I haven't written a "who inspires me" post in a while... But, for the past few weeks I've been itching to put one together. So, here it is, lol.
In the past few months, two friends in particular have actually caused me to hop in excitement and glee. As you may know, I am more likely to be found hopping in anger at my exhusband, so this is huge.
I've actually written about the first, Gary, previously in the context of role models for our family (his two daughters swam for me back in the day). Perhaps because his daughters' competitive swimming careers have ended leaving time and intensity to redirect, or perhaps because Gary is simply a gifted athlete who put his own athletic endeavors on the back burner while focusing on his girls' (wait, that is saying basically the same thing!), Gary has become an amazing inspiration.
A baseball player in his high school and college days, Gary's genes must have mutated to produce swimmers (rumor has it Gary sinks). I noticed Gary beginning to run regularly during his girls' swim practices, and he began to turn up in some local 5ks. I watched his times drop from at least the mid 20s down to close to mine (at the time I ran consistent mid 21s). I was resigned to his beating me at the Gator Bowl 5k some five or so years ago, when an accident at the starting line sent Gary to the ER (a herd of young kids had lined up at the front and one of them cut Gary off, tripping him and causing him to fall face first to the pavement. I went down to avoid stepping on his head, and we were both bleeding and pissed. He hit his head hard.)
That race fiasco seemed to portend a coming medical battle for Gary that left him without a functioning thyroid after what seemed like a long, winding path of diagnosis, assessment, and treatment. Gary's running became disrupted and, as we all contend with as we age, he also dealt with other injuries and life interruptions that prevented him from truly focusing on running. He still did some races, and ran the Gate as well, but it seemed like more for fun than anything, to me.
Fast forward to Thanksgiving 2010, and join Matthew and I in biking the Outback half marathon course, grinning madly and heckling Gary as he ran his first ever half marathon. Gary had signed up for a training class, battled achilles pain, and followed the preparation plan to a T, often putting to shame my own feeble run training efforts.
And he went a 1:48.19 and swore he would never, EVER do anything that crazy again. "Two miles too long" he said. Uh huh.
Three weeks later, he turned 53, and ran the Jacksonville Bank Half Marathon in a 1:43.16.
And all I could think of to do was run up to him and hug him and, yes, hop up and down.
To watch a friend set a goal to challenge himself, make a plan, follow the plan, and achieve his goal is a wonderful thing to me. I can only hope he picks a marathon to tackle that is on a date when we are in town to see it, because there is no doubt in my mind he will achieve that goal as well. Given that Gary tackled a new distance and then came back and OWNED the new distance three weeks later, and that he is doing that while he is, well, OLDER than me, is amazing and inspiring to me. I can't express how fun and impressive it has been to watch him do this...
but wait, there's more!
The same races provided double the inspiration, because my second victim, er, inspirational person, ran the half at the Outback and the full marathon at the Jax Bank.
Mark was not a runner, or really an athlete, when I first met him several years ago. A self-described "master of 12oz curls", Mark decided to try running one day when he and his wife were driving down the road and he saw some runners and noted that "you never see fat runners!"
At first Mark tackled 5ks and his times, which started in the 28 range, if I remember correctly, slowly came down towards the lower 20s. He decided to try the Gate and, over time, became much more confident in his running. Out of the blue one day, at least to us, he announced that he wanted to try a marathon, and Matthew agreed to sign up for last January's Disney race with him. (M ended up breaking and not running).
Mark went to Disney with high hopes but very limited experience in distance running, and came home disappointed with his time (which we thought was an admirable first effort, but which was not what he hoped to achieve). Battling some knee pain, he signed up for, and completed, the Donna marathon a few weeks later, but, again, was not happy with his performance.
At that point, M and I were unsure where he would go from there, as we've seen any number of people who are too stubborn to re-assess training approaches or goals, and end up drifting away from athletics in frustration OR battling chronic injury instead.
When Mark told us he had signed up for at least three marathons between December and May 2011, we knew we would find out shortly, lol. And find out we did. Mark transformed into a runner right before our eyes. He set and followed a smart and serious training plan. He listened to his body. He worked. And worked. And worked some more. He raced a variety of distances and his times started dropping. He stayed healthy, and focused, and realistic.
And when I saw him at the Outback bowl, I grinned from ear to ear, because he was flying and he looked comfortable, fit, and fast. And sure enough, he cranked out a 1:35.33, which, as he noted gleefully, beat my time from last year. And when we talked not long after that, I became convinced that he had the mind-set that would allow him to build off of that fantastic run by continuing to follow his plan both training and race-wise for the coming full marathon.
After I drove around the course of the Jax Bank tracking Gary, and did my first silly hopping fit at the finish with him, Matthew and the girls arrived and we loaded into the truck and zoomed down San Jose a few miles to meet Mark's wife and wait. From text message updates she had sent we knew Mark had a great race going... 1:45 at the half and cruising. When we saw him with a few miles left to go, he looked amazing. And I hopped some more, and we loaded into the truck and flew back to Bolles to catch him at the turn off of San Jose (I'd done the same with Gary, and it was a great place, because from there we could dash to the track, cheer some more, and dash across the track to cheer at the finish).
At that point it became clear that, not only would Mark break 3:30, he would break it easily -- which he did, with a 3:28.07. Yes, he negative split his marathon - and THAT is why I strongly believe that he has not tapped out his progression of times yet. As a 36 year old who just recently started running, I think he will continue to get faster if he can stay injury free. (I think the same thing of Gary, as he is only now starting to explore his ability to push himself at that distance and in training volume. For n Ohio State guy, he is one tough older-than-me-dude!)
When we met Mark at the finish, I hugged him (seriously, I am not a particularly huggy person and neither are Gary or Mark, so you know I was fired up) and, yes, hopped around. I grinned all day long thinking of those two and their personal achievements.
THAT'S what being an athlete is all about -- accepting a personal challenge and doing everything you can to conquer that challenge. The journey we take between those two points IS the point, and is greatly gratifying and rewarding if you have the right attitude. Think of how many people or teams have a goal they work for yet never fully achieve -- most, if not all, at one time or another. The success is in the striving, regardless of the outcome. The achievement is in the effort and dedication. Personal triumph comes from the growth during the journey.
But when you see someone you care about actually set a goal AND achieve it... THAT is magical and energizing. It gives you hope in your own journey.
It makes you hop in joy and inspires you to keep aiming for your own goals.
Thanks, guys ;-)
...that's my why, what's yours?
30 December 2010
All that should matter is WHAT, not WHO you play, lol...
An interesting topic arose in recent weeks with the girls - a topic we have discussed in the past but never quite to this extent. It arose this most recent time because the loser abusive husband of my aforementioned friend (the mirror, mirror post) told her that, in his venerable opinion, I am a lesbian.
I am athletic, and muscular, and have short hair, and, in his esteemed view, nothing could be a bigger club to discredit me with than saying I must be gay.
As an aside, the response I wanted to give to that was "if I were married to you, asshole, I probably WOULD prefer women." But instead I just chuckled.
The topic came up later with the girls because apparently Lim's classmates think one of their female members is a lesbian, although no one seems quite sure why they think that. I shared with them loser-boy's assessment, and they wanted to know if I was mad at him for saying that. Sadly, the answer was "yes, some"...
We talked about how being called gay shouldn't be a big deal, but unfortunately it still IS an effective weapon and one that immediately puts the recipient of the accusation on the defensive. We joked that maybe the gay community picks on each other by calling them straight...? Lim asked what she should say if someone says that to her. I suggested she laugh and say "if it makes you happy to think that, go ahead" or "would you LIKE me to be?" and then move on.
I find it sad, and depressing, that we still have to deal with these things. I have written some about this topic before, because it is one that always seems to come up when you are an athletic female, even now. I don't think it is an accusation used with quite the same frequency against males.... But I suspect there are VERY few female athletes who have not had to hear it made against them.
Perhaps because more people are open about their sexuality, even in high school and college, there is a kind of "guilt by association" factor. If several soccer players are openly gay, the rest of the team is thereby accused of being gay as well. (and again, I submit, who the heck CARES about the sexual orientation of the people around you - shouldn't their values, personality, and code of conduct matter, not the gender of their love interests?! The only thing Lim pointed out was, if you have to shower with a lesbian teammate, isn't that like showering with a guy, because even if the guy doesn't "like" you he will still assuredly check you out, lol. I thought that was an interesting point.)
I hope that Matthew's and my attitude about this topic helps the girls down the road, and helps them diffuse the effectiveness of the accusation. They know that we don't care what their sexual preference is (or the color, gender, or religion of their future partners), we only care what kind of PERSON they (and their partners) are and how they interact with the world around them. They know we don't believe that homosexuality is a choice, or something to be ashamed of or ostracized because of... And they also know that it is only a weapon when the person being attacked allows it to be- if it is clear you don't care what the accuser thinks or says, the fun of attacking you wears thin and the weapon loses it's usefulness.
But, it still pisses me off that, after all this time, that accusation is still being made simply because a woman is athletic or strong or wears her hair a certain way or only dresses up when she WANTS to or needs to... Fine, if you like (or want to be) the dressed-to-the-nines type or the hoochie mama type or the perfectly coiffed-won't-risk-breaking-a-nail type or the suit-wearing-boardroom type or the martha-stewarty type, good for you! But there are plenty of people who like, or like being, athletic women, and that shouldn't threaten you, scare you, or inspire you to question orientation.
IMO.
:-)
...that's my why, what's yours?
I am athletic, and muscular, and have short hair, and, in his esteemed view, nothing could be a bigger club to discredit me with than saying I must be gay.
As an aside, the response I wanted to give to that was "if I were married to you, asshole, I probably WOULD prefer women." But instead I just chuckled.
The topic came up later with the girls because apparently Lim's classmates think one of their female members is a lesbian, although no one seems quite sure why they think that. I shared with them loser-boy's assessment, and they wanted to know if I was mad at him for saying that. Sadly, the answer was "yes, some"...
We talked about how being called gay shouldn't be a big deal, but unfortunately it still IS an effective weapon and one that immediately puts the recipient of the accusation on the defensive. We joked that maybe the gay community picks on each other by calling them straight...? Lim asked what she should say if someone says that to her. I suggested she laugh and say "if it makes you happy to think that, go ahead" or "would you LIKE me to be?" and then move on.
I find it sad, and depressing, that we still have to deal with these things. I have written some about this topic before, because it is one that always seems to come up when you are an athletic female, even now. I don't think it is an accusation used with quite the same frequency against males.... But I suspect there are VERY few female athletes who have not had to hear it made against them.
Perhaps because more people are open about their sexuality, even in high school and college, there is a kind of "guilt by association" factor. If several soccer players are openly gay, the rest of the team is thereby accused of being gay as well. (and again, I submit, who the heck CARES about the sexual orientation of the people around you - shouldn't their values, personality, and code of conduct matter, not the gender of their love interests?! The only thing Lim pointed out was, if you have to shower with a lesbian teammate, isn't that like showering with a guy, because even if the guy doesn't "like" you he will still assuredly check you out, lol. I thought that was an interesting point.)
I hope that Matthew's and my attitude about this topic helps the girls down the road, and helps them diffuse the effectiveness of the accusation. They know that we don't care what their sexual preference is (or the color, gender, or religion of their future partners), we only care what kind of PERSON they (and their partners) are and how they interact with the world around them. They know we don't believe that homosexuality is a choice, or something to be ashamed of or ostracized because of... And they also know that it is only a weapon when the person being attacked allows it to be- if it is clear you don't care what the accuser thinks or says, the fun of attacking you wears thin and the weapon loses it's usefulness.
But, it still pisses me off that, after all this time, that accusation is still being made simply because a woman is athletic or strong or wears her hair a certain way or only dresses up when she WANTS to or needs to... Fine, if you like (or want to be) the dressed-to-the-nines type or the hoochie mama type or the perfectly coiffed-won't-risk-breaking-a-nail type or the suit-wearing-boardroom type or the martha-stewarty type, good for you! But there are plenty of people who like, or like being, athletic women, and that shouldn't threaten you, scare you, or inspire you to question orientation.
IMO.
:-)
...that's my why, what's yours?
25 December 2010
By training, you mean bras, right?
Thank goodness this is the triathlon off-season, because I'm not sure a sprint would be all that easy right now. In fact, I am starting to worry that Lim might successfully knock off M or me at the next 5k or sprint we actually do, lol.
Now, the GIRLS, on the other hand, are clicking along nicely. A great week or more of swimming for both of them, AND Lim started running with some of the older distance runners on EHS' track and cross country team. She thinks she is going to run the cross country 5k tomorrow with Matthew, and then out kick him at the end. Let's just say, Matthew is a little concerned she might be right.
Lim wants to swim M, W, and F mornings from 5:30-7a (with the SENIOR group, none the less) once school comes back. That way she can attend soccer practice and then track practice after school without getting wildly out of swimming shape.
Bim is actually considering doing some morning practices as well. I doubt that one will last past the first 5a wake up, but... it's a major accomplishment that she is even THINKING about it, lol.
Our calendar looks like we have 8 kids. Soccer games, flag football games, swim meets, track meets, triathlons, swim camp... and those are just the girls' events. Don't forget the practices too. Cross reference those with the weekends they are supposed to go to the biofather's and counseling once a week, plus standard issue orthodontist and doctor's appointments. Sprinkle with a couple of road races and triathlons that Matthew and I are signed up for, and the poor calendar is already begging for help. And we're not even IN next year yet, lol.
Next week we have swim practice twice a day, football practice Monday and Wednesday in between swimming, a one day soccer camp for Lim in Gainesville, hair cuts for everyone except me, friends coming for dinner one night, and some surprise the fam won't tell me about on Tuesday. And informal runs with the distance runners each morning before swim. And that's just M-Thursday.
It's hard to believe these are the same kids who were not allowed to participate in organized stuff before two years or so ago, huh.
So, in honor of the off-season, and out of respect for my dearly departed legs, I think I might take next week off of working out. I think Santa is bringing a TRX, and I plan to swim and core train a bit, and run a couple of 5k races, but otherwise, NOTHING. No "training" per se. Just a lot of driving and refilling of water bottles.
Really, Matthew and I are becoming sherpafied domestiques, lol. Meanwhile, we both need to work on our poker faces for the first time Lim thumps us head to head in a race, because it's coming. Bim and Matthew have a match race scheduled in the pool, too... he thinks he can hold her off in a 50 free if she gives him a 5 second head start. He would be the only one surveyed who thinks that, lol. Stay tuned...
...that's my why, what's yours?
Now, the GIRLS, on the other hand, are clicking along nicely. A great week or more of swimming for both of them, AND Lim started running with some of the older distance runners on EHS' track and cross country team. She thinks she is going to run the cross country 5k tomorrow with Matthew, and then out kick him at the end. Let's just say, Matthew is a little concerned she might be right.
Lim wants to swim M, W, and F mornings from 5:30-7a (with the SENIOR group, none the less) once school comes back. That way she can attend soccer practice and then track practice after school without getting wildly out of swimming shape.
Bim is actually considering doing some morning practices as well. I doubt that one will last past the first 5a wake up, but... it's a major accomplishment that she is even THINKING about it, lol.
Our calendar looks like we have 8 kids. Soccer games, flag football games, swim meets, track meets, triathlons, swim camp... and those are just the girls' events. Don't forget the practices too. Cross reference those with the weekends they are supposed to go to the biofather's and counseling once a week, plus standard issue orthodontist and doctor's appointments. Sprinkle with a couple of road races and triathlons that Matthew and I are signed up for, and the poor calendar is already begging for help. And we're not even IN next year yet, lol.
Next week we have swim practice twice a day, football practice Monday and Wednesday in between swimming, a one day soccer camp for Lim in Gainesville, hair cuts for everyone except me, friends coming for dinner one night, and some surprise the fam won't tell me about on Tuesday. And informal runs with the distance runners each morning before swim. And that's just M-Thursday.
It's hard to believe these are the same kids who were not allowed to participate in organized stuff before two years or so ago, huh.
So, in honor of the off-season, and out of respect for my dearly departed legs, I think I might take next week off of working out. I think Santa is bringing a TRX, and I plan to swim and core train a bit, and run a couple of 5k races, but otherwise, NOTHING. No "training" per se. Just a lot of driving and refilling of water bottles.
Really, Matthew and I are becoming sherpafied domestiques, lol. Meanwhile, we both need to work on our poker faces for the first time Lim thumps us head to head in a race, because it's coming. Bim and Matthew have a match race scheduled in the pool, too... he thinks he can hold her off in a 50 free if she gives him a 5 second head start. He would be the only one surveyed who thinks that, lol. Stay tuned...
...that's my why, what's yours?
18 December 2010
3rd and dropping quickly
So, the girls and I went to the Y to swim today (the price they paid for sleeping in this morning and not going to practice after we got back late last night from Disney). I gave them a workout and they swam together in the lane next to me.
And they kicked my ass. Well, ok, the big one kicked my ass. The little one I could hang with if I worked at it.
That's pathetic.
I am now most likely the 3rd fastest swimmer in my own family. I think Bim would certainly beat me in a head to head swim at a sprint like the BFAST (not sure she could beat me, yet, in an Oly or half or full swim, but...) and I suspect Lim will be close to beating me as well. My advantage over her is size and experience, but my guess is she will follow me like a ramora until the last buoy and blow by me at that point. They're both like cold hearted assassins, so I know it is coming.
At least I know I will pass the big one as she leisurely walks from the water to transition (she might consider running if a pack of rabid dogs was chasing her, but not for something like a silly triathlon) and I should still be able to smoke the little one on the bike, for now anyway.
Two or three years from now...? Sigh. The little one has her sights set firmly on a) beating me in a mile run; b) beating me out of the water in a swim; c) beating me in a sprint; and d) beating JC. I think she has a five year plan for all four steps. JC, I'm counting on you, 'cause the first three are gonna tumble like dominoes, lol.
So, there we are in the pool, and the girls finish swimming and are playing around a bit and asking me to work on some stroke and turn stuff with them, which is always fun. Then Bim decides to stand next to me, which is kind of like having an out of body experience and seeing yourself standing next to yourself. Except one version is much younger, with bigger bluer eyes, better hair, a tiny little waist, big broad shoulders, and better skin. Sigh.
So, of course, we argue over who is taller (her), who has broader shoulders (still me), and whose arm muscles are bigger when we flex (her, but mine are more defined). We determine our arms are the same length, and her head is bigger. I could afford to buy boobs, so I won there. Her hands and feet are bigger. My butt is bigger (woohoo). Her wrist is bigger. My legs are still bigger, but more defined. We weigh within a pound or two of each other.
Yikes.
As a reminder, she just turned 13 in September. I am almost 30 years older than her. We also realized she is only 4 years younger than I was when I first met her biofather. Double yikes.
I've heard about mother-daughter jealousy, and I can see how that could happen. As proud as I am when I look at her as a person is as bittersweet as I feel as well. I still remember those years, and those dreams, and the wide open future in front of me. And I look back at choices and decisions I made, relationships I had, and time I wasted, and I get a cold knot in my stomach. That time is long gone for me, and now my own daughters are there, only better. They are happier, healthier, more confident, smarter, more grounded, and more talented than I ever was... they aren't perfect, by any means, but they are in a much better position to realize their dreams and fulfill their potential.
That makes me happy. But it also makes me sad for the old me, and a bit melancholy for the current me. Yes, I have plenty of athletic life ahead of me, and life in general too (hopefully, right... you never know) but the minis are entering that special time when anything is possible -- when you can blare silly music out the window and sing and giggle and get fired up about something as simple as a surprise trip to disney, and you can wear the stylin' clothing and look great and admire yourself in the windows as you walk by... where 30 year old guys look good for an old guy (lol) and what classes you might take next year present a dilemma to deliberate over carefully. They are entering the "it" period of their lives, when they have "it" and know it.
I'm in the "yeah, she's in great shape FOR HER AGE" or "she looks great FOR HER AGE (but did you see her daughter?!)" or "she is fast, FOR HER AGE" period. Which is still better than the "I can't believe she is still doing triathlons AT HER AGE" stage, which is next, lol.
Sigh. Being a mother of two daughters is like looking into a strange time machine looking-glass-y type thing. It's amazing and depressing at the same time. So, yeah, I probably am really annoying when I write about my kids, but it is an expression of... awe... amazement... fascination... at the development of two creatures I gave life to and who have evolved right in front of me from completely dependent, diaper wearing blob like infants to actual human females, with their own personalities, moods, strengths and weaknesses, style, and opinions (which we are ALL welcome to, thank you very much). I find their accomplishments AND foibles fascinating.
Third. Wow. How the hell did that happen so fast?!
...that's my why, what's yours?
And they kicked my ass. Well, ok, the big one kicked my ass. The little one I could hang with if I worked at it.
That's pathetic.
I am now most likely the 3rd fastest swimmer in my own family. I think Bim would certainly beat me in a head to head swim at a sprint like the BFAST (not sure she could beat me, yet, in an Oly or half or full swim, but...) and I suspect Lim will be close to beating me as well. My advantage over her is size and experience, but my guess is she will follow me like a ramora until the last buoy and blow by me at that point. They're both like cold hearted assassins, so I know it is coming.
At least I know I will pass the big one as she leisurely walks from the water to transition (she might consider running if a pack of rabid dogs was chasing her, but not for something like a silly triathlon) and I should still be able to smoke the little one on the bike, for now anyway.
Two or three years from now...? Sigh. The little one has her sights set firmly on a) beating me in a mile run; b) beating me out of the water in a swim; c) beating me in a sprint; and d) beating JC. I think she has a five year plan for all four steps. JC, I'm counting on you, 'cause the first three are gonna tumble like dominoes, lol.
So, there we are in the pool, and the girls finish swimming and are playing around a bit and asking me to work on some stroke and turn stuff with them, which is always fun. Then Bim decides to stand next to me, which is kind of like having an out of body experience and seeing yourself standing next to yourself. Except one version is much younger, with bigger bluer eyes, better hair, a tiny little waist, big broad shoulders, and better skin. Sigh.
So, of course, we argue over who is taller (her), who has broader shoulders (still me), and whose arm muscles are bigger when we flex (her, but mine are more defined). We determine our arms are the same length, and her head is bigger. I could afford to buy boobs, so I won there. Her hands and feet are bigger. My butt is bigger (woohoo). Her wrist is bigger. My legs are still bigger, but more defined. We weigh within a pound or two of each other.
Yikes.
As a reminder, she just turned 13 in September. I am almost 30 years older than her. We also realized she is only 4 years younger than I was when I first met her biofather. Double yikes.
I've heard about mother-daughter jealousy, and I can see how that could happen. As proud as I am when I look at her as a person is as bittersweet as I feel as well. I still remember those years, and those dreams, and the wide open future in front of me. And I look back at choices and decisions I made, relationships I had, and time I wasted, and I get a cold knot in my stomach. That time is long gone for me, and now my own daughters are there, only better. They are happier, healthier, more confident, smarter, more grounded, and more talented than I ever was... they aren't perfect, by any means, but they are in a much better position to realize their dreams and fulfill their potential.
That makes me happy. But it also makes me sad for the old me, and a bit melancholy for the current me. Yes, I have plenty of athletic life ahead of me, and life in general too (hopefully, right... you never know) but the minis are entering that special time when anything is possible -- when you can blare silly music out the window and sing and giggle and get fired up about something as simple as a surprise trip to disney, and you can wear the stylin' clothing and look great and admire yourself in the windows as you walk by... where 30 year old guys look good for an old guy (lol) and what classes you might take next year present a dilemma to deliberate over carefully. They are entering the "it" period of their lives, when they have "it" and know it.
I'm in the "yeah, she's in great shape FOR HER AGE" or "she looks great FOR HER AGE (but did you see her daughter?!)" or "she is fast, FOR HER AGE" period. Which is still better than the "I can't believe she is still doing triathlons AT HER AGE" stage, which is next, lol.
Sigh. Being a mother of two daughters is like looking into a strange time machine looking-glass-y type thing. It's amazing and depressing at the same time. So, yeah, I probably am really annoying when I write about my kids, but it is an expression of... awe... amazement... fascination... at the development of two creatures I gave life to and who have evolved right in front of me from completely dependent, diaper wearing blob like infants to actual human females, with their own personalities, moods, strengths and weaknesses, style, and opinions (which we are ALL welcome to, thank you very much). I find their accomplishments AND foibles fascinating.
Third. Wow. How the hell did that happen so fast?!
...that's my why, what's yours?
15 December 2010
Life takes effort!
Now that the girls are safely submerged in a toasty warm pool, I am going to try and put into words the last thought I mentioned in my previous blog. Warning: this is an extremely opinionated blog that talks in generalizations and makes some sweeping statements. It is my opinion and it is not written with any one or ones in mind. You, as a reader, will have your own opinions and your own choices to make as a human and parent, and you are free to blog about them and your reasoning as well :-)
So today's topic, in short, is: when did we become such a LAZY society?
What do I mean...? Simply put, when did so many people decide it was too much trouble to give a damn about some important things?
In no particular order, and nowhere near a complete list:
1. Personal appearance/fitness - (obviously many of you reading this don't fall into this category).
When did it become ok, or even flauntable, to be rippling with fat?
When did we decide as a society that the effort required to eat healthfully (at a minimum) was too much? We are "too busy" or "too tired" to cook a family meal, so we run through a fast food take out lane or grab the fastest (often least healthful) alternative. Note we are not too busy or tired to facebook or watch our reality shows, just to have a decently planned meal or a reasonably balanced diet of sufficient, not excessive, calories.
When did we decide that the effort to maintain a healthy, or even semi-unhealthy, weight and level of fitness was too much to ask? It's not genetic, it's not lack of time (for most people), it's not lack of access or information - plain and simple, people cannot be bothered to make an effort anymore. No longer do I look around a pool deck full of kids aged 10-18 and notice the out of place overweight kid. Now we look around and marvel at the handful of athletically built kids who don't sport cellulite at 12. How is that possible? I've been at water parks and spent hours searching in vain for the sligtest hint of a fellow athlete, or even a handful of people who give a damn enough to at least TRY.
There is no excuse. There is no explanation beyond laziness. We don't care enough to make the effort to care enough, never-mind making the effort to do something about it. We are too lazy to exert self-discipline or self-control over what and how much we eat and how we spend our time. And more and more, the people who do care and make an effort stand out like circus freaks - look honey, it's one of them tryathelite guys, you know them people thats exerciszin and eatin them weird foods and wearin spandex... Gee honey, why don't you get you one of them pairs of stretchy shorts too?! now git me another beer!
Ick.
2. Parenting - I've written a fair amount about this one. Lazy parents don't want to upset the kids, because then it takes effort and willpower to stand strong in the face of a 2, 10, 22 yo's temper tantrum. Lazy parents say yes because it is easier, they think, than saying no. They treat toddlers like pre-teens and pre-teens like adults and all of them like friends rather than wards. They are too busy or self-absorbed to pay a kid attention, right up until something goes wrong, and then they swoop in yelling and threatening and throwing their weight around to get things fixed. They don't want to have to waste their time and energy enforcing standards so they set none. They can't wait till the kids are old enough to leave home alone, or old enough to drive, or old enough to get a job to pay for gas... Because it is too tiring or boring or much to ask of a parent to be tied to a child or have to drive him to his activities. They buy tvs and computers and small fridges for the kids' rooms because it is easier to stash them somewhere out of the way and let them decide what to eat and drink and do than it is to monitor and teach and guide and limit. They plop them in front of mindless tv shows and computer games from as early an age as possible because, let's face it, it is a lot less work to anesthetize a kid than it is to interact. And, besides, playing dolls or cards or building things with blocks is
B. O. R. I. N. G. compared to all the great websites and tv shows and phone conversations we could be spending our important time on, right?
Being a parent is exhausting physically, draining emotionally, and demanding financially. It has been thus since the invention of infants. It should not come as a surprise to new parents. It is the single most important contribution most of us will ever make to society. Your influence as a parent on your child expands far past the child himself, for everyone your chilc interacts with is then touched by the results of your original influence. Every choice we make in life has an endless ripple effect in the world. All we can control is our individual input into that ripple. How we raise our children causes gigantic ripples. One would think the gravity of that would instill a serious sense of responsibility and honor to a parent. Instead, so many see it as a burden... A weight to be shouldered as infrequently as we can get away with...a responsibility many don't seem to want once they have and many seem to spend their lives trying to minimize.
Society today seems to be wonderful at providing "lip service" to being responsible, involved, consistent parents... But beneath all the talk lies a gaping hole where the actual effort used to be. So many kids seem to recognize this about their parents... And if your own parent doesn't care, why should you? If it is too much trouble for your own parent to hold you up to certain standards of behavior, dress, language, performance, morals, etc, then why on earth should YOU, as the kid, make the effort?
3. Professionally - An anecdotal example: the girls and I were stopped at a light, and an older gentleman was sweeping the ground near the gas pumps at a gas station. The girls asked why he was doing that, and I commented that I had seen him out doing that several times, and that he was very friendly when I stopped for gas one day. I said that it was nice to see someone take pride in their job and place of employment. The girls couldn't understand why someone would care about the general appearance of a gas station, and, wasn't it just going to get cluttered and dirty again anyway?! That spawned a conversation about pride in performance and that, regardless of your position in life, the key to success is to take pride in your world and work. Otherwise, at what point does anything start to matter, and where do you find your sense of purpose? So much of so many peoples' life is spent working - how sad is it to spend that time but take no pride in what you are doing? Yet, for so many people, it just isn't worth the effort.
On a personal note, I know there are things about me that, while very important to others, are not important enough to me to put much effort into - so in their mind, I am lazy too. I don't put much effort into dressing myself, unless there is a damn good reason to do so. I prefer sweatshirts and jeans to anything approaching style. Lazy me. I also don't find much reason to invest energy in having a stylish, tricked out house or decorating style, fancy furniture, trinkets etc. Very lazy me.
Ultimately, I guess we all have to pick what we put our energy into and what is important, and decide how that works out for us. In the meantime, I feel much better having blown off steam writing this instead of swimming. See? Lazy!
...that's my why, what's yours?
So today's topic, in short, is: when did we become such a LAZY society?
What do I mean...? Simply put, when did so many people decide it was too much trouble to give a damn about some important things?
In no particular order, and nowhere near a complete list:
1. Personal appearance/fitness - (obviously many of you reading this don't fall into this category).
When did it become ok, or even flauntable, to be rippling with fat?
When did we decide as a society that the effort required to eat healthfully (at a minimum) was too much? We are "too busy" or "too tired" to cook a family meal, so we run through a fast food take out lane or grab the fastest (often least healthful) alternative. Note we are not too busy or tired to facebook or watch our reality shows, just to have a decently planned meal or a reasonably balanced diet of sufficient, not excessive, calories.
When did we decide that the effort to maintain a healthy, or even semi-unhealthy, weight and level of fitness was too much to ask? It's not genetic, it's not lack of time (for most people), it's not lack of access or information - plain and simple, people cannot be bothered to make an effort anymore. No longer do I look around a pool deck full of kids aged 10-18 and notice the out of place overweight kid. Now we look around and marvel at the handful of athletically built kids who don't sport cellulite at 12. How is that possible? I've been at water parks and spent hours searching in vain for the sligtest hint of a fellow athlete, or even a handful of people who give a damn enough to at least TRY.
There is no excuse. There is no explanation beyond laziness. We don't care enough to make the effort to care enough, never-mind making the effort to do something about it. We are too lazy to exert self-discipline or self-control over what and how much we eat and how we spend our time. And more and more, the people who do care and make an effort stand out like circus freaks - look honey, it's one of them tryathelite guys, you know them people thats exerciszin and eatin them weird foods and wearin spandex... Gee honey, why don't you get you one of them pairs of stretchy shorts too?! now git me another beer!
Ick.
2. Parenting - I've written a fair amount about this one. Lazy parents don't want to upset the kids, because then it takes effort and willpower to stand strong in the face of a 2, 10, 22 yo's temper tantrum. Lazy parents say yes because it is easier, they think, than saying no. They treat toddlers like pre-teens and pre-teens like adults and all of them like friends rather than wards. They are too busy or self-absorbed to pay a kid attention, right up until something goes wrong, and then they swoop in yelling and threatening and throwing their weight around to get things fixed. They don't want to have to waste their time and energy enforcing standards so they set none. They can't wait till the kids are old enough to leave home alone, or old enough to drive, or old enough to get a job to pay for gas... Because it is too tiring or boring or much to ask of a parent to be tied to a child or have to drive him to his activities. They buy tvs and computers and small fridges for the kids' rooms because it is easier to stash them somewhere out of the way and let them decide what to eat and drink and do than it is to monitor and teach and guide and limit. They plop them in front of mindless tv shows and computer games from as early an age as possible because, let's face it, it is a lot less work to anesthetize a kid than it is to interact. And, besides, playing dolls or cards or building things with blocks is
B. O. R. I. N. G. compared to all the great websites and tv shows and phone conversations we could be spending our important time on, right?
Being a parent is exhausting physically, draining emotionally, and demanding financially. It has been thus since the invention of infants. It should not come as a surprise to new parents. It is the single most important contribution most of us will ever make to society. Your influence as a parent on your child expands far past the child himself, for everyone your chilc interacts with is then touched by the results of your original influence. Every choice we make in life has an endless ripple effect in the world. All we can control is our individual input into that ripple. How we raise our children causes gigantic ripples. One would think the gravity of that would instill a serious sense of responsibility and honor to a parent. Instead, so many see it as a burden... A weight to be shouldered as infrequently as we can get away with...a responsibility many don't seem to want once they have and many seem to spend their lives trying to minimize.
Society today seems to be wonderful at providing "lip service" to being responsible, involved, consistent parents... But beneath all the talk lies a gaping hole where the actual effort used to be. So many kids seem to recognize this about their parents... And if your own parent doesn't care, why should you? If it is too much trouble for your own parent to hold you up to certain standards of behavior, dress, language, performance, morals, etc, then why on earth should YOU, as the kid, make the effort?
3. Professionally - An anecdotal example: the girls and I were stopped at a light, and an older gentleman was sweeping the ground near the gas pumps at a gas station. The girls asked why he was doing that, and I commented that I had seen him out doing that several times, and that he was very friendly when I stopped for gas one day. I said that it was nice to see someone take pride in their job and place of employment. The girls couldn't understand why someone would care about the general appearance of a gas station, and, wasn't it just going to get cluttered and dirty again anyway?! That spawned a conversation about pride in performance and that, regardless of your position in life, the key to success is to take pride in your world and work. Otherwise, at what point does anything start to matter, and where do you find your sense of purpose? So much of so many peoples' life is spent working - how sad is it to spend that time but take no pride in what you are doing? Yet, for so many people, it just isn't worth the effort.
On a personal note, I know there are things about me that, while very important to others, are not important enough to me to put much effort into - so in their mind, I am lazy too. I don't put much effort into dressing myself, unless there is a damn good reason to do so. I prefer sweatshirts and jeans to anything approaching style. Lazy me. I also don't find much reason to invest energy in having a stylish, tricked out house or decorating style, fancy furniture, trinkets etc. Very lazy me.
Ultimately, I guess we all have to pick what we put our energy into and what is important, and decide how that works out for us. In the meantime, I feel much better having blown off steam writing this instead of swimming. See? Lazy!
...that's my why, what's yours?
it's not brain surgery, it's parenting...
"Mommy, why don't more parents care about what their kids do?"
How's THAT for an interesting question from a standard issue 11 year old?
She followed that up with "if it's this bad now, imagine what it will be like when I have kids."
(By the way, this is, to me, empirical evidence that kids really DO listen, and absorb, what their parents say to them IF they follow up the words with actions.)
What spurred this particular conversation? Lim's experience at a recent sleep-over party with some school friends.
Now, we've hosted some massive sleep overs and some mini sleep-overs, so the main role model the girls have for sleep-over protocol comes from our house. Right, wrong, or indifferent, we maintain a hands-on approach to having guests. There is not a free flow of junk food, and we vet TV and movie consumption. And, the computer is off-limits.
We don't really go to bed until things quiet down, and (thanks to all the german shepherd ears and instincts in the house, mine included) it would be difficult for much to go on without waking at least 3 members of the household up, immediately. It is a close call to say who growls with more authority at 3a, Mia or me.
We try to make sure, without hovering, that all kids are involved and included, and that everyone has what they need (within reason) to have a good, comfortable time. If there is the slightest question about a tv show or movie as to appropriateness or whether anyone's parent would not want them watching, we default to "no". This is not difficult stuff -- when the 13yo contingent discussed watching The Breakfast Club but someone wasn't sure if it would be ok, they were told to pick another one, and I think they picked a cartoon movie. Deep down, these kids are still kids.
Anyway...it was with reluctance I let Lim go to this particular sleepover as I had gotten a very weird feeling from speaking with the hostess' mother (the first time I EVER spoke to her she babbled for almost an hour, and only exposure to it would explain it, as the girls didn't really "get it" until they met her...but they do now, lol). But, enough girls were going that I figured it would be ok.
In some ways Lim had a lot of fun. However, sleeping alone on a couch because the disagreement over who was sleeping where that ensued at 2a (4 hours after the adults had retired to bed in another wing of the house) went unresolved by any adult intervention, and, the next morning, having to choose to remove herself from the room and wait, alone, downstairs because the kids put on (with the host mother's permission) a movie Lim knows she may not watch were two of the several things that gave Lim (and me) pause.
To L's immense credit, she chose to leave the room and call me rather than stay and lie to me (via omission or commission) about the movie (Vampire's Suck... PG13 and chock full of raunchy sexual humor and situations). I was proud of her for that, but completely astounded that a parent would either be so oblivious or so... uncaring... as to allow that situation to continue. The mother knew Lim was downstairs, alone, as did the daughter, but downstairs alone she remained until I picked her up.
It was the ensuing conversation between Lim and me that resulted in her insightful quotes. I asked her if it bothered her that I had rules like that, and she said "no, I think it's stupid other moms don't" (I replied, "good, because even if it did bother you the rules would still be there" lol). She told me how the girl whose party it was was bragging about watching rated R movies and such (which of course may or may not be true, as I pointed out to Lim... but Lim amazingly brags about how she is NOT allowed to watch them... I've truly raised strange kids) and it seemed to bother her that the other kids felt that their mothers would tell them it was ok and their fathers wouldn't care anyway.
Am I the only one who finds that not only sad but deeply worrisome? Have we become such a...lazy? scared? spineless? society that we basically are afraid to discipline or place limits on our children? YES it takes effort, and resolve, and thick skin at times. YES it means your kids may not like you for a few minutes, or even a few hours. YES it means you have to stop what you are doing and PAY ATTENTION to what is going on around you. Yes, it means giving up sleep sometimes. It means putting yourself second, or third, or last. It means filling your life with what can feel like menial or tedious concerns (woohoo, art projects, making lunches, and folding laundry! That law degree is sure paying off now!) instead of just doing what you want to do, when you want to do it. It means not returning that phone call or text message right away because your child is speaking to you and needs you to listen.
Being a parent is not supposed to be a popularity contest. The basic 11 year old is going to say someone is mean if that someone doesn't allow them to have 6 donuts for breakfast (btw, breakfast at the sleepover: donuts, muffins, and bacon). In other words, consider the source, lol. When did parents decide they would do anything, be anything, ALLOW anything just to placate their kids? When did parents stop paying attention?
Is facebook, or a tv show, or a hair appointment, or tennis league, or the gossip from a friend, or a job, or shopping, or sleeping, or ANYTHING really so much more important that adults feel justified in abdicating the very important role of parent? How did we get to the point where parents will do ANYTHING to keep their little darling from experiencing frustration, disappointment, or delayed gratification?
Yes, we all have different ideas of how to raise our kids, and what is appropriate at what age etc. (It really does vary with each child, too. Christi can handle death and violence; Lexi cries when penguins die on March of the Penguins.) I am not going to pass judgment (well, publicly anyway, lol) on what other parents choose to allow their kids to do and watch. BUT, I do think it is basic courtesy to be paying enough attention to the world around you, and what your kids are doing - to recognize that not everyone is the same and to endeavor to respect that.
Our world just seems filled with oblivious people -- and being oblivious to those around you is a form of selfish laziness. And maybe that is a great topic for another post -- the pervasive, destructive lazy factor that has seeped into every aspect of so many lives: personal, professional, parenting. Alas, that post will have to wait, as Lim has finally emerged from her cocoon and a hug and breakfast beckons.
...that's my why, what's yours?
How's THAT for an interesting question from a standard issue 11 year old?
She followed that up with "if it's this bad now, imagine what it will be like when I have kids."
(By the way, this is, to me, empirical evidence that kids really DO listen, and absorb, what their parents say to them IF they follow up the words with actions.)
What spurred this particular conversation? Lim's experience at a recent sleep-over party with some school friends.
Now, we've hosted some massive sleep overs and some mini sleep-overs, so the main role model the girls have for sleep-over protocol comes from our house. Right, wrong, or indifferent, we maintain a hands-on approach to having guests. There is not a free flow of junk food, and we vet TV and movie consumption. And, the computer is off-limits.
We don't really go to bed until things quiet down, and (thanks to all the german shepherd ears and instincts in the house, mine included) it would be difficult for much to go on without waking at least 3 members of the household up, immediately. It is a close call to say who growls with more authority at 3a, Mia or me.
We try to make sure, without hovering, that all kids are involved and included, and that everyone has what they need (within reason) to have a good, comfortable time. If there is the slightest question about a tv show or movie as to appropriateness or whether anyone's parent would not want them watching, we default to "no". This is not difficult stuff -- when the 13yo contingent discussed watching The Breakfast Club but someone wasn't sure if it would be ok, they were told to pick another one, and I think they picked a cartoon movie. Deep down, these kids are still kids.
Anyway...it was with reluctance I let Lim go to this particular sleepover as I had gotten a very weird feeling from speaking with the hostess' mother (the first time I EVER spoke to her she babbled for almost an hour, and only exposure to it would explain it, as the girls didn't really "get it" until they met her...but they do now, lol). But, enough girls were going that I figured it would be ok.
In some ways Lim had a lot of fun. However, sleeping alone on a couch because the disagreement over who was sleeping where that ensued at 2a (4 hours after the adults had retired to bed in another wing of the house) went unresolved by any adult intervention, and, the next morning, having to choose to remove herself from the room and wait, alone, downstairs because the kids put on (with the host mother's permission) a movie Lim knows she may not watch were two of the several things that gave Lim (and me) pause.
To L's immense credit, she chose to leave the room and call me rather than stay and lie to me (via omission or commission) about the movie (Vampire's Suck... PG13 and chock full of raunchy sexual humor and situations). I was proud of her for that, but completely astounded that a parent would either be so oblivious or so... uncaring... as to allow that situation to continue. The mother knew Lim was downstairs, alone, as did the daughter, but downstairs alone she remained until I picked her up.
It was the ensuing conversation between Lim and me that resulted in her insightful quotes. I asked her if it bothered her that I had rules like that, and she said "no, I think it's stupid other moms don't" (I replied, "good, because even if it did bother you the rules would still be there" lol). She told me how the girl whose party it was was bragging about watching rated R movies and such (which of course may or may not be true, as I pointed out to Lim... but Lim amazingly brags about how she is NOT allowed to watch them... I've truly raised strange kids) and it seemed to bother her that the other kids felt that their mothers would tell them it was ok and their fathers wouldn't care anyway.
Am I the only one who finds that not only sad but deeply worrisome? Have we become such a...lazy? scared? spineless? society that we basically are afraid to discipline or place limits on our children? YES it takes effort, and resolve, and thick skin at times. YES it means your kids may not like you for a few minutes, or even a few hours. YES it means you have to stop what you are doing and PAY ATTENTION to what is going on around you. Yes, it means giving up sleep sometimes. It means putting yourself second, or third, or last. It means filling your life with what can feel like menial or tedious concerns (woohoo, art projects, making lunches, and folding laundry! That law degree is sure paying off now!) instead of just doing what you want to do, when you want to do it. It means not returning that phone call or text message right away because your child is speaking to you and needs you to listen.
Being a parent is not supposed to be a popularity contest. The basic 11 year old is going to say someone is mean if that someone doesn't allow them to have 6 donuts for breakfast (btw, breakfast at the sleepover: donuts, muffins, and bacon). In other words, consider the source, lol. When did parents decide they would do anything, be anything, ALLOW anything just to placate their kids? When did parents stop paying attention?
Is facebook, or a tv show, or a hair appointment, or tennis league, or the gossip from a friend, or a job, or shopping, or sleeping, or ANYTHING really so much more important that adults feel justified in abdicating the very important role of parent? How did we get to the point where parents will do ANYTHING to keep their little darling from experiencing frustration, disappointment, or delayed gratification?
Yes, we all have different ideas of how to raise our kids, and what is appropriate at what age etc. (It really does vary with each child, too. Christi can handle death and violence; Lexi cries when penguins die on March of the Penguins.) I am not going to pass judgment (well, publicly anyway, lol) on what other parents choose to allow their kids to do and watch. BUT, I do think it is basic courtesy to be paying enough attention to the world around you, and what your kids are doing - to recognize that not everyone is the same and to endeavor to respect that.
Our world just seems filled with oblivious people -- and being oblivious to those around you is a form of selfish laziness. And maybe that is a great topic for another post -- the pervasive, destructive lazy factor that has seeped into every aspect of so many lives: personal, professional, parenting. Alas, that post will have to wait, as Lim has finally emerged from her cocoon and a hug and breakfast beckons.
...that's my why, what's yours?
08 December 2010
The "off" season
I think they call it the off season because the engine powering my motivation is turned off. My mental strength is off. My sense of purpose is off. My "why", while not exactly "off", has apparently taken a leave of absence. (Leaving it, well, OFF).
I had great intentions for this month. I wanted to keep up my swim base, add back in weight and core work, and do some middle distance speed work running (for me that equates to 6-8 miles). There have even been some short stretches where I've accomplished a day or two or those goals, but life and cold temperatures and the "vacancy" sign hanging where my discipline used to be are conspiring against me.
And maybe that is not such a bad thing. Maybe backing off the intensity and regimented world of triathlon training will benefit me long term. It's hard for me to accept that mentally, but it does seem to be physically true.
I cannot just not work out. BUT, giving myself permission to do what feels right, and to be flexible, is a big step for me. Even after all this time I still feel, at times, like a good shove will push me off the "healthy" cliff and back into the gaping canyon of unhealthy eating habits and body image that is the purview of most serious adult female athletes. So, it is ironic and annoying that the triathlon off-season just HAPPENS to fall over the extended buffet table that is the holiday season.
It seems like a good sign that I am starting to periodically and sporadically chomp at the proverbial bit to get back into a training routine and start working towards my season goals. In theory, I'd like to go after IMKY again, to make up for what I am slowly admitting was a disappointing performance this year. Let's face it, a top run training distance of 10 miles, and not many of those, is just not going to cut it for a decent run in that heat. I feel like my focus was off and, even though much of that was not my doing, it pisses me off. I know a better race is there.
BUT...the reality needs to be different than the theoretical this year. I've decided to work on what little speed I have and focus on Olympic distance this year. Changing up the training will help me mentally and physically. Plus, I just don't trust that the issues that diverted my focus last year won't rise up again, even worse. I don't think it would be smart to go for another IM until I am fairly confident the situation with the girls and their biofather is stable. Even then, the timing of the race will need to be well planned out given their increasing involvement in athletic endeavors of their own.
In some ways, downgrading the distance and changing the training will present a huge challenge, because I know I can race a decent Oly right now, at 5:40p on December 8th, without any additional thought or training. The motivating factors of fear of not finishing or fear of walking an entire marathon just are not there. I suspect it will be easier to talk myself into letting a workout slide or dropping intensity on a tired day. Terror, the prime motivator in IM training, will be lacking.
Then there is the thought, lurking in the back of my mind, that now (and for the next 6 years) the focus should be squarely on the girls and their goals, and that mine should be shelved for the duration. If I cannot find a combination of flexibility and meaningful yet adjustable goals, shelving it is exactly what will happen. Right now I am not super good at setting a goal and then accepting that outside factors might force me to adjust that goal (ie morphing gracefully from aiming for a certain finish place or time to being content to simply participate), and I need to reach that place soon. The decision to not race Worlds was made easier, such as it was, by the fact that I seriously doubted whether I could have a good race at that point anyway, and I was not finding satisfaction or enjoyment in the concept of just being there.
Since our schedule is now both more complicated AND less settled than the past two years, it is hard to predict much past May1st (the only event I have registered for so far for next season).
This wasn't a very profound posting, lol. More an idle musing while I contemplate life, relationships, and the right course to follow for my girls (and M and me, of course).
Oh, Matthew thinks I need some witty tag line to sign off with after each post, so...
...that's my why, what's yours?
I had great intentions for this month. I wanted to keep up my swim base, add back in weight and core work, and do some middle distance speed work running (for me that equates to 6-8 miles). There have even been some short stretches where I've accomplished a day or two or those goals, but life and cold temperatures and the "vacancy" sign hanging where my discipline used to be are conspiring against me.
And maybe that is not such a bad thing. Maybe backing off the intensity and regimented world of triathlon training will benefit me long term. It's hard for me to accept that mentally, but it does seem to be physically true.
I cannot just not work out. BUT, giving myself permission to do what feels right, and to be flexible, is a big step for me. Even after all this time I still feel, at times, like a good shove will push me off the "healthy" cliff and back into the gaping canyon of unhealthy eating habits and body image that is the purview of most serious adult female athletes. So, it is ironic and annoying that the triathlon off-season just HAPPENS to fall over the extended buffet table that is the holiday season.
It seems like a good sign that I am starting to periodically and sporadically chomp at the proverbial bit to get back into a training routine and start working towards my season goals. In theory, I'd like to go after IMKY again, to make up for what I am slowly admitting was a disappointing performance this year. Let's face it, a top run training distance of 10 miles, and not many of those, is just not going to cut it for a decent run in that heat. I feel like my focus was off and, even though much of that was not my doing, it pisses me off. I know a better race is there.
BUT...the reality needs to be different than the theoretical this year. I've decided to work on what little speed I have and focus on Olympic distance this year. Changing up the training will help me mentally and physically. Plus, I just don't trust that the issues that diverted my focus last year won't rise up again, even worse. I don't think it would be smart to go for another IM until I am fairly confident the situation with the girls and their biofather is stable. Even then, the timing of the race will need to be well planned out given their increasing involvement in athletic endeavors of their own.
In some ways, downgrading the distance and changing the training will present a huge challenge, because I know I can race a decent Oly right now, at 5:40p on December 8th, without any additional thought or training. The motivating factors of fear of not finishing or fear of walking an entire marathon just are not there. I suspect it will be easier to talk myself into letting a workout slide or dropping intensity on a tired day. Terror, the prime motivator in IM training, will be lacking.
Then there is the thought, lurking in the back of my mind, that now (and for the next 6 years) the focus should be squarely on the girls and their goals, and that mine should be shelved for the duration. If I cannot find a combination of flexibility and meaningful yet adjustable goals, shelving it is exactly what will happen. Right now I am not super good at setting a goal and then accepting that outside factors might force me to adjust that goal (ie morphing gracefully from aiming for a certain finish place or time to being content to simply participate), and I need to reach that place soon. The decision to not race Worlds was made easier, such as it was, by the fact that I seriously doubted whether I could have a good race at that point anyway, and I was not finding satisfaction or enjoyment in the concept of just being there.
Since our schedule is now both more complicated AND less settled than the past two years, it is hard to predict much past May1st (the only event I have registered for so far for next season).
This wasn't a very profound posting, lol. More an idle musing while I contemplate life, relationships, and the right course to follow for my girls (and M and me, of course).
Oh, Matthew thinks I need some witty tag line to sign off with after each post, so...
...that's my why, what's yours?
07 December 2010
Mirror, mirror
Well, it certainly has been a while... Almost a month, actually. There's a lot I'd love to write about, and a lot I CAN'T write about on here, unfortunately.
I've been thinking about what other people see when looking in the mirror, and how closely that image reflects reality, or at least the reality of what those who know them actually see.
That (what others see) can be very misleading, incomplete, or even inaccurate, of course... So I guess the "reality" of our identity really changes with the eye of the beholder, and the tenor of that reality changes with the motivations and attitude of said beholder.
That gives other people a LOT of power over us if we do not have a clear sense of who we are, why we are, and where we are going.
Interact with the wrong person - one inclined to negatively spin things, either overtly or covertly in a manipulative fashion - and our grasp of our own persona changes perceptibly. Pick the wrong mirror and you see failure rather than achievement, age rather than strength, disappointment rather than accomplishment. Everything about who you are will darken and shrivel.
Find the right mirror, and you and your world brighten, and the wrinkles become character, the point becomes the journey rather than the result, and you become much less critical of that reflection you see each day.
Having experienced emotional abuse of varying degrees at different times in my life, and now, finally, living in a world where my main mirror seems to focus on my good features while reflecting my bad back with acceptance rather than judgment, I am VERY sensitive to the topic.
I think of emotional abuse as living in a world full of funhouse mirrors - the kind that distort from every angle, unexectedly and inaccurately, and always with the intention of keeping you from truly seeing yourself. Funhouse mirrors take your best feature and turn it grotesque. They reflect you in ways that become disorienting. They take an element of your true reflection and twist it, leaving it barely recognizeable. They give me a headache and make me uncomfortable and self-conscious.
So too the emotional abuser.
A friend of mine is so firmly entrenched in that funhouse that I am at wits end as to how to reach her. No reasoning or logic or pointing out of her husband's insane behavior registers with her. She defaults to blaming herself and worrying about doing anything to make the situation worse by upsetting him further. Without getting into gory details, the whole thing sickens me - in part because I cannot get through to her, in part because it is so awful and crazy that I can't believe she won't take control of her life, and in part because, for a brief time four years or so ago, I WAS her. How she has lived like this for 20+ years is beyond me. Twelve months, to the day, of that hell about did me in - but it also made me stronger once I recognized it and fought back.
And there-in lies the key. Too many of us choose, and accept, the reflections that mirror our own fears. For some reason, many of us allow ourselves to be susceptible to people whose motives are destructive rather than constructive or supportive. So many people in this world seem to mask their own unhappiness or lack of fulfillment by undermining the people around them. We all know the person who is adept at taking the wind out of sails... Who uses passive-aggressive (or outright aggressive) words and actions to influence or control or slant the reflection you see. We all know someone who, rather than take pride in their own accomplishments or world, seems to take pride in diminishing yours.
I can tell when I've spent too much time looking into the wrong mirrors. The person I think I am becomes less confident, less comfortable in her own skin and world. I see all the signs of aging, feel unfit no matter how hard the workout, hate my hair and clothing, cringe at my times and performances in races, feel pointless and deeply flawed as a person... I see a failure, in many ways, and waves of discontent wash over me. All my fears and insecurities shine in that mirror.
When I am blessed enough to find a positive reflection, the cloud of doubt dissipates and the image I see looking back at me seems softer and less flawed somehow. Same exact person- completely different paradigm.
Who we grant the power to paint our image says a lot about ourselves and perceptibly affects our present and future. How many goals and dreams have gone by the wayside because we got lost in the funhouse, or even in a place where just one cracked mirror held sway over our world? What paths might we have followed and experiences might we have enjoyed had we picked the right reflection to believe? How much time have we wasted trying to disprove an image that isn't really ours anyway?
The image I saw looking back took on so many more colors and such greater depth when I finally found the right mirror to look into regularly. The path my life (and the girls' as well) travels now and who we think we are as people improved and broadened when we met Matthew. I don't always like who I see reflected back at me, but I always know that I can trust that reflection (if anything, it errs on the nicer side, lol) and the motivation behind it. Seeing myself through Matthew's eyes has given me the confidence and peace that life in a funhouse completely destroys. I'd like to think the clarity he provides will forever insulate me from any lasting effects of brushes with the distorted images some people insist on giving to those around them.
I wish my friend would get out of the funhouse, but I suppose some people become so disoriented that they cannot fathom the chaotic images are not reality. I hope my girls, and the people I care about, learn and live the fact that a steady, unwavering, clear reflection that encourages self-awareness, introspection, and acceptance far outweighs the adrenaline and fear fueled rollercoaster of the funhouse.
I've been thinking about what other people see when looking in the mirror, and how closely that image reflects reality, or at least the reality of what those who know them actually see.
That (what others see) can be very misleading, incomplete, or even inaccurate, of course... So I guess the "reality" of our identity really changes with the eye of the beholder, and the tenor of that reality changes with the motivations and attitude of said beholder.
That gives other people a LOT of power over us if we do not have a clear sense of who we are, why we are, and where we are going.
Interact with the wrong person - one inclined to negatively spin things, either overtly or covertly in a manipulative fashion - and our grasp of our own persona changes perceptibly. Pick the wrong mirror and you see failure rather than achievement, age rather than strength, disappointment rather than accomplishment. Everything about who you are will darken and shrivel.
Find the right mirror, and you and your world brighten, and the wrinkles become character, the point becomes the journey rather than the result, and you become much less critical of that reflection you see each day.
Having experienced emotional abuse of varying degrees at different times in my life, and now, finally, living in a world where my main mirror seems to focus on my good features while reflecting my bad back with acceptance rather than judgment, I am VERY sensitive to the topic.
I think of emotional abuse as living in a world full of funhouse mirrors - the kind that distort from every angle, unexectedly and inaccurately, and always with the intention of keeping you from truly seeing yourself. Funhouse mirrors take your best feature and turn it grotesque. They reflect you in ways that become disorienting. They take an element of your true reflection and twist it, leaving it barely recognizeable. They give me a headache and make me uncomfortable and self-conscious.
So too the emotional abuser.
A friend of mine is so firmly entrenched in that funhouse that I am at wits end as to how to reach her. No reasoning or logic or pointing out of her husband's insane behavior registers with her. She defaults to blaming herself and worrying about doing anything to make the situation worse by upsetting him further. Without getting into gory details, the whole thing sickens me - in part because I cannot get through to her, in part because it is so awful and crazy that I can't believe she won't take control of her life, and in part because, for a brief time four years or so ago, I WAS her. How she has lived like this for 20+ years is beyond me. Twelve months, to the day, of that hell about did me in - but it also made me stronger once I recognized it and fought back.
And there-in lies the key. Too many of us choose, and accept, the reflections that mirror our own fears. For some reason, many of us allow ourselves to be susceptible to people whose motives are destructive rather than constructive or supportive. So many people in this world seem to mask their own unhappiness or lack of fulfillment by undermining the people around them. We all know the person who is adept at taking the wind out of sails... Who uses passive-aggressive (or outright aggressive) words and actions to influence or control or slant the reflection you see. We all know someone who, rather than take pride in their own accomplishments or world, seems to take pride in diminishing yours.
I can tell when I've spent too much time looking into the wrong mirrors. The person I think I am becomes less confident, less comfortable in her own skin and world. I see all the signs of aging, feel unfit no matter how hard the workout, hate my hair and clothing, cringe at my times and performances in races, feel pointless and deeply flawed as a person... I see a failure, in many ways, and waves of discontent wash over me. All my fears and insecurities shine in that mirror.
When I am blessed enough to find a positive reflection, the cloud of doubt dissipates and the image I see looking back at me seems softer and less flawed somehow. Same exact person- completely different paradigm.
Who we grant the power to paint our image says a lot about ourselves and perceptibly affects our present and future. How many goals and dreams have gone by the wayside because we got lost in the funhouse, or even in a place where just one cracked mirror held sway over our world? What paths might we have followed and experiences might we have enjoyed had we picked the right reflection to believe? How much time have we wasted trying to disprove an image that isn't really ours anyway?
The image I saw looking back took on so many more colors and such greater depth when I finally found the right mirror to look into regularly. The path my life (and the girls' as well) travels now and who we think we are as people improved and broadened when we met Matthew. I don't always like who I see reflected back at me, but I always know that I can trust that reflection (if anything, it errs on the nicer side, lol) and the motivation behind it. Seeing myself through Matthew's eyes has given me the confidence and peace that life in a funhouse completely destroys. I'd like to think the clarity he provides will forever insulate me from any lasting effects of brushes with the distorted images some people insist on giving to those around them.
I wish my friend would get out of the funhouse, but I suppose some people become so disoriented that they cannot fathom the chaotic images are not reality. I hope my girls, and the people I care about, learn and live the fact that a steady, unwavering, clear reflection that encourages self-awareness, introspection, and acceptance far outweighs the adrenaline and fear fueled rollercoaster of the funhouse.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)