Day 26--"The trouble is, you think you have time."--Buddha

We all talk about time a lot.  There never seems to be enough time to get it all done.  Time moves too slowly when you're stuck at work and moves too quickly every weekend.  We're all really good at wasting time (can we say Facebook, Pinterest, watching multiple reruns of The Big Bang Theory all in a row...).  You wonder where the time went when you realize your baby starts fifth grade in the morning.  Time...

I like inspirational sayings.  I swear sometimes those folks are talking just to me.  Like today, while I was busy wasting time on Pinterest, I stumbled upon a quote from Buddha:  "The trouble is, you think you have time."  And we do, don't we?  We put off so many things because we believe we've got tomorrow, or next weekend or next month.  Maybe we don't call our parents enough, maybe we don't play enough with our kids, maybe we don't exercise because we think we have tomorrow.

What if we don't?

I know there's a local preacher dude and his wife who wrote a book about living each day of your life as if it was the last one.  I'm not big into organized religion, but I totally dig the premise of the book.  Yes, there are things we just can't avoid doing every day because we have bills to pay--working--but there are still plenty of hours in the day and in the week that we could really do better with.  I know I could.  And I can promise you that if today was my last day, if I was about to be out of time, I would have spent the whole day just talking to my daughter.  I would make sure she knew how much I love her, am proud of her, and that I know she's going to have a wonderful life.  I would be more patient, and I would laugh as much as I could.  I would hug her a lot. 

So what if today wasn't my last, but what if I only had a few months?  How would I live my life differently?  How many more chances would I take?  How much time would I waste?

I bought a print from Brian Andreas several years ago, and I credit it with forcing me to make a change in my life, to leave a job that kept me from my daughter. 

There is exactly enough time for the important things in your life.  You just have to decide what they are.

We took a spontaneous trip up Dallas to see the Cowboys play last night.  It was just a preseason game, but the tickets were so cheap, and I knew we wouldn't be able to afford to go again this season, so we decided to go and we went.  And we had a great time, and made some great memories.  Yeah, it was the weekend before school started.  Sure, we still had stuff to do to get ready.  But this was an important thing...making memories with my daughter was an important thing, and there was exactly enough time to take a roadtrip with her.

I'm about 6 weeks away from the Mudder.  I've been sleeping through P90x lately, but I've been hitting the gym faithfully.  I did get my 5 mile run in last week.  6 is on tap this week.  I had a little panic attack today thinking I was running out of time.  That I might not be ready.  That I might not finish the race.  I confess I started coming up with excuses to get out of it.  I do have that trick knee that gave me trouble in the Half, and I have had two bouts of plantar faciaitis over the last several years...I could blame one of those two things.

But then I stopped myself.  I can't give up.  I can't quit.  Not this.  Not anymore.

I have exactly enough time to get ready.  To get ready enough. No one says I have to rock the Mudder.  I just have to survive.  That has always been the goal.

Buddha is still right...I shouldn't walk around everyday thinking I have time. And Brian Andreas is still right...I have enough time for the important things in my life.  The two aren't in conflict because if you live every day like it's your last day, you will make sure you spend it doing what you love with the people you love.

Everyone says "life's too short" or I guess the hipster updated version of that is "YOLO."  Either way, you never know how many tomorrows you have, so if you want something, if you want to change something, if you want to be better, or different, if you want to mend fences or find a lost love, if you want to get closer to your children, or to your parents, if you want to move to Central Park and paint pictures or move to Mexico and braid tourists' hair...just do it.  Because you don't know how many tomorrows you have.

It's time.

Day 25--12 miles in two months

No, I don't mean I have two months to run 12 miles.  Although as slow as I run and as hot as it is, it might just take me that long.  What I mean is in less than two months, I have to be able to run 12 miles.  In the same day.  In addition to making it through 25 obstacles.  The course is terrifying.  Is anyone else laughing out loud as they're reading this, because I'm laughing out loud as I write it.

I did two hours of spin on Saturday.  Got to my class early and rode until class started and then John.The.Spin.God extended class to 75 minutes, so it was a good workout.   Stayed in my grubby, smelly clothes because we were just running errands and sticking around home, and sometime after supper I decided I would take advantage of the folks visiting and head out for a run, something I usually can't do when my kiddo is home with me. 

Told myself I would knock out 5 miles because, as I tell all my reluctant runner friends, running is a mental exercise more than a physical.  Your body can do much more than you give it credit for and, I reasoned, I can do over 2 hours of leg-shredding spin without dying, so heading out for a 5 mile jog should be easy breezy.

And it was, for the first mile, it was.  I was trucking along, listening to my new tunes, feeling very much like a runner.  And then it started to get dark.  The streetlights came on.  The mosquitos started biting.  And my stupid brain filled with about 8 million reasons to quit, to turn around and go home.  I decided louder music would drown out the voices in my head, so I cranked up my iPod even louder, but that just made the voices start screaming, "YOUR LEGS ARE SORE...YOU ALREADY DID 2 HOURS OF SPIN!!"  "IT'S GETTING SCARY DARK OUT HERE...YOU ARE RISKING YOUR LIFE JUST TO RUN??"  "THESE BUGS ARE MAKING IT IMPOSSIBLE TO RUN.  DO YOU WANT TO GET WEST NILE??"  Ignore the voices, ignore the voices, sing louder, sing LOUDER. 

But the voices in my head were relentless, as the voices in your head sometimes are.  And I stopped.  As if I ran into a brick wall.  I turned around, and I jogged back home. 

It wasn't as if I didn't get a good extra workout in...I did.  So I'm not mad at myself and the crazy voices in my head for that.  I just can't believe I listened.  I thought I was tougher than that.  All objective evidence indicated I should have been able to do 5 miles that night.  I know based on personal experience that once you hit your stride and settle into a good pace, you can run and run and run and run Forrest Gump style.  (Not sure where that guy slept when he was running because he missed his Jenny...were we meant to believe he ran 24-7?) 

I learned a lot when I trained for the half marathon back in '09 that I didn't finish because I fell down and busted up my knee, and the most important one was that I could run as far as I believed I could run.  I figured out how to quiet the doubting, negative voices in my head, no matter how loud they screamed at me.  I found my zone, and I stayed in it until my run was done for the day. 

I'm not sure why I couldn't find it on Saturday. 

But I better find it soon.  October 6th is looming on the horizon.  And it won't matter how many one-armed push-ups I can do if I can't run 12 miles.

My next chance to go out and do 5 miles is this weekend.  If you see me running through the neighborhood, and I appear to be talking to myself, I'm not schizophrenic, at least not according to the clinical definition.  I will be telling the voices in my head that want me to wimp out and go home to shut up.  I might have to get downright nasty and pull out some cuss words to get them to really listen, so plug your children's ears if you're out on a family bike ride or after-dinner stroll.  But I'm not going to listen to them this weekend.

Because in less than two months, they're gonna have a whole lot more to yell about.  Fire.  Ice.  Electric Shock.  And if I don't learn to drown them out now, I'll never get my orange headband.  So here's to quieting the voices and just getting it done.

 

Day 24--Karma: even if it takes 24 years, it'll get you.

I don't remember his name, only that he was kind of a quiet kid.  Nice enough, from what I remember, but because I truly believe I've had some sort of memory loss "event" causing me to lose a big chunk of my high school experiences, I don't remember much about the kid.  I just remember that he asked me for a hug one day, and I guess because I was a brat or whatever, I answered, "sorry, fresh out."

Yes, please judge 15 year-old me for that.  She definitely deserves it.  I mean, I can certainly see lots of times where denying a hug request would not only be acceptable, it would be the only option.  Someone covered in bees.  Someone carrying a boa constrictor around his neck.  Someone with a bomb strapped to his chest.  Someone [insert scary or dangerous or even just sticky thing covering or attached to a person].  But, a relatively harmless chap who just needed a hug that day should really have gotten one. 

Don't worry; Karma got me back. 

Friday was a tough day for a few reasons, and I was at Stress Level Midnight.  (Any Michael Scott fans out there--Threat Level Midnight?)  And it wasn't anything I couldn't handle, but it was one of those times when I really missed knowing that someone would be waiting for me at home.  I wasn't missing my ExBf in particular; I was just missing having that other person who would be there to give you a great big hug and tell you everything is going to be alright.

On a really tough day when all I really wanted was a hug, and I didn't have anyone to give me one. 

Karma said, "Sorry, fresh out."  And laughed at how long it took for that one to come back around but very happy the card finally got played.

But the cool thing about Karma is that it apparently holds no long-term grudges.  Meaning that it got me back for the "fresh-out of hugs" mistake of my youth, and then moved on and let me have an amazing happy hour (that last for 6 hours) with great friends.  I had to spin for 2 hours to try and burn off the 6-hour happy hour but it was worth it. 

Now what I'm worried about in the Karma department is the Mudder:  I can't help but laugh when people fall down, slip, trip, stumble, faceplant.  I'm naturally clumsy (or maybe that's Karma's constant influence, getting me back for laughing at others shamelessly), so it doesn't take much for me to trip and fall.  In fact (very embarrassing story alert), I fell down in the shower just Friday.

That was actually the start of the "no hug--Stress Level Midnight" day.  Karma?  Hmmmm...

Yes, my very thorough housekeeper had left my shower very clean, and very, very slippery, and because I started running the water to get it nice and warm, the water and the cleaning stuff mixed to create a surface about as slick as the substance Clark Griswold used on the bottom of his sled in A Christmas Vacation, and I stepped in, and my foot went vertical as I went horizontal, trying to brace myself on the way down but only managing to scratch my arms all to heck.  No permanent damage, and I actually laughed at myself.

Anyway, here comes the Mudder with 25 obstacles, including fire and shocky-thingies and tunnels and mud and ice and on and on...I will wager that I fall down at least 25 times.  And Karma will be laughing each time.

Speaking of showers, I need one because I did another 2 hours of spin today, so I'm off to take one.  It's safe in there now...all the slip-inducing slickness is gone.  So no need to worry.

P90x in the a.m., followed by another shower.  Increasing my chances that Karma might be in a funny mood and take it out on me again.  Maybe I'll invest in some of those grippy little goldfish that kids and old people use in their showers just in case.