Dahlia Loma wrote “There are only two days in the year that nothing can be done. One is called Yesterday and the other is called Tomorrow. Today is the right day to Love, Believe, Do, and mostly Live.”
The last time I wrote, I was navigating my way out of my mid-life crisis without a compass or a map. I was amidst the mid-life stage where I stopped to assess my career goals, all aspects of my personal life, and completely question my self-worth.
As I was looking back on those lessons I learned early on in sociology about life-stages, I was reminded of the wide-eyed young college girl in me. Despite all of my early efforts to pave my path to avoid the turmoil of the mid-life stage, there I was absolutely paralyzed and afraid to move forward.
I have since learned the one thing early sociologists left out in their explanations about people during this mid-life stage is that it is only one chapter in our personal stories. It is completely natural to take pause and question one’s path, especially with the sense of wisdom that comes with all of those life lessons. While the choices made during and after this stage are often times not made with the same carefree attitude and naivety as they were in our youth, they need to be made. It is certainly true our hopes and dreams later in life don’t have the same grandeur as they did in our childhood, but without hopes and dreams our souls will die a slow and painful internal death. Our more cautious, mature, and conscientious dreams should be celebrated as the insight that comes with age is a cherished gift because it helps remind us how precious and fragile life is. Of course, the choices we make with the knowledge of time and life experiences doesn’t mean mistakes are inevitable. Missteps and blunders are why we are all perfectly imperfect in our own special way.
My most important take away from all of this was the reminder that the failure in life is giving up and not trying. The story, my story, isn’t over. Life, just like any good book, needs a plot twist.
The Turning Point
You’re probably wondering how I found my way out of the downward spiral of confusion—that is a really good question. Just as I wasn’t completely sure how I ended up in the murky waters of my mid life crisis, I am not really sure how I made my way through it. I think through all of the ups and downs, twists and turns, life has a way of making you assess your priorities and leading you where you are supposed to be.
One of the pivotal turning points that helped lead me into action happened Hannah’s 5thbirthday. This is a story in itself that I will post soon, but almost losing my precious baby girl made me realize we had outgrown our townhouse and needed a change.
Also, sorrowfully during this time, my dear sweet Aunt Sherry lost her battle with ovarian cancer. Out of respect for her and my family I won’t go into a lot of details about her battle and final days. I will share she was a beautiful bright shining star, she was extremely grateful for every opportunity she was given, she was strong, wildly independent, extremely methodical, and fiercely thoughtful and cautious. She taught me so many lessons during her short time on this Earth. Even when the doctors sent her home and said there wasn’t anything they could do, she chose to live every last minute to its fullest. She was a fighter until the very end. She completed all of her unfinished business and made peace with the bridge to her crossing in the afterlife. 
During my mid-life crisis I spent a lot of time thinking about mortality. Accepting and coming to terms with mortality is a crucial stage in the aging process. Sadly, the harsh reality of death and losing the ones you love hasn’t become any easier. These two events shattered my heart and helped me assess my priorities and values. I decided balance, family, friends, my community were important to me—San Diego was where my heart belonged.
Subsequent tragedies since then including losing my dear cousin Jason unexpectedly, my sweet Charliebear, and a few esteemed colleagues and friends have validated this clarity. They have helped me appreciate and celebrate every sunrise and sunset even more. Life is so delicate, it can change and be taken away instantaneously without warning.
The Big Move
The first step I took as I was coming out of my mid-life crisis was put my townhouse on the market and started looking for a house. As you may recall right before my midlife crisis, I was supposed to put my townhouse on the market, but I backed out at the last minute. At that time, I didn’t know if I wanted to stay in San Diego. I was also questioning my sanity because I thinking of upgrading during a point in the life stage when most people are downsizing and minimizing responsibilities.
It certainly wasn’t a decision I took lightly. There were so many things I loved about my old community, particularly all of the friends I had made. I had lived in my townhouse most of my adult life. In the words of Laura Ingalls Wilder “home is the nicest word there is.” I knew what I had and I couldn’t imagine the possibilities of someplace different. As I think about it now, I realize I was so focused on what I was losing I couldn’t see how much I had to gain.
Once I made the decision to put my place on the market the search began. I had my list of must haves: a big yard for the beagles, a garage, air conditioning, and within commuting distance from my CrossFit gym and work were the top features. I was free to move anywhere in San Diego county I wanted, but I kept my search within a 5-mile radius of my neighborhood. I truly am a creature of habit.
During my search I seemed to find a lot of houses that I could make work, but there was always something that just wasn’t quite right….the house was too big, the yard was too small, it was too far from work, the street was too busy, or there was a bad omen like the house that had a dead bird on the back doorstep….As I was getting a little frustrated with the process and ready to give up, I found the perfect house! It was on a corner lot, it had a treehouse, a firepit area, a fort, a big hill for the beagles to run up, a beautiful rock wall, and a unique style inside mixed with concrete countertops and some rustic features the previous owner installed. The moment I saw it online I knew it was the one. It wasn’t a perfect house, but it was perfect for me. It seemed as though everything fell into place. Right before I found the one, I got an offer on my townhouse. The couple was willing to work with me and the timing of the purchase my house.
The second time around for the big move I was still scared. Conversations I had with a guy I was dating the year before when I was going to pull the trigger haunted me. He thought I was crazy and it was an impossible dream and venture. I hate to admit it there was some validity in his criticism because it wasn’t an easy process. Selling on contingency put me in a bad place as a seller as well as a buyer. In many ways it was a leap of faith—if the stars did not perfectly align everything would come crashing down.
It was an extremely bumpy road. Even as I was packing and the moving truck was arriving I wasn’t sure if the deal for my new house would go through because of a few glitches that were beyond my control. I reluctantly took the girls (Hannah Danielle and McKenna Rose) to the Alpine Dog Ranch for an indefinite stay and hauled my suitcase and Charliebear to my Mom’s house just in case we ended up without a place to call home. Fortunately, I had a great team on my side, my dear friend and real estate agent and my lender worked tirelessly so the pieces aligned. Mercifully, we only had a few days of uncertainty.
It’s hard to believe in September we’ll be celebrating three years in our new home. The beagles and I survived renovations and a few minor mishaps. We’ve definitely made it home. They say build it and they will come…many have come and enjoyed this magical space. I’ve hosted family, holidays, work retreats, and numerous musicians and fans. It’s hard to believe how much I could have missed if I wouldn’t have believed in myself. Looking back now through the rearview mirror, I am happy I didn’t listen to the negative voice and followed my heart and chased my dream.
Aging Fearlessly and Courageously
During my midlife crisis I was coming to terms with the physical changes in my body. Sadly, there’s no dodging that process. The chin hairs are still growing out of control and the gray hairs and wrinkles are inevitable. My hormones are still unpredictable. I am reminded of my teenage years. I am still hypersensitive. I still cry during almost every episode of Grey’s Anatomy or anything else that has any kind of emotion—happy or sad. Regarding injuries, I spent the greater part of two years in physical therapy and working with my personal trainer to heal. I continue to coddle myself and don’t lift as heavy as I am possibly capable of out of fear of re-injuring myself, but I also challenge myself run longer races more frequently. I am averaging 10-11 races a year, mostly marathons or ultramarathons.
Run…Run…Run
Despite the fact that I was focusing on healing injuries during my mid-life crisis I started running ultra marathons. I’ve lost count of the number of races I’ve ran, but can happily say I just finished my 4th Oriflamme 50K last weekend and I am preparing to run my first 100 mile race next month. I have been fortunate to run many of my races, including my first 50K, with this remarkable ultra runner, Yen Darcy. She has been such an inspiration and huge supporter.
Ironically the same guy that told me I couldn’t sell my townhouse and buy a house also discouraged my running dreams. Maybe he was right, maybe I am out of my league and don’t have any business being out on the trail. Despite the success of my first 60-mile race last year, I DNF’d (did not finish), both of my 50-mile attempts. I have also earned the spot of DFL (dead fricking last) more than once. I spent the first two years in physical therapy and working with my personal trainer after each race to help put my body back together for the next adventure. If you look at my medical record you will probably see a familiar story...."I ran a 50K on Saturday and now....by the way, will I be healed in time to run next weekend?"
Fred DeVito wrote “if it doesn’t challenge you, it won’t change you.” This is an important lesson I’ve learned as a runner and especially as an ultramarathoner. Each training run, each race, pushes me beyond my limits physically and mentally. I remember when I got to the start line of the Red Rock trail marathon it was 38 degrees, windy, and rain was in the forecast. As I was sitting in the warm heated tent I heard other runners talk about the three creek crossings (which really meant six because it was a point-to-point race, with the first one being within the first mile of the race. Despite the fact I grew up in the Midwest, I am a wimp when it comes to cold weather and even wimpier when cold water is involved. I was really tempted to earn my first DNS (did not start). I even held back and was the last runner to cross the start line. Somehow, I mustered up the courage and started the long run. I made it through the creek crossings and held my own until it started raining and the trail turned to mud. As I was making my way back through the mountains to the finish line I could barely run because there was so much mud on my shoes. When I started to make the descent down a hill I knew I was either going down or I was going over the edge. As I slid down the hill I injured my knee. I was still 6 miles from the finish line. Too far forward to turn back. As I was hobble back towards the finish, several of the runners from the 50-mile race passed me. As I watched them zoom by, I hobbled my way back and finished the race. I think it took me about 10 hours, but I made it. That race, like many others, forever changed me and made me a little more courageous and fearless.
Overtime, I have developed my core, and changed my running form. While I have not become much faster, I am stronger. My recovery time is much shorter. Often times I will run a 50K on Saturday, wake up early the next morning for personal training and then meet friends for an 18-mile walk. In an effort to increase my strength I have started running all of my road races with a 14-pound weighted vest. There’s a reason it hasn’t caught on and I’m the only crazy one on the course carrying extra weight on purpose—it is a lot harder.
Some have asked what am I running away from. Perhaps the more appropriate question would be what am I running towards. Being part of the ultra-running community is an unexplainable experience. I have met and ran in the footsteps of so many remarkable athletes, each with their own story and motivation. A lot of them overcoming tremendous obstacles. Last year when I ran Oriflamme I had an opportunity to talk with Matt, he was 72. He told me a story about how he fell running the race one year and despite the fact he broke his back and his arm he finished the race. This year I ran a few miles with Vic, he’s 78. When I was running the Born to Run 60 mile race I had the opportunity to meet and talk with runners who were doing the 4 Day race. I had the pleasure of meeting Ed Ettinghausen. I knew him as the Jester, as I had seen him at several marathons running in a Jester outfit. He told me the story about his DNF at the Los Angeles Marathon several years back. He is a legend, in 2014 he ran his 100thhundred-mile race.
Leaving Ed Behind
I am celebrating 12 years since I started recovery from my eating disorder. I haven’t been completely without an incident these past 12 years, but my motivation to stay healthy keeps me from spiraling back into the madness of Ed. First and foremost, I know if I want to live I can’t get sucked back in. If you’ve read my story you know I was at a very low point when I entered treatment. I was completely falling apart and had a lot of health complications, including osteopenia at the age of 33. I also know I have to be in top physical shape to do what I do, running or CrossFit. Nutrition is everything for an athlete. I know my body has changed a lot these past 12 years, but I’ve learned to embrace it and love myself.
Matters of The Heart—Learning to be Me!
I ended my last post about being single with these words
“Along with tearing down walls, I am learning to be happy and accept being single. It’s not easy that’s for sure. Embracing being single is like trying to spin the world the other way. For whatever reason this is my path. Fortunately, Randi Driscoll reminds me “If the shoe doesn’t fit don’t break the glass trying…”.
During these past few years I have spent countless hours listening to Randi’s song “Cinderella Left the Ball.” It has empowered me and helped me realize I have a choice in the madness of being single. In fact, as I was climbing my way out of my mid-life crisis I decided to leave the ball and I haven’t gone back. It’s hard to believe it has been nearly two years since I’ve gone out on a date.
A few pivotal events led me to this decision, but the most profound and impactful moment was a passing conversation I had with a dear friend. We were catching up on life as we were walking through the fine art exhibit at the Fair. I was telling her about the fall of my last relationship. Whilst I was painting the picture of the collapse, explaining how challenging it was for me because no matter what we did he couldn’t seem to quit talking about his ex and I how I slowly drowned in her memory, she just looked at me and said I was a better person when I wasn’t dating.
Although those words stung, and I still cry when I think about the genuineness behind them, they were exactly what I needed to hear. They led me into a deep dive reflection into the chronicles of my jaded (and elusive) heart—the dating disasters that checkered most of my adult life. In that deep dark tearstained pool of reflection all of the breakup moments flashed before my eyes. Most of the images of my failed relationships included visions of “him” walking away with “her” on his arm. The others included images of the remnants of unmet expectations and the reality no matter how well we matched on paper my heart was also the one that couldn’t fall.
As I relived the memories and the heartbreaks, I was led to the conclusion that was so obvious, but somehow, I seemed to miss along the way. The common denominator in each broken relationship was ME. Even my last failed relationship was the result of my own insecurities. Instead of fighting back and trying to show him that I was worthy, I retreated and withdrew because I felt inadequate, like I could never measure up to the memories of his past he couldn’t seem to let go of. I knew I couldn’t commit to a lifetime of living in her shadow and this may sound selfish, but I also knew he would never be able to see me with all of the stars in his eyes while he was holding on to the image of what once was.
Looking back at all of the heartbreak through a fresh lens I realized the “he” in my story always chose to be with “her” because I was not the girl, I could not love him the way she could. I also recognized in other situations I walked away because my heart knew it needed something more, something deeper, something real. I am a relationship person, that’s a piece of me I will never be able to change. The hopeless romantic part of “me” that wanted to love and be loved made me chase a million empty dreams and enabled me to get entangled in “superficial” relationships. Every time I chased those dreams, I was the poster image for Jimmy Lee’s song “Looking for Love in all the Wrong Places.” Instead of ending up where I thought I needed to be and finding my soul mate, I lost a little piece of my heart, soul, faith, and optimism.
The moment when I admitted I was the reason things never worked out was when I quit referring to myself as the woman men dated while they were falling in love with other women and labeled myself “un-dateable.”
Un-dateable, I know I need to unpack that idea because even when I read it, I know how pathetic it sounds. I admit when I first came to the realization that I was the common link I slumped into a pitty Penelope party and bashed myself for not being pretty enough, thin enough, strong enough, funny enough, rich enough, fast independent enough or too pretty, too independent, too quirky, too strong, too open, too outgoing, too boring.…. Time and observation helped me realize I was/am not alone. I have so many amazing female friends who are in my same situation. I would never let them engage in such negative self-talk. I would tell them the same thing my dear friend Irene always tells me, “be kind to yourself.”
Unquestionably, sometimes I search online and think about taking the plunge back into the dating pool again. Then I remember what happened during the first year of my dating sabbatical when I put my toe back in the water and posted my profile. I had started chatting with a guy who had potential. When we got close to finally meeting, he posted several additional photos including a bedroom selfie of him in what looked like boxers and a tank top. In the background there was an image of his bed embellished with a red velvet bedspread. That was enough to send me running for the hills. So many thoughts entered my mind. He was definitely looking for something differently than I was. I immediately closed my profile.
Honestly, since I am a relationship person, I miss that giddy feeling of a new crush. I miss having the image of that special someone popping into my mind first thing when I wake up in the morning or looking forward to an event knowing I may get a glimpse of them. Nonetheless, I always stop myself from clicking the button and making my profile visible again because I know in my heart, I am not going to find what I need on the other side of the screen. Love, like a lady bug, is not something you can just find.
This Cinderella also ran away from the ball because all of those years dating Mr. Wrong I learned a lot of painful lessons, sometimes more than once, okay maybe I learned the same lesson a dozen or so times because I just quite didn’t get message the first time. Through my reflections I learned the chronicles to my jaded (elusive heart) was a long road to a short distance. The epiphany continues to validate my decision to steer clear of the dating madness. I feel like I have learned the lessons I need to learn when it comes to matters of the heart. Right now, I am not the girl, it is not my time, and being in a relationship is not my path. Therefore, it is necessary for me to take the time to focus on learning the lessons of being single.
I often joke there are thousands of reasons why I am still single, but the number one reason is I am not available, my heart is not ready. I still believe in true love, I have witnessed it among many friends, and maybe even felt a small piece of it a very, very long time ago. I will go back to the ball when I am finally able to love with a full and open heart. Until then I will be okay! I’m mastering the art of being a single gal!
Looking Towards the Horizon
So you’re probably wondering where do I go from here? What is next? Honestly, I don’t know. I have so much on my to do list, I don’t even know where to start. I know I will continue to have my ups and downs. My intention this year is altruism, I am trying to volunteer and give back as much as I can. I have a few house projects I want to finish, including finishing Charlie's memorial garden and I hope to continue to write. I have a few other posts I need to complete. I also have an overzealous race schedule. In a few weeks I will pace my sister for her first marathon and then I will run my first 100 mile race with Yen. I may be adding three additional races, including a 50 mile race to my fall schedule. I cannot complain! I live a very blessed life.
