The Path Back: Found.

And so it came to pass that I had lost my mojo.  Somewhere along the path, my heel problem kept me firmly planted in my house.  My running shoes hung up on the outside hook, instead of sitting next to my bed, waiting for me to fly into them each morning.  I wrote and wrote about it.  I wanted to run.  I really did.  But, I didn’t have the energy to really commit to a race.  I had to drop out of the NIKE run.  I couldn’t run.

I started to think I might never run …really run, again.

I decided to try the 40 day challenge:  working out…doing anything for 40 days.  30 minutes of exercise.  It was that simple.  Because writing about it again and again wasn’t helping.  I’m on day 23 today.  Here’s where I found my mojo:


  • In my back yard.  In the pool.  Swimming for 30 minutes.  Laps.  Going down to that diving board and doing pull ups.  When I would forget that I needed to do my 30 minutes, I jumped in right there and just…swam.


  • The Nike Training Club App for iPhone.  This app kicks ass.  Really keeps me going.  Love that I get to watch a video, it keeps track of my workouts, I can share on Facebook, and I can put my playlists with the workouts.

  • Foursquare.  It’s ridiculous, really.  Check in.  Tell your friends where you are.  Get mayorships.  Badges.  Well…I am really motivated to get my gym’s mayorship.  So, yeah.  I go a lot.  Gotta see if my mojo was there as well.  And, it was.
  • Weight lifting.  11 years ago, I started a program with EAS.  I still use that same upper body workout.  I do the elliptical.   I do abs.  I just. do…anything that will keep me moving for 30 minutes.
  • Running.  And, finally, I ran.  Only 20 miles the whole month.  But.  I did run.  And I finally got up to 4 miles.  Without stopping.  I stopped beating myself up for “man, you used to run a lot, and you’ve run 4 marathons” mentality.
I didn’t start over.  I started again.  I can’t wait to see my progress at the end of the 40 days.  I know this.  There are many paths to finding my mojo.  I had to take responsibility and find it.
Happy August!

Time to Drive.

1961 Aston Martin DB4 GT Zagato Berlinetta
Image by Nelson Wu via Flickr

I’m tired of spinning my wheels
I need to find a place where my heart can go to heal
I need to get there pretty quick
Hey mister what you got out on that lot you can sell me in a pinch

Maybe one of them souped up muscle cars
The kind that makes you think you’re stronger than you are
Color don’t matter no I don’t need leather seats
All that really concerns me is

How fast will it go
Can it get me
Over her quickly
Zero to sixty
Can it outrun her memory
Yeah, what I really need
Is an open road
And a whole lot of speed

I’d like to trade in this old truck
Cause it makes me think of her and that just slows me up
See, it’s the first place we made love where we used to sit and talk
On the tailgate all night long but now she’s gone
And I need to move on
So give me

How fast will it go
Can it get me
Over her quickly
Zero to sixty
Can it outrun her memory
Yeah, what I really need
Is an open road
And a whole lot of speed

Throw me them keys so I can put some miles between us
Tear off that rearview mirror there’s nothing left to see here
Let me lean on that gas
Oh she catches up fast
So give me

How fast will it go
Can it get me
Over her quickly
Zero to sixty
Can it outrun her memory
Yeah, what I really need
Is an open road
And a whole lot of speed

That’s what I need
I’m tired of spinning my wheels
I’m tired of spinning my wheels

~Speed, by Montgomery Gentry

If not now, WHEN?

I’ve never had insomnia.  Ever.  I usually sleep very well.  Then Friday hit.  Bad news in the mail with an 11 miler planned the next day.  I was up until 2am trying desperately to sleep:

  • Close your eyes.
  • Toss
  • Turn
  • Look at clock
  • Panic because you have to be up in 6 hours, then 5, then 4, then…you’re not getting up.
  • Play Words with Friends
  • Watch your East Coast friends on Twitter get up and run.

This happened Friday night.  Then Saturday night, when a friend had to peel me off the wall, because for the first time in two years, I let what happened…happen.  Like, I stopped swimming upstream.  Had just finished signing papers after fighting for two years…only to watch it crumble away like sand slipping through my fingers.  And, the Vineman I wanted to go to could not happen. 

And I repeated the night before’s actions.  Until 2:30.  I figured I could sleep in.  But it doesn’t really work that way.  So more tossing and turning.  Turn the TV on, then off.  Read.  Get a drink.

On Sunday I planned those 11 miles.  And it didn’t happen.  I laid in the pool hoping I wasn’t going to lose all of my fitness.  My kids came home.  We had a party at the house, and cake was left, and then I was eating sugar straight of the edges of the icing.  And planned to run.  Again.  Maybe tomorrow.

Monday morning came and went.  Last night I had ice cream.  And was up until 3am.  Pondering my life and my home and my kids and my direction.  And knew I wouldn’t run today either.

My eyes flew open at 7am.  As my blog tag says, “If not now, when?”  I was exhausted.  I laced up.  I put my clothes on and walked outside.  And I walked to the corner. 

My calves said, “now”.  I ran three junk miles.  And, at the end, my body was screaming for more. 

Tonight, there will be no electronics late.  No TV.  No sugar or caffeine.  I will wake tomorrow and get through this hump to begin again.

We’ll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun

Today marks 3 years since I’ve been separated.  I have no sadness, no sorrow today.  Yet, I’ve looked through my blog, and for each of the past February 3rds…I do not post.  I stick my head down, and apparently just go through the day.


This song was one I listened to when I was trying to be hopeful in the early days.  I was hoping that someday I’d feel better.

I do. I still notice the ghosts in my house, but they are quieter, and the loud cacophony that used to ring in my ears is but a soft tinkling now. 

Now, it’s my house.  My kids’ house.  My dogs’ house.  The snores and yells and ringing computer games and new telephones are the sounds I hear. 

And.  You know what?

I’m good.  Finally

Left its seeds while I was sleeping*

Morning Glories open themselves up to the world, in the morning,
in all of their glory, hence the name Morning Glory.
And if you look closely at them, you will see how extraordinary
they are both in colour and texture and that in their centre is
a kind of golden light that shines from within.

But here is the hard part…
At the end of the day, they turn a most beautiful shade of lavender,
and then close up, wither and die. They live for only one day
and then they are gone.

(from The Lesson of the Morning Glory, by Veronica Hay)

This may mean nothing to anyone else but me.  This is my house.  This looks like trash in front of my house.  I assure you, it’s not.  Just when I think I’m ready to start again, or move on or whatever people say you should do, something else in my house breaks…or something reminds me of my past life…and while most people by now have made big changes, I seem stuck in mourning yet another part of my previous existence.  Today was one of those days.

A few weeks ago, my fence blew down during that big storm, and with it, the very vine you are looking at.  Twelve ago, we put up morning glory on an 8 foot piece of lattice, all the way around our pool area.  We put in 3 vines.  Within a year, the whole fence and yard was covered in morning glory.  The vine went everywhere…into neighbors’ yards, over fences.  I could see the morning glory three houses down.

Last week when it fell down, and the dogs went out of the yard, and the pool was a mess and the cement was a nightmare, I could not deal with this morning glory.  I finally got someone to come and take down the lattice, and the morning glory with it.  In the winter, it looks like this…always…but in the summer, it is glorious.

So I came up to my house last night, and saw the pile in front of my house, and because I tend to look at everything in terms of endings, I immediately fell sorrow.  Because this is the protection my yard has from the outside world, from the neighbors’ eyes, from noises everywhere.

Again with the maudlin review of everything in my house, but the death of this plant surely must signify something.  We planted it before there were children.  Before we thought we could.  Three plants, took over.  I swam in front of the moon and the plant, and cried and laughed.  I gave my kids countless popsicles, pondered my life in love with someone else, crying out in the black night for God or whoever is running the universe to hear me.  The Purple Hood, shielding me and giving me comfort and anonymity.

And now.

Now, my fence stands naked and broken.  Propped up with some metal stakes, 2 feet shorter, blonded wood that I haven’t seen for a long time.  Just one side of it. 

So, there must be some sort of requiem for the Morning Glory.  To anyone else, it looks like refuse that the city will pick up in a few days.  To me, it’s yet another piece of the history of my family, and oh.  If it could talk…

*Lyric from Sounds of Silence