I finished March out with a sad showing at the Modesto Half Marathon.  I was going along just fine, when at mile 4.86 (yes, I was that locked in), I felt an imperceptible pull.  My IT band.  It pulled ever so slowly, right down the side of my right leg.  I thought it was my hip.  I had never had this injury before, so I was shocked, to say the least.  I walked and limped 9 more miles.  And, I’m sort of over it.  This running business.  I love it, I really do.  But, when you work SO hard for SO long, only to get sick or injured, well, it’s wearing on me.

And, my writing.  Of late, it’s been really introspective.  Nothing I want to share, actually.  I’ve reopened a private blog, a place to write down all of the craziness that has typified the last 2 years, and have really had a turn in my life.  My writing doesn’t even really make sense to ME, much less anything I can share.  It’s all dangling participles, and phrases that don’t turn into sentences, thoughts that get started and have no conclusion.  My writing is exactly what it feels like to live inside my brain these days.

I’ve started to date.  And, that’s a really weird thing.  Someone said I should try dating websites, but they are pathetic and creepy, and most women I know want nothing to do with them.  I shudder to think that might be the place to meet a man.  At the same time,  in a way, I’m envious of people who can just put it all out there, and boldly state that they WANT someone.  And about that.  I just can’t do that.  I guess it’s because I don’t.  Want someone.  To meet someone and open all the way back up again.  Not now.  I know that I am enough, and I became a good woman, worthy of so much.  The times I’ve dated in the last few months, I didn’t even want to do anything more than a hug.  Just a gesture of thank you for the evening.  Dating is weird.  Dinner, movies, talking, all of that.  And at the end of the evening, I just want to be back home with my dog, and cuddling with MY life.  My GOOD life.

I’ve missed me.  The me that danced at the Dodgers game this weekend, and laughed out loud with my family, and the girl who still has not gone back to the old ways of shady behavior.  I have missed that little girl who looks at the world with wonder and innocence, even when I know it’s a dark place.  I’m tired, but I still have energy for good people, for people who don’t love with conditions.  And, though in the last 2 years I worked hard to lose my hard shell, along with it, I lost much of myself too, so I’ve come back to center, of sorts.  It’s hard, because I need good women to help me sort through the stuff I need to toss and need to keep.

I work.  With amazing people.  With a wonderful boss, who I knew years ago.  Who remembered how good I was at this particular work.  Who called me the day of that same familiar loss, when I prayed for God to untangle me, and who gave me a ray of sunshine that I’ve been missing for a year.  And now, I’m getting back into the swing of things…of being the worker and professional that I used to be.

So, running.  I have a half on tap in a few months.  I may try to work up a training plan.  But unless things change, I will look to a new way to love my body…and I do love my body.  The gym, yoga, bike riding.  Whatever.  Whatever it takes.  I’m sorry that I have nothing new to report.  No inspiration.  Except to say that March?  The madness is over, and just like that…tomorrow is a new day full of hope for my Dodgers and my children and my home and my life.

I’m so blessed, I can’t even really explain or understand it.


One thought on “March Madness. Sort of.

  1. I completely understand your post, about losing a sense of self, about needing to take a step away to move forward. I also understand about how sometimes you need to do new things, go new directions in fitness. And I completely relate to your thoughts on how you need good people to help with the mental decluttering. I am there too…

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