

It's not a total pit. It's not dirty. It's just messy and lived-in. Well loved, well used. Nothing like a Pottery Barn ad. I could clean for 18 hours a day and my son could still undo it in a matter of minutes. 

Sometimes I wish it were cleaner (I'm type A: messes of any kind make me at least a little anxious) but then I remember my friends' house and I feel better. That feeling I had when I was there is the feeling I want him to have at home. Freedom to just be a kid and not worry about how an emptied toy box might affect the adult's psyche.

34

My birthday's tomorrow. I will be 34. I'm cool with that, and I'm starting to understand what people mean when they say that your 30s are in many ways (not every way) "better" than your 20s.

Tomorrow I will be 34, and I will have more gray hair, cellulite, and spider veins than ever before. I will still have my pizza-dough stomach and my tiger-stripe stretch marks. I will still be in school. I will still be struggling to help maintain a savings account. I will still not know how to ski. My child will still be saying "Mommy? Mommy? Mommy. MOMMMMY. Mommy. Mommy (ad infinitum)" just as he is right now as I type this.

Tomorrow I will be 34, and I will be in the best physical shape of my life so far. I have more resources than I've ever had for coping with difficult emotions and my sometimes-erratic brain. I have more self-awareness than I did at this time last year. My life hasn't changed much since then, but I have a greater appreciation for my life. Same situations, same circumstances, different outlook.

I bought myself two birthday presents:

1) Fancy (for me) shampoo and conditioner

2) This book, which I am really enjoying so far and hope will be helpful: The Mindful Way Through Depression... Because at some point, it would be nice to stop taking Zoloft (though I'm not counting on it).

Tomorrow should be really low-key. I'm doing an early-morning 8-mile run with RF, taking some treats in to share with my class, and maybe grabbing some takeout with my family.

Forced rest and spicy carrot-bean-garlic soup

Every now and then, it's almost a relief to be well and truly flattened by a seasonal illness - because then I am forced to slow down, regardless of all the things I think I need to do or how far behind I think I'm getting or what a lackluster parent I think I'm being. A minor cold, random stomach issues, a persistent cough - I can work around those things, even if I feel really bad. It's only when I can't get out of bed that I have no choice but to stop and give in.

Wednesday morning, my nose was runny and my eyes were watery, but ragweed levels in our area were high, so I thought that was the culprit. I took some allergy meds and waited to feel better. Nothing happened. Wednesday afternoon, I started coughing. Wednesday night, I felt feverish.

Thursday morning, I stayed home from work and went in only to teach a lab. I thought about asking my advisor (who teaches the lecture counterpart of the course) to take over for me, but he's not one for excuses. Being that I was upright and could drive, I figured he wouldn't be all that sympathetic. During lab I was so wrecked that I wanted to crawl under a table and take a nap, but the students in the class were so pleasantly determined, enthusiastic, and interested in what was an admittedly challenging set of activities that I rallied and tried to meet their level of energy. Did that happen? Not exactly. I sensed that they were taking some pity on me. I must have looked like roadkill by that point.

I slept for a total of maybe three hours on Thursday night and by sunrise I could barely sit up in bed. I ended up working from home and took frequent rest/nap breaks. Normally I'd feel guilty for not going to work, but I realized that I was in absolutely no shape to get behind the wheel, drive 20 minutes on the highway, and communicate with people in a functional manner. Plus I would have passed on this flu to my colleagues.

I'm still feeling exhausted today. I'm also dizzy, but I think that has more to do with me forgetting to take my Zoloft yesterday and this morning (classic symptom of antidepressant withdrawal, according to The Google). Hopefully I'll continue on this upswing and be ready to get back to work, running, and more energetic mothering come Monday morning.

All that said? It does drive me crazy to not be able to do what I want to do, especially run. But I know from past experience that if I try to run while I'm still congested, this thing is just going to drag on.

I did have enough energy to make something yummy and healthy for today's lunch: a spicy carrot-bean-garlic soup. It's a spinoff on one of Marlow's recipes over at Gluten Hates Me (I love that blog - go check it out, even if gluten loves you. She has great recipes.)

I heated oil in a saute pan and added 1/4 an onion and two cloves of garlic. When they were soft (~5 minutes), I added a few handfuls of chopped spinach, a can of garbanzo beans, and ~1/4 cup black beans, stirring occasionally until they were warm.

I also added several dashes of cayenne. Anything to help clear my sinuses.

Once the bean/spinach mixture was hot, I poured in one box of Trader Joe's carrot-ginger soup and let the whole concoction simmer on medium heat until it was steaming. I LOVE this soup. It's delicious - tasty, but not salty or overpoweringly ginger-y.

The result:

I've already had three bowls. Moderation is not my strong suit. But then again, don't they say to feed an illness? I can handle that.

While recovering, I'm reading triathlete Chrissie Wellington's book A Life Without Limits. It is truly inspiring. Of the three running-related books I read this summer - the others being those by Rich Roll and Scott Jurek - I think this is my favorite. Although it's about her life and accomplishments, it's also clearly about the reader. It's making me think about my own perceived limits and the importance of testing them, seeing how far back I can push them.

Her take on rest and recovery: "The idea of rest flies in the face of every value I have lived my life by. I should be the last person to preach downtime, having indulged in so little of it during my life before triathlon, but I am fully converted now. I realize it is not the actual sessions of swim, bike and run that make you fitter, it is the periods you spend recovering in between, during which your body adapts and regenerates. That's why I say I train 24/7 - recovery is training. It's the most important part of it, in fact."

Well okay then. If Chrissie says so, I will go back to sitting on the couch.

Five happy things, with asterisks

Five happy things today:

1. My running girls and I had a great six-miler this morning. We started early, headed across town through intense humidity*, conquered at least three steep hills, and wrapped up feeling like we could have gone at least six more miles. Running highs are the exception to the rule for me, so I definitely appreciated this one. I especially appreciated sharing the experience with my friends.

*At least it was relatively cool. Autumn is on the way, and although I am not ready to say goodbye to summer, autumn provides much better running conditions.

2. I have therapy tomorrow, and I am so looking forward to it. It's been two weeks since I last went and I feel like I really need a chance to vent/let loose to someone who will listen in a nonjudgmental way*. I have been seeing this therapist on and off for more than two years. My meetings with him have become an important aspect of my life, even when (especially when?) I'm not in crisis mode. We have a special rapport that I value.

*Because who else is going to let me blather on about myself for the better part of an hour?

3. Peanut butter Larabars topped with melted dark chocolate for dessert*. I don't like most Larabars on their own, but with the chocolate on top, it's like a gluten-free, vegan peanut butter cup.

*I love dessert.

4. I'm looking forward to reading with my son tonight*. We're in the process of establishing a family reading hour before his bedtime. Last night we read for 20 minutes. We'll up that length gradually.

*I love Trashy Town and Cat in the Hat. I can't stand Wacky Wednesday.

5. My husband made dinner. It involved lots of potatoes and it was delicious*.

*I eat like a linebacker. 

Favorite books of the summer

I'm surprised by how much I've read this summer. Don't get me wrong - I LOVE to read, but I'm an awfully picky reader and it's hard for me to find books that I can't put down. Plus, I don't usually have a lot of extra time, so if I'm not into a book, if it's something that I'm only halfhearted about, I usually don't finish it. I hit the jackpot this year, though.

My favorites of summer 2012:

Inspiring biographies:

1. Finding Ultra by Rich Roll: I read the entire thing in nearly one sitting. It was well-written, informative, and inspiring. There's an element of "regular-guy-discovers-the-superhero-within" here that I found irresistable. If you are into running (of ANY distance or speed), and/or if you're interested in veganism, you'll probably enjoy this.

2. Eat and Run by Scott Jurek: Similar in content to Finding Ultra (emphasis on running and veganism), but the writing is a little choppier and less descriptive. Plus, although the title proclaims that Jurek had an "unlikely journey to ultramarathon greatness," given his talent, I'm not sure how unlikely it really was. Nevertheless, it's an interesting biography of how Jurek became one of the world's best ultrarunners. It also offers vegan recipes. And Jurek is clearly a very sincere, hard-working person.

3. Heaven is Here by Stephanie Nielson: Stephanie Nielson, author of the blog "NieNie Dialogues," writes about life before and after a horrific plane crash in which both she and her husband were terribly burned. The book is well-written and - something I particularly appreciated - honest. Nielson expresses a strong faith and resiliency, but she doesn't sugarcoat the hardships associated with recovering from a traumatic accident.

Also, unlike some other books I've read that are authored by bloggers, this one is not simply a collection of recycled blog content. It's a cohesive, thoughtful, fresh synthesis of events that Nielson has touched upon on her blog but didn't explore in this much detail.

4. Driving with Dead People by Monica Holloway: I LOVED this memoir. It was so well written, so engaging, so truthful. It was also incredibly disturbing because it's about an adult coming to terms with child abuse. How Holloway coped with that, how she survived and dealt with brutal betrayal and trauma, is inspiring.

Psychological thrillers:

5. Gone Girl, Sharp Objects, and Dark Places by Gillian Flynn: I read Gone Girl and found it compelling. The approach to the storyline was different from anything else I'd seen, though I wasn't as surprised by the ending as I hoped I might be. Still, I took to Flynn's writing (once I find a voice I like, I tend to read all of that author's work before turning to something new), and followed up with Sharp Objects. That ended up being my favorite of the three. Dark Places was also good, though I wasn't as into it as I was the other two.

Slightly frivolous chick-lit stories that are perfect for long flights:

6. Can I Get an Amen? by Sarah Healy: Sort-of Christian woman is abandoned by her husband, moves back in with her ultra-Christian parents, and tries to navigate a new life. I was skeptical about this one, but what impressed me about it was the way that the author manages to speak to both Christians and non-Christians without alienating anyone. It's modern, non-preachy, and it doesn't stereotype. (Side note: I am not a Christian and the thought of going to church gives me the hives. But I thought the author did an amazing job of reaching out to people regardless of their beliefs.)

7. Where We Belong by Emily Giffin: Total chick-lit, but if you've read any of her other novels, this one is comforting in its familiar tone and topics. It's about two people who, having been separated for 18 years, meet again - and the repercussions/outcomes of that reunion.

What about you? Do you have any favorite books you've read recently?

Mini-Vacation, Days 1 and 2

• Went running with my husband on a well-shaded bike path while my in-laws watched our son. 4.5 miles both days. Difficult. Muggy. Awesome.

• Lemon italian ice outside at dusk. Delicious.

• Beach this morning. My son and I made sandcastles while my husband and in-laws swam. It was really hot, but I'm glad we went because my son was so thrilled to see the ocean. One of my favorite things about being a parent is watching him become totally engrossed in something he's doing, in this case making sand towers and then clapping and squealing as they were knocked down by waves.

• Rum-laced tropical smoothies and delicious salad for dinner.

• 1/4 of the way into a poorly-written book that I can't put down. Best read while sitting in front of an air conditioner or fan because... whew... My husband asked how this is different from the cheap romance novels they sell at the grocery store and why this book is so popular. I don't know, because I've never read those romance novels, but I will say that I think people are generally fascinated when "fringe activities" are brought into the mainstream. And hey, as it turns out, it looks like a lot of people are sort of into those fringe activities... or at least they want to be...

Nirvanaless Wednesday

All the way home, I looked forward to a leisurely 40-minute pre-dinner run/jog. I was feeling energetic and healthy (my cough is finally gone), and I figured the run would be easy. It wasn't. My back ached, my legs felt heavy, and I slogged along at a slower pace than usual. I did stick it out, but I didn't reach blissed-out runner nirvana like I thought I would. Sometimes you just can't tell how it's going to go. At least I did it. I think this weekend will be better. I'm hoping to get outside, run five or six miles in cool, crisp weather, and crunch through some leaves.

In staying-mentally-healthy-and-taking-time-to-smell-the-roses news:

I'm going to go try to finish Hunger Games tonight. I'd heard great things about this series, and so far I'm not disappointed. The pace, the writing, and the characters are all engaging. I love digging into the first book in a series and discovering that I enjoy it because then I have the next few to look forward to. I felt the same way about Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (also awesome, albeit somewhat violent - but violent with a clear purpose... I don't know why it's received such meh reviews on Amazon).