It's been a long, a long time coming but I know a change gonna come

With the official countdown coming to a close of my 30th birthday, I feel as though I'm on the verge of something. That things are going to change - and in a big way. I've narrowed my pool of possible MFA schools to only those in Australia. I figure I've already done the UK thing and Australia rests better on conscious when I lie awake in bed at night.

This decision scares the hell out of me.

But in an effort to not put the cart before the horse, I'm trying to focus my energy on my portfolio because that is, after all, the most important component of my application. If they don't like my writing I'll be staying in Columbus for another year. Which also scares the hell out of me.

Australia aside, 30 is a big birthday. I'm leaving one decade behind and stepping over that line to the next one. I'm optimistic about my 30s. I leave my 20s feeling almost as bad and messed up as I did when I entered them, however I'm making a conscious decision to get it together. To stop living like I'm 21 and mature a little bit. This means cutting back on my alcohol consumption, staying away from smoking/smokers, exercising, eating well...to practice taking care of myself, something I've never been good at. If I continue down the path of bad habits the future looks bleak. When I think about what I could become, the future stretches out before me flooded with possibilities. Oh yes, a change is gonna come.

And as a matter of fact, Australia does tie into this personal change. I'm a creature of habit, a product of my environment. Take me out of that comfortable environment where it's so easy for me to be self-destructive and I'm an entirely different person.

One more thing, I've managed to knock off 18 items from my 30 before 30 list. Some just weren't physically possible, the others...well, they'll just carry over to the new 35 before 35 list.

Babies

My sister-in-law gave birth to twins this morning. Ethan weighed 6lbs 10oz and Layla weighed 5lbs. Nearly 12 pounds of baby increased our family by two this morning, making my brother and his wife first time parents, my parents first time grandparents, and my sister and me first time aunts. I can't wait to spoil the snot out of those two kids. Unfortunately they live about 2,500 miles from where I live so seeing them will be tough. It will be even harder if I jump ship and head to Australia like I have planned but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. All I know for now is that those two little babies are finally here and they are perfect.

Anxious

To give a person with chronic anxiety reason to be more anxious should be illegal. My brilliant doctor has been sitting on a script of mine for nearly two weeks. I've called him many times but he has still yet to call it in to the pharmacy. I'm actually going in to the office tomorrow to get the damn thing in my hand and then tell him to bugger off. You can't do that to a crazy person. All my meds are messed up anyway because they are so god awful expensive, the dosing is all wrong and - oh yeah - I don't even HAVE one of them. I'm going a little nuts but I think it's understandable considering my body chemistry is all over the map. All this work and effort just to make it through a day feeling relatively normal. I don't even know what normal feels like. My head hurts all the time. It's probably head cancer.

It's Tuesday ~ What do you want from me?

Remember when I was all rah rah Marathon 2009? Those were good times. I ran 1.2 miles yesterday and it felt great. It's a start. Neither good nor bad, but a start.

I'm trying to be contemplative. There's really nothing to be contemplative about at the moment. Good time for me start reviving this blog again, right?

Check back tomorrow. Something good is bound to come up.

Did someone say running?

It's a gorgeous day in my corner of the globe. I think that calls for a run. Did I say running was non-exisent? Was that me? Because that sure doesn't sound like something a runner would say. And I'm a runner. Watch out world. Kate's gonna run today.

From the abyss

I don't plan on making a habit out of leaving a 7 month gap between posts. A week went by then two...before I knew it I caught myself saying "Didn't I used to have a blog?" and here we are. A lot has changed since last we spoke, most of it for the better. I'm getting my writing portfolio together and going through the daunting task of applying to MFA programs, both in the US and abroad. And by abroad I mean the UK and Australia. I'm not sure what it is that makes me feel the need to uproot myself and spend large amounts of time in other countries for no good reason. I figure if I'm going to move for a graduate program, I'm going to move BIG. I suppose Edinburgh (again) or London or Adelaide or Melbourne would be pretty big moves, yah?

In other news, I'm employed again. When people ask what I do I try really hard not to say "I'm a receptionist. I don't do jack" because that sort of makes me sound like an idiot. But really, I don't to jack. I mean, work-wise. I read plenty of books, write papers, play around on facebook, you know, get the important stuff done. Then at 5 o'clock I pack my stuff up and go home to read books, write papers and play around on facebook. You may be thinking to yourself "that sounds really boring. Is she nuts?" and yes. Yes I am. If you've read my blog before this shouldn't come as much of a a surprise.

Running is non-existent. This will must change.

Tap, tap. Is this thing on?

Pardon me while I dust off this section of the internet. It hasn't been used in a while.

7 solid months of weekly (sometimes bi-weekly) talk-therapy has taught me one crucially important thing: man, do I have some issues! It seems as though every week another layer of the problem is exposed, another faulty way of thinking to address, more ways I constantly bring myself down are discovered. I think Anne of Green Gables said it best when she dramatically proclaimed that she was "in the depths of despair." The Dude pokes and prods, persists relentlessly until he finds where the scars begin. 7 months and I'm not quite sure we've even chipped the surface yet.

Needless to say, Christmas is bumming me out. I didn't bother to put up a tree this year or any other sort of decorations. I have no desire to sing "fa la la la la la la la la" or spend my nights watching the old Christmas classics I usually watch every year. I can't think about New Year's Eve without bursting into tears (due to scar tissue recently clawed at during a session with The Dude last week. I find it hard to imagine New Year's Eve ever being a happy night for me); I think I'll have a NyQuil cocktail at around 8:30 and call it a year.

I write this unashamed. Those of you that know me outside the anonymity of the internet may find this surprising, some may not. Depression is an illness like any other, not a mood and part of the reason I got to the "depths of despair" was because I didn't talk about it. Not to anyone. Now I talk to everyone, hopefully communicating the serious of this illness. Depression, anxiety, and manic episodes occupy my life at the moment as it probably will in spurts for the rest of my life. Meds help. So does The Dude. I believe if I hadn't quit my job when I did and been sent for help by my mother, I wouldn't be alive today. I praise God for this every day.

I'll quit being a Debbie Downer for the moment, if I may, and report good news. I ran a 5k on December 6th, ran every step and finished with a respectable time (though far, far from what I'm capable of). I have my 1/2 marathon training plan all worked out and scheduled to begin on February 9th for the Capital City 1/2 on May 2nd. Until I begin the training schedule, I've been running between 15-20 miles per week, about 3 or 4 of those miles with my good friend Jackie. Jackie has set a goal of running a 5k on St. Patrick's Day weekend and she's just as determined as I am as far as race goals go.

Running and good friends also help.

Melancholy

It's snowing in Ohio.

I was not good about running last week. Only got about 7 miles in. And I did not do my long run.

Mostly because I've been feeling slight melancholy again. I wouldn't say full blown depression but a persistent sense of unease and an unwillingness to leave my bed. I wonder how this can happen when I'm on all the drugs that have been working thus far. Therapy has been rough for the last month or so. Maybe that's it.

But I'm going to class. I will not allow myself to stay in bed all day and miss the classes that I love. I will not do that to myself.

Even if it is snowing in Ohio.

Where Kate proves once again the vastness of her intellect

OK, so remember a few posts ago where I mentioned how stupid I am? The blisters from my brilliant Halloween costume kept me from running for an entire week. I've been hobbling around like....something that hobbles a lot, feeling stupider and stupider as this ridiculousness plays itself out. The blisters on my toes were so big that they encompassed my entire toe. And when I (being the genius we all know I am) popped them, a thick layer of skin rose all the way around my toe. So naturally, I pulled the skin off, leaving three of my toes exposing the second layer of skin and extremely sensitive to the slightest touch. Hence no running. Today has been the first day I've put the full weight of my body on them and haven't fallen back in pain so I'm going to try an eensy weensy tiny run tonight and see how it goes.

30 before 30

For a much more eloquent description of what this is, check out my sister-friend's post about stepping out of her comfort zone. A few years ago I had a similar conversation with her when she told me about 30 things she wanted to challenge herself to do before she turned 30. I decided to steal her idea and make up a list of my own. As you can see, I've had difficulty even FINISHING the list so obviously some of these won't get done. Like #4 for example. The italicised goals are works in progress and the red goals are already completed. I might have to tack on another 5 and change it to 35 Before 35 since, um, I only have 11 10 months left. Oops.

1. Run a marathon (i.e. FINNISH a marathon)
2. Lose 50 lbs
3. Read Anna Karenina and The Brother’s Karmanov.
4. Finish knitting the scarf (I've knitted several baby blankets, a sweater and about 7,000 handbags so even though I didn't technically finish the scarf, I'm checking it off. The point of that was to become a better knitter and I have.)
5. Kiss a boy (a reciprocal kiss!)
6. Find a new job
7. Visit a state I’ve never been to before
8. Get a tattoo
9. Cut off contact with The Ex permanently
10. Take a multi-vitamin every day.
11. Publish something I’ve written
12. Revisit Edinburgh
13. Establish a circle of Christian friends
14. Take a photography class
15. Visit a country I’ve never been to before
16. Volunteer
17. Sing karaoke in front of people
18. Find a bible study to attend
19. Try seafood
20. Learn how to make one meal really well (besides desert)
21. Fix the car
22. Wear a bikini outside my living room
23. officially join the church
24. finish the 30 before 30 list
25. learn how to ride a bike using no hands
26. consistently practice yoga
27. break 25:25 in the 5k
28. Apply to 10-12 MFA programs.
29. Take a self-defense class
30. Pee in the woods.

updated 9/14/09

The Week

This has been a great running week for me despite the fact that I'm putting off the long-run-that-isn't-really-long until later in the day or possibly tomorrow because of a certain holiday yesterday and a dum-dum who wore 2 inch heels that ripped her feet to shreds. I don't know what possessed me to wear these shoes and yes I realize they were only 2-inches so you can point and laugh at me all you want but I have 6 blisters the size of Kansas on each foot. Once again I prove how smart I really am.

Anywho. I'll get six miles in at some point which will put me right at 15 miles for the week. I'm pretty comfortable with that and will probably stay at that mileage for a few weeks before I start working my way up to 20 and eventually 25 before my training schedule starts for the 1/2 marathon at the beginning of May. I have little hope I can PR there after my 2:10 last year because of my layoff but I really like this race. That will make 3 years in a row! Luckily for me I am quite happy to keep running the same courses over and over and have little desire to travel more than a half hour to race. I just don't have the money or time for that sort of investment.

My friend Jackie is also continuing to run with me. This thrills me to the core. I get voicemails from her asking what time we're going to run, which route we'll take, where's the best place to get one of those watter bottle thingies with the hand strap. Not to discredit her but I never expected her to stick with it for as long as she has (about 3 weeks now) and to also enjoy it as much as she does. She's even setting small goals for herself and realizing how empowering it makes her feel. It almost brings tears to my eyes with joy.

I'm a bit sore from yoga on Friday but I'm loving every pain and ache. It means I'm getting my lard-ass into shape. Slowly but surely I'll get there.

Did my LSD yesterday and it was awesome. I was supposed to meet with the Boy Toy again but he backed out on account of too much partying the night before. Oh boy, what a surprise. He's just as reliable as he was when we were dating. Me thinks I dodged a bullet with that one. Anyway. 5 miles I did, trying to keep my pace between 11:30 and 11:40. Nice and slooooooow. And here's what happened:

Mile 1: 11:43
Mile 2: 11:35
Mile 3: 11:21
Mile 4: 11:15
Mile 5: 11:09

Hmmmmm. Interesting. I didn't feel like I was going faster at mile five than I was at mile 1 and, in fact, mile 1 seemed like I was working a helluva lot harder than mile 5. Maybe it just takes me 5 miles before I start to feel good. Quite possible.

I've been eating well and have been rewarded with a deficit of a few of the old LB's. That's always nice to see. I'd like to lose about 50 more but, yeah. One step, one day at a time.

When Dostoevsky wrote "The Idiot" he was writing about me.

Ran with the Boy Toy today. This is a new development in the never-ending saga of my romantic life. Not that there's really all that much to tell. I saw him Sunday running the marathon, or rather, we both saw each other at the exact same moment. So I texted him later in the day to congratulate him on his PR, one thing led to another, and the next thing I know, we're meeting for a run in the park today. I was apprehensive because:

• I was 15lbs lighter the last time I saw him
• I'd told him I was sick over the summer and that's why I hadn't been running, so naturally when he asked what I'd come down with, I blurted out "depression and anxiety" which I immediately regretted because I fear he thinks it might have had something to with him since we broke up in the middle of all that, but really it had nothing to do with him at all. Le sigh.
• And because I haven't been back to running for all that long, I still suck wind the entire time so I looked like a total douche trying to keep up with him and talk "comfortably" all while clocking 10:20 miles (again, still not fast but I'm not quite back to that level yet)
• Oh, and the whole ex-boyfriend issue.
• It didn't come up. We just talked, caught up, yadda yadda.
• and we're running together again on Saturday.
• Am I a masochist or what?

So that's my running experience for today. I had fun running with him today. I really did. However it's a bit confusing to go from boyfriend/girlfriend to just "friends." I'm doing my best not reading into it but...meh. Whatever. Boyz r dum. But hey, I got 4 miles out of it at a 10:20 pace and I didn't die so that's good, right? I don't think he even broke a sweat. Grrr.

YAY!!!!!

Day one of Goal Marathon 2009 yesterday with a total of 3 miles with an average pace of 10:48. This makes me very very very happy. It's neither far nor fast but I'm proud of myself nonetheless. Since the middle of September I've been running about 10 miles a week struggling for every step, it seems. My pace was usually somewhere around 12:00 miles but yesterday, ah yesterday...for the first time in a very long time I feel like not all is lost. That the 4.5 months I spent (and am still currently spending) getting my brain healthy did not totally kill everything I worked for physically. I'm actually looking forward to winter and running in the cold and snow and under armor. Yay running!

It's coming back, ya'll!

The Columbus Marathon from the sidelines

As most of you know, I've been on sort of an unwanted hiatus from "serious" running since about April. My brain wasn't functioning properly and therefore my body couldn't either. I've recently started running again and it feels like I'm starting all over from scratch. This is incredibly frustrating. After I've sucked wind for two miles I beat myself up with all kinds of "should" statements. I should be running faster. I should be running farther. I never should have quit running when I had my mental breakdown. I should not be such an idiot.

However, it was suggested to me that I might consider letting myself off the hook every once in a while. I know I was sick and I know it was very close to life threatening and I know that for every mile I run now I can praise God I'm still alive. I should let myself off the hook.

Today I watched my dad run the Columbus 1/2 Marathon and he did great, a fantastic PR by about 10 minutes. After he finished I went to another part of the course (mile 22) where the marathoners were still going strong and I cheered for each person until the last runner went by. I know how tough those last few miles can be and, being a back-of-the-pack'er myself, I know how lonely I get. I hope I was able to offer encouragement to some of them with my sign:

YOUR FEET HURT CUZ YOU'RE KICKING SO MUCH ASS!!

God willing, I'll be back there next year.

4 miles.

Check.

And so what if they were run a day late? I got them done didn't I? Actually, the only reason I did them at all is because I have this paper to write and I'm not really feeling it. It's due tomorrow and while I already have a pretty shitty rough draft down on paper, I have a feeling it's going to be a long, long night of revisions. So what do I do? Put it off for an hour and go for a run.

Ah, college. I love it!

I will run.

OK.

I'm going to run today.

I AM going to run today.

I am going to RUN today.

I am going to run TODAY.

I am going to put on my shoes and my shorts and my shirt and my little black visor that is the best little black visor a girl could wish for. I'm going to strap my Garmin to my left wrist, charge my ipod, and step out the front door. Then I will run. I will run for 4 miles. And then I will stop. I will stop running, come back to my apartment, take a shower and report my accomplishment.

Sometimes it takes a little visualization.

Running. In a skirt?!

To think I almost passed up on the $30 road bike makes my brain hurt a little. It is quite dazzling. It did, however, need new tires which I was happy to get and even got a little carried away adding accessories. I'm a sucker for bikes. This thing is great. 10 speeds, super fast, and it's blue so it matches my other bike. I'll post a picture soon, when it stops pissing rain in Ohio.

And I've actually be running. Hurrah! Maybe not as many miles as I would like or as fast as I would like but I could probably say that for most days that I train. I found some running skirts at Target on clearance so I've been trying to get used to the idea of running in a skirt. I have to admit when I put it on and stepped out my front door I felt as though the world had suddenly gone cattywhampus. Running? In a skirt?!? I felt entirely too dressed up. I'm not quite sure about the whole idea of running in a skirt but I guess female tennis players do it and they're pretty kick ass, right? Hmmm....jury's still out on the skirt issue.

Nothing exciting.

It's late on Sunday night and I'm trying to gear myself up for the week ahead. I wasn't able to run at all last week, ahem, I should correct that. I didn't run at all last week. It's difficult for me to get my butt out the door when my schedule is so cattywhampus and running is not my highest priority. However, I'm still on my health kick and feeling much better as a result of that. My insides feel clean, if that makes any sense.

I recently made another impulsive bike purchase, only this time it was only $30 and it's a road bike. Wahooooo! Riding it really makes me think about doing a triathlon someday, something that would have been ridiculous on my 1972 Schwinn Suburban. Even if it is schweet, it's not ideal for road racing. This new one is. I've been zipping all over town this week on it. You may have seen me go zooooom because it's that fast. Now my house has more bikes than people. Hee hee.

So to the land of dreams I go. Another week over and a new one just begun.

Slack

I wish I had better numbers to report for this week but I just don't. Plain as that. Lots of biking but that's implied by now, right? That's my main mode of transportation so...yeah. Lots of biking.

My excuse for this week is that I had family in town visiting: my cousin, her little baby girl and my aunt. They are a lot of fun and I spent more time with an 11 month old than I think I ever have in my life. Seeing her almost makes me want to have babies of my own. Almost.

School continues to rock my socks. My writing professor is giving us lots of prompts and mine yesterday was a prescription bottle. This is what came out of my noggin:

Prescription bottles always remind me of my grandfather. I have 12 medications of my own that I take every day, however whenever I see an orange see-through bottle with a white cap, I don’t think of the 12 of them I have lined up on my nightstand at home; I think about my grandfather’s veiny hands struggling with the childproof cap. The pharmacist often offered to replace the childproof cap with an easy-open snap off cap, but my grandfather wouldn’t hear of it. My mother, his caretaker, would sigh and continue to be available to him at all times in case he couldn’t get a bottle open. “Why, I do believe they’ve given me a broken bottle,” he would say. He would tell my mother to call the pharmacy and complain, but she never did. Instead, she would read the auxiliary labels to him explaining what each one meant as she went along. “Take with food or milk.” “Do not drive or operate heavy machinery while taking this medication.”

My mother bought him a pill organizer one year for Christmas. It was a large rectangle box organized by day of the week and time of day. Each individual plastic day, containing four separate boxes (Morning, Noon, Evening, and Bedtime), could be popped out so that he would only have to carry one day’s worth of pills around with him. Each morning he selected the appropriate plastic day and placed it in his breast pocket, along with two gold pens and a comb.

Every Saturday night my grandfather would meticulously arrange his pills for the week. Each pill was dropped into its correct box in precisely the right order. One day he dropped his heart medication in before he dropped his thyroid medication in and had to start all over from the beginning. When he eventually became unable to perform his Saturday night ritual on his own, he instructed my mother, watching her with a scrutinizing glare in order to make sure every pill went from bottle to box in precisely the right order. After several weeks of practice my grandfather felt confident enough in my mother’s pill dispensing abilities to relinquish control over his pill box.

When my grandfather died I took the pill box for myself, not that anyone else in my family particularly wanted it. I saved it from the “Throw Away” pile and took it home to my nightstand where it sits empty. I have 12 prescription bottles lined up on my nightstand table and a pillbox in which to organize them, however I have yet to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps and create my own Saturday night ritual. The boxes have not been opened since his final Saturday night ritual and I’m afraid opening them now would allow tufts of him to escape, tufts of him I want to keep on my nightstand table.