As The Fit-Ball Rolls …

23 09 2011



Fall started as I was asleep. This means that one of my favorite seasons is about to start. Bailey gets to play Miss Bailey Plow, and I am armed with her arthritis pills. She may be 14.5 but she loves her snow. I love watching the colors change and the nip in the air.

Autumn is the season that I actually pay close attention to because it is when all the changes of the year get cemented into place and, like raking leaves, I clear away things that it is time to cart off. It is amazing that the pile of leaves is huge again this year – I sometimes find it hard to believe that it has only been 9 months!

–>Yesterday was the second anniversary of Mrs. Joan Rosenthal’s Murder. I don’t thing Marin paper is writing anything, but when your Mom loses her best friend, has to identify the body as it is sprawled dead uln the front courartyard and then handle, in true Mom-mee form, handles the press, becomes the family representative for the sons, and is still a point person for the growing cold case. The nature of the case would make a pretty interesting Movie of the Week, but they would have to find the prick who changed all our lives. 

I talked with Mom and, always a positive spin, said: “Well, Mom-mee I recall I was flying back for a race and was going to have a birthday get together with the two of you where I was going to tell you and Mrs. R about my new academic direction. Maybe she is floating around in her old role as a career counselor as I negotiate this new career.” She laughed and said “Could be.”

–> I have been shaking through the hurdles and mazes I have found myself in with respect to my racewalking. I had to shake through a lot of things, look at my influencing attitudes,  and make some decisions. The thing is that I needed to decide exactly where I wanted to place my walking in the grand scheme of my life.

I started walking in a very different point in my life and had other variables in play. Most of them were rather unhealthy. I see my injury load as being a very interesting ground upon which I learned a lot about myself and others. I learned a lot about my external drive and some odd patches of thin skin.

—> Then there is Drama. Drama on a lot of fronts. Drama is a part of life. It gives a moment to choose to deal with change or just bitch about it. Everyone has wallowed at one point or another. I know I have been shoveling piles of my own drama out to the psychic Dumpster for a couple of years.

I have wallowed at times, but since wallowing requires remembering all the mess, I would prefer to do what I am doing: Learn the lessons. Take notes. Fertilize the garden with the rest and move on. I don’t have it perfectly yet, but I have noticed that those who want to constantly remind me of my past drama or shovel theirs into my yard are usually pretty unhappy people.

I was sitting in Anatomy and Physiology class when we were discussing blood types. I am type O which means that I have anti-A and anti-B antibodies. That means that I can help anyone (Universal Donor) but blood other than mine can kill me, or at least cause some serious problems.  It is an interesting analogy because when others’ drama is taking up a lot of time, i feel sapped, sick and heavy. Dealing with my own drama has made me stronger and happier. As long as we are dealing with our drama, friends are great for ideas and sounding boards. The operative thing is dealing with our own drama and taking responsibility for its resolution!

—> I am really devoted to my team & friends partly because I have faith in them and partly because I don’t change as easily as I would like to think.

I have fairly high standards simply because I have had really low ones and impossibly high ones. I have found a happy medium, which is higher than normal, but I am selective on those categories I am high on.

Sometimes, life forces the changes. The force can simply be a new door opening for yourself or friends where crossing through changes things, but standing where you are (no matter how comfortable) will leave you behind. Sometimes they are hard jars where the train stops dead and you go flying in to the front glass. You have a choice here too: stay on the lurching train with those drama dwellers or get off,  sit on the station bench and try to reform your face. The thing I have learned is that there is a continuium between the two.

I feel like I felt the train lurching in a situation, and fortunately have jumped off the train reasonably unscathed. It is nice to realize that I have good friends at the station who I can trust to catch me as I made the decision to jump off.

“OK – you are off. Learn the lesson and get going … or get back on the train!”

I still don’t handle change well in some cases. It took me 7 years in Colorado to find a dentist. He died. It took another year, and now I have the Grouts (honest!!!) In Littleton, Colorado – forever backed up by the Bolands in Corte Madera,  California (Marin County).  I knew when my hairdresser became pregnant, I would be passed off again, but the nice thing is that she and I are pals and she’s handing me off to a friend of ours.

There are a lot of things I am not saying, but the cool thing about changes is their fear factor changes depending upon how you look at it.

Last semester I met a 20 year old athlete who came to Colorado on a soccer scholarship and was paralyzed due to a freak on field accident. Sure, when I met Courtney she was bumming until she started to take advantage of the sporting opportunities that have shown up through her time at Craig Hospital. Court just turned 21 and is amazing.

I am psyched to say that my jumping off my train early was assisted by pals like Courtney simply being them.

I was really pissed off yesterday because of nonsense that was touching me as I was trying to study for tests.  I didn’t think I was as irritated as I was until I was in TetroTime. Had it been a normal workout, I would have been ok, but it was circuit on steroids and it fed in to my wanting to kill something. I caught myself from ramping up and asked if I could racewalk around the PE building. I realized that one of the highest conglomerations of cigarette smoke clouds float around the PE building at 1:00 pm!

By the time I got to CooperLand, I was parcing the problem and realizing that it was petty but could blow up. I had a really good conversation about shoes,  racewalking, and some training with Coop, then started the workout he had prescribed. I knew, trying to keep the fit-ball under my feet that I wouldn’t finish it during class time, but the problem was already resolved.

I had to trust myself, the people on the train platform. Each platform has different people on it.  Sure life sucks at times, but it is nice to have pals.

Now if I can keep this blasted fit ball under control, life would be so much more bouncy!




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