Month: December 2013

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The Three R’s of My New Year’s Eve

Reflection

2013 was not a bad year for me.  I ran my very own half-marathon, ran/walked my first “family” 5k, ran/walked a very fun Color Me Rad race with a lovely friend with absolutely no time goal in mind, and ran more miles in a  year than ever before–664 miles.  Admittedly, I am 76 miles short of my goal mileage for the year, but I’m really ok with that.  It’s still 24 more miles than last year, and that’s with over 2 1/2 months off.  Woo-hoo!  Ok, I’m pretty proud of that. I haven’t seen all of the numbers in print before, and now that I have, I’m quite happy with it.

Health-wise it hasn’t been the best year.  Two surgeries on my legs for varicose veins and ended the year with a herniated disc in my back. Not sure what will happen next. I do wonder if this blog will need to be renamed.  What else will you “see Holly” do?  Only time will tell, but I do have hope that my running will continue.

My weight fluctuated more than I wanted it to this year. I was up too far in September, but gambled my way to a weight I was happy with.  Then I lost too much weight this fall, which for me, is a weird thing to experience or even talk about.  Seeing “159” on my scale was a surreal yet scary thing to happen.  I was afraid to eat yet even more afraid I would become weaker and more frail than I already felt.  For now, though, things are better. I’m at a pretty comfortable 163 pounds and haven’t gotten a “you’re too skinny” comment in over a week, so my public must think I look ok. 😉

Professionally, I think it’s been a really good year.  I’ve been fortunate enough to be part of the Maine Library Leadership Institute, where I’ve met some amazing librarians here in Maine and throughout New England.  We’ve created this pretty spectacular support network and because of these folks, I feel more confident in my work and more competent in what I do.  I’m also participating in groups I want to be a part of, like being a judge for the Maine Readers’ Choice Award.  Do you know what I have to do for this committee?  READ!  Seriously.  This is the *best* committee I’ve ever been a part of.

Fortunately, my family has had a pretty good year, too.  My husband lost a few pounds and my son is on his way to becoming a giant.  My sister started hunting, partially inspired by our weekend together; my brother published several stories; my parents’ health is as good as it can get right now.   All in all, things are good and we are well aware of it.  We try to appreciate these good times and not worry about the future.

Resolutions

You know what? Typically I love this time of year.  There is so much promise…so much hope that good changes will happen.   I’m just not feeling it this year.  I’ve been good about only having goals that I think I can actually achieve–like my mileage goals.  But due to my back, there will be no mileage goal for 2014, unless I get the go-ahead from the neurosurgeon. And since I won’t see him for another week, then I’m passing on that goal for now.  I want to say that I’ll be good to myself next year and stop berating myself for gaining a pound or missing a workout but….I hate to fail.   For a day or two, I thought I’d throw out my scale for 2014.  But I just can’t do that.  Part of what keeps me sane is knowing that I’m not gaining weight. Of course it’s also a part of what makes me insane.  Go figure.

How about this? I often feel like a weakling. I can’t lift much of anything and I really find that annoying.  So, I resolve to be stronger in 2014. I hope strength will be represented not only with my body, but with my mind.  Perhaps I’ll learn to love myself like I’m loved by others.

I think I like that.  This is good.

Reading

Ok. Obviously this isn’t the “usual” thing to talk about or is related to New Year’s.  Maybe the “r” should be reinvention or rules or some such thing. But for me?  *Everything* can be associated with reading.  I recommend books to people for a living. I typically only give books as gifts.  Every person that is close to me is an avid reader (with my parents being the exceptions—weird, right?).  I love to talk about what I’m reading. I love to talk about and listen to *you* talk about what you’re reading.  Ideas and stories from books can change lives.  They can influence you, make you feel less alone. They can justify your beliefs, your worries and your loves.  Books rule my world in one way or another.

And yet…I never have a goal of how many books I want to read in a year.  So many of my friends do. I think it might be because reading is such a big part of my life that I don’t want (or need) to have a goal associated with it.  I may love running, but I still need a goal to get me out that door on a wet cold February (or March or November) morning.  But it’s a rare day that I don’t want to read.  In this sense, I feel like my life is so very rich and full and good.  Books and reading and conversations about what we read is what makes this woman happy.  Possibly even more than not having to suck in my gut when putting on my new size 10 pants. 🙂

And what have I read this year?  It seems like I’ve read anything I can get my hands on.  I’ve read only about 92 books but it included biographies, graphic novels, erotica, short stories, lots of literary fiction, teen fiction, mysteries, non-fiction, poetry and books about body image.  What isn’t counted are the hundreds of picture books and children’s graphic novels my son and I read together, as well as the large amount of magazine articles and blogs I’ve enjoyed reading all year.  (I’m a huge fan of goodreads.com, so if you’d like to see what I’ve read and want to read, you can become my “friend” there.)

Next year, maybe I’ll read 100 books, or actually count all of the books my son & I read, too.  We’ll see. I’m not making any promises.

I think 2014 should just be the year where we all just enjoy life.  Doesn’t that sound good?  If this year has taught me anything, it’s taught me that life is so very short.  Let’s all do what we can to make this next year be a good one, in whatever ways we choose.

May the new year be filled with peace, happiness, and love for us all!

(And possibly running and reading, too.)

🙂

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Coming Home

Do you know the song “Home” by Phillip Phillips?  A friend of mine once told me he heard it while running a race, then added it to his playlist.  I tried it for a bit, but it was just too slow for me.  No “oomph” in the song to get or keep me going, you know?  But this morning….this morning things were different.

I haven’t run in 61 days. (But who’s counting?)  I’ve tried to do a few running intervals within my treadmill walks and it’s been ok.  I immediately felt great after my mini-runs, like I was floating on air. I felt so light and free and fabulous.  Yet within an hour, my back always felt tight or just painful.  So I’ve continued my elliptical and walking workouts and just doing my best to stay in shape until my visit to the neurosurgeon to find out what my other choices will be.

When I woke up this morning, I immediately got into my workout gear….and just felt grumpy.  I walked out to the kitchen to discover my husband didn’t finish washing the dishes from the night before, like he said he would.  The coffee pot was dirty, as was nearly every coffee mug we own.  To say the least, I was pissed.  I slammed things around in the kitchen and washed the damn dishes.  I told my husband I was angry and why I was but just left it at that.  I didn’t want us to argue or be mad at each other all day, but I couldn’t let it go either.  Thankfully he understood why I was ticked and cleaned up the breakfast dishes without my asking.

As  I got my boy ready for basketball, I started to feel…jittery.  The thermometer said 25 degrees–the warmest it’s been in a while.  Maybe….maybe I could walk or even run outside?  Most of the ice was gone, wasn’t it?  I wasn’t sure, and honestly, I was nervous as hell.  I felt like I used to feel before a race, anxious and nervous and desperately wanting to just run and be ok at it.

Eventually I got the kid and husband off to basketball practice, put my running shoes on and just stood in my mudroom.  “I can do this,” I thought. I *want* to do this.  So…I put my headphones on, my hat, jacket and mittens, and stepped outside.

Oh man, it felt great out there.  When it’s been 10 degrees during the day, 25 degrees (and getting warmer!) felt incredible.  I gingerly walked down our driveway between the icy ruts and stepped onto the road. There was a layer of ice underneath the dirty snow, so I knew it would be slow going, no matter if I walked or ran.  But it looked doable.  So I turned on my ipod and looked through my playlists.  I didn’t want anything too fast.  Normally I’d go for the dance music, something to make me want to move.  But this was unlike any run I had ever done before.  There was no speed goal, not even a goal of finishing really.  I think….I think I just wanted to feel good.  To feel happy. To feel like myself again.  But I was scared. I wasn’t sure if my leg would work correctly or if my back would start to hurt.  So instead of worrying about any of that, I  picked out a song that makes me think of my friends and my family and ultimately makes me feel safe and loved.  I listened to Phillip Phillips sing, telling me to be calm and not to think about those things that scare me, because they’ll just drag me down.  And to “just know you’re not alone, cause I’m gonna make this place your home.”

As the first chorus played, I picked up my feet and started a slow trot.  It never got much faster than that, but I didn’t care.  I trotted along, being very conscious of how my body felt.  The first thing I noticed?  Body parts were jiggling that didn’t jiggle two months ago.  THAT was disturbing.  But I went on.  At the end of the first 1/4 mile, my lungs felt like they were on fire.  It was only 1/4 mile!!!  But I kept on, damn it.  I figured that if I could make it to the 1/2 mile mark, then I could run my  previously typical run of 3.1 miles.  (Don’t ask me where the logic is in that, because I have no idea.)  Just past the 1/2 mile, I walked up a hill, did a quick body check (back ok? check. legs feel strong? check. feet numb? check.) and continued on down the road.

No matter the temperature, wintertime in Maine really is wondrous.  I kept looking up and around at the snow-covered trees, just admiring the beauty.  After a bit, I had to concentrate on the road and where my feet landed. It was a bit slick in some areas and even at my slow pace, running downhill was a bit challenging.  When I finally looked up again, close to my deerwinterturn-around point, I saw a young deer on the side of the road watching me.  I smiled…and actually waved.  (I really have lost my mind.) He stared at me for a few more seconds, then scampered across the road and into the woods.  I audibly sighed.  I’ve missed this so much in the past two months….the beauty of the outdoors, the wildlife….the sweat trickling down my back, the burning lungs, the ache in my legs as I try to sprint that last 1/4 mile.

With the thoughts of all the runs I’ve missed, I slowly made my way back home with more lively music pumping through my ear buds…Pitbull, Nicki Minaj, Flo Rida, Linkin Park.  As I ran my last 1/4 mile, I didn’t think I’d actually be able to sprint.  I was pretty sure my body wasn’t up for that. But I dug my ipod out again and found “Home.”   As I tried to pick my feet up, I felt like everyone I have ever loved, dead or alive, near and far, were with me…running ahead of me, behind me and beside me.  I don’t know if I finished any faster than the rest of my run, but I finished with a smile, a little laugh and I think I felt a little like the Grinch at the end of the book. Holly’s “small heart grew three sizes that day!”   It was a little surreal, but deliciously so.

The rest of the day went by in a happy blur.  I seemed to have more patience, even when my son was starting to lose it while we were shopping.  I teased my husband in a fun and flirty way and all in all just enjoyed the day with my little family.  There was no arguing, no whining, not even a roll of my eyes.  I even played a mind-numbing game of Yu-Gi-Oh! cards with my son and didn’t complain. (Seriously, have you tried to play these card games?  I think I’ve accomplished something major here.)

I do know that I can’t run like I used to….at least not yet.  My back didn’t hurt after this run, but it didn’t feel quite right either.  I feel a little out of alignment.  I did some stretching and such, but I know I need to find out what I am truly “allowed” to do and not to do.  I’ve been told by my physical therapist that running did not cause my herniated disc nor will it make it worse, BUT, if I feel pain, I shouldn’t do it.  Period.  So…for now….I will enjoy the occasional run and hope that running will continue to be a part of my future.  And until that time, I will listen to Phillip Phillips crooning, remember today’s run and feel absolutely loved.

heartgrinch

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Sticks and Stones

We live in a society that tells us we’re rude if we tell someone they’re too fat, yet it’s ok to tell someone they’re too skinny.  Logical?

When I was 252 pounds, not one person said, “Holly, it’s obvious something is going on. You need a little help. Is there something I can do? How can I help?”  Or even, “Snap out of it! You’re only hurting yourself, damn it!”

But now that I’m 162 pounds, I’ve been bombarded with, “Please stop losing weight,” and “Have you been ill?”  and the brazen “You are too skinny.  Eat something!”

Unbelievable.

Recently I had a similar discussion with a friend, and she wondered if it was because I’m so tall and the weight loss is even more noticeable.  I have always thought it was because everyone that knows me, only knows me as fat or chubby. So when they see me now, it’s weird and unnerving.  I don’t quite look like the Holly they’ve always known.  But you know what?  I’m still that same Holly.  I’m still damn sensitive to what you say about me.  These comments?  Most folks mean well, I know.  But they’re killing me.  I’ve tried very hard to like what I see when I look in the mirror.  It’s never been easy, but I’m working on it.   Yet hearing these comments nearly every single day have made me doubt what I see in the mirror.

Here’s the thing. I’ve talked before about body dysmorphia. It sucks. It’s no fun, but I deal with it and have good days and bad days.  I’m starting to see the lean woman I’ve become, and mostly I think she looks good. Healthy.  But then I keep hearing “skinny” and “sickly” and now I “see” tired and gaunt.   Since I know I can’t trust my mirror anymore, I’ve had to ask a few people that I love and trust to tell me the truth.   I don’t think they’d ever tell me I was fat, but they sure as hell will tell me if I look emaciated.

When I lost all this weight a few years ago, I liked being called “skinny.”  I still do. People are giving me a compliment. I get that and I really am grateful.  But these other things?  I don’t know.  I don’t know what to say to people.  I know they’re saying these things because they care, but when you say stuff like that to a person with multiple eating disorders in their past, you’re doing them more harm than good.   Then again, not everyone knows that about me…..I think I’m writing about this tonight because of what happened last week.  So let me set the scene for you.

I was working at the circulation desk at my library.  Sitting at the front of the desk is something called “The Awesome Box.”  We place a book or movie in the box that someone thinks is “awesome” and folks should really check out.  Inside the box that day was the book, The Big Skinny by Carol Lay.  I think I’ve mentioned the book before. It’s a graphic novel about a  woman who changes her lifestyle and loses weight by eating healthily, counting calories and exercising.  I read it at the right time and it’s how I lost over 40 pounds.

So, a patron that I know and really like comes in. She picks the book up and says to me, “You’re not doing ‘this’ right?”  I immediately realize that she means, “You’re not bulimic or anorexic, right?”  I don’t know how I know this is what she  means, but by the rest of our conversation I do in fact know that is *exactly* what she meant.  She thought I looked too thin and was either throwing up my lunch or stopped eating.   I was speechless.

Ok. Again, I know she implied this because she cares about me.  But….what?

I was hurt.  Then I thought, “Christ. What the hell do I *look* like to people?”   And that’s when I turned to a few trusty folks to lay it all  out for me.   The general consensus is that I look lean and healthy and extraordinarily tall and society is a damn mess and doesn’t know what healthy people are supposed to look like anymore.

I like that answer.  What do *you* think?