Silver Lining

I am happy to report I have officially closed the tear stained door with Mr. Greek Chicken.  There was another little stab in the heart after the dreaded run-in with him, his family and the slinky new blond.  Somehow he felt it would make me feel better if I knew she was a flame from the past he just could no longer deny his bond with. Of course, that sent me into what Kasey Musgrave would call the “wrong side of rock bottom.”  I went into a downward spiral trying to put the broken pieces of the puzzle together. Although the subtle clues started to make sense, I couldn’t help but wonder where was I when this bond was being rekindled?  I delved into negative self-talk and self-doubt.  I don’t know why I was surprised, it’s not the first time this sort of thing has happened and certainly won’t be the last.  After all I seem to have this magical gift of sending men running off into the arms of other women.  It’s almost comical; now that a little time has passed I can actually laugh about, wish them well and move forward. 

I have to say one of the challenges of letting go of Ed is facing heartaches, disappointments, and obstacles head on.  In the past I could just get lost in an episode of self-destruction and emotional release. Now, I don’t have that form of self-medication and I can’t drink to forget because I’ve never had alcohol.  I have no choice but plough through the pain and heal naturally.  In the end it’s better than a temporary band-aid because tears flush out the toxicity and the wounds truly heal.   

Fortunately, like Kasey sings in her song  (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rv9spwIMiqM ) there’s a silver lining after a cloudy day.  If you’re willing to take on the bees, you will find the honey.  If you are willing to get a little dirty you will find a four-leaf clover, if you go to the dance you will find a shoulder to lean on.  I still haven’t figured out the purpose of Mr. GC entering my life, surely it can't be to add another broken brick on the wall of the chronicles of my jaded heart, as I have discovered my world is full of life without him.  So many new doors have opened. 

I’ve finally started writing more in my blog and sharing my story. If not just for entertainment, but to help others who have ever despised the face and body they saw in the mirror or who have ever felt their self worth or success was being measured by the number on the scale or the size of their jeans.  I am finally speaking out for those who have turned down food or gone to extreme measures to “get rid” of it in fear of gaining weight.   I am speaking out for anyone who has an eating disorder, anyone who has loved someone with an eating disorder (ED), or any other obstacle in this crazy world we call life.  I’ve embarked on a whole new journey of self-discovery.  I am cultivating friendships, new and old, exploring the beautiful city I am so blessed to live in.  For that I am grateful. 

The Slow Climb

I just finished nursing the open burn on my finger, the rope marks imprinted on my calves, and various other blisters on my fingers.  They’re all battle scars, souvenirs, from a CrossFit WOD (workout of the day) I did a few nights ago.  The most challenging part of the WOD was the 15 rope climbs, 17 feet each, for a combined total of 255 feet.  Even though it took me a good 20 minutes longer to complete it than the few others who even attempted the challenge that day, I am still feeling very accomplished. 

I can’t help but reminisce about my first rope climb and how each one after that has felt like a personal feat.  

It’s safe to say I do not have an athletic bone in my body.   When I was a child I was always reading or playing with my dolls and stuffed animals.  I remember in elementary school when we played dodge ball our PE teacher would appoint the most athletic kids to be team captain. One by one they would take turns selecting who would be lucky enough to be on their team.  I would just sit there, kind of shy and embarrassed feeling really sorry for whoever ended up with me.  I know they secretly hoped they wouldn’t get stuck with me.  Inevitably I was always the last one chosen and the first one out.

My hand/eye coordination didn’t change as I entered junior high and high school.  I tried out for the basketball team my 7^th grade year, but that was before the days when everyone made the team in some form.  Needless to say, I wasn’t chosen.  I’m probably the only batter who has ever successfully hit themselves in the face with a softball.  I took clogging lessons (that’s what you do when you’re raised in the backwoods of Missouri), but I wasn’t a dancer either.  Not only was I lacking rhythmic skills, I was kind of klutzy and awkward.  Everyone would dance off to the left and I predictably turned to the right.  I envied my sister because she was so graceful and talented.  She had the moves down; she traveled with the performance group. The only performing I ever did was at our family reunion in Arkansas—family loves you and thinks your adorable no matter what. 

As a young undergraduate student I did everything I could to avoid taking physical education classes.  I didn’t even earn my associate degree because I didn’t want to take PE.  Working out for me consisted of picking up books and walking from my car across campus to class. My habits didn’t change very much as I transitioned to a graduate student, entered the workforce, and the early years when I first started my doctorate.   Recall during this time I was completely entrenched with Ed (my eating disorder).  Aside from graduating, losing weight or at least maintaining it through very unhealthy means was my primary focus.  I lived to please Ed. 

Fast forward to August 1, 2011 I was well into recovery from Ed, gaining more and more strength each day and climbing the rope for the very first time.  I still vividly remember that day.  My friend Laurie was the one who encouraged me to do it.

 [An aside, Laurie is absolutely an amazing woman.  I know I sound like Desiree on the bachelorette talking about the 25 men she’s weeding through to find true love…she always raved on and on about how amazing they were.  Seriously, I am proud to say I am fortunate to have some really remarkable friends.  Laurie, a wife, mother of twin girls (toddlers) and full-time professional is not only one of the sweetest most beautiful women I know, she’s also pretty much a bad ass when it comes to CrossFit.  She caught onto everything really quickly.  She was effortlessly picking up weights like they were feathers, doing pull-ups, double unders, and rope climbs way before I was.  Even now when life takes her away from the gym she comes back and still runs circles around me within a few days.]

Okay, back to the story about my first rope climb.  We had just finished class a few minutes early.  Laurie went over with me to the rope and showed me how to wrap it around my leg in order to get the best grip to make the climb.  I had tried it a few times before, but was never successful.  For whatever reason I was determined to conquer the rope that day.  It helped that Laurie, Adam, and our coach Paul were all there to cheer me on.  I remember wanting to stop when I was halfway up the rope, but I could hear the cheers from Laurie, Adam, Paul and everyone else in the gym “go Shelly, you got this.”  Inside all I could think about was it wouldn’t count as a PR unless I touched the beam 17 feet up.  The combined internal strength from within and the support got me up the rope. 

The support continues to grow. On Wednesday I was the last one finishing the workout (ironically no one else choose that option in my class).  I remember feeling very fatigued, my body shaking as I was finishing that last few climbs.  I wanted to quit, but I knew that wasn't an option. Not only was I determined to finish the challenge, I had a large support group, everyone in the gym was cheering me on and encouraging me to finish it.  The support was the magic energy

I needed to help me finish.

Every climb since then has been a personal victory.  I always think of the little girl who was never able to climb the rope when we had to take the President’s Physical Fitness test in grade school, the awkward girl in PE class that was always chosen last, the girl(woman) suppressed by the intimidation from Ed for so many years.  Even though it may be a slow climb inching my way up the rope each time, it’s a climb.  A personal victory, personal accomplishment, that helps me continue to build strength.  

Rainbows and Smiles...I Choose Happiness

People who know me usually describe me as a woman with class and grace.  I am definitely far from being perfect and every woman has an inner beeotch that sometimes cannot be tamed.  Nonetheless, a majority of the time I take the obstacles that come across my path in stride. 

Yesterday, God was definitely testing my threshold.  I had just turned the corner of the month break up with Mr. Greek Chicken only to run into him at a function with the new slinky blond I had heard so much whispering about from friends.  The real stab of the knife in the heart was not the validation of what I already knew in the pit of my female instinctive gut, but seeing them together with his family, his children and his parents.  The people who had so welcomed me into their world not just a handful of weeks ago.  To top it off, the humiliation that I was yesterday’s news, such an insignificant piece of his world, was witnessed by so many of our friends, my friends.

It was a surefire moment of fight or flight.  I had options, I could have left the event, but that wouldn’t have been fair to me, I was there to support the athletes from my gym.  I could have caused a scene, but lets face it I am not really good at theatrics. My only other option was to put my traits of class and grace into high gear.  I discretely wiped my tears away, put on my best smile and held my head high. [Thank goodness I didn’t pull a roll out of bed style attempt.  I actually put some effort into getting ready that morning.  Hair down, a little bit of make up on, my lucky rings, adorable seaside necklace the beagles gave me for my birthday that year, cute little white tank top, flirty Daisy Dukes shorts, and just the right size heel]. 

I’m not going to lie it was a difficult day for me. Looking back now even though it’s not my forte some theatrics mixed with some eye plucking would have been a lot easier.  Thank goodness for my friends.  There is no way I would have made it through the inevitable talking with the family, the fake hug I gave Mr. GC, and all of the other awkwardness without the support of my friends.  Which leads me to the next part of my story…

Anaïs Nin wrote “you are in charge of how you react to the people and events in your life.  You can either give negativity power over your life or you can choose happiness instead.  Take control and choose to focus on what is important in your life.  Those who cannot live fully often become destroyers of life.” 

These words of wisdom are so empowering. Especially when you’re in the state of deficit I was in yesterday.  Instead of focusing on the perceived loss of what was missing in my life, I took pause to reflect and embrace the joys, the gifts, the blessings I have.  Friendship (family) is the greatest gift of all.  I am so fortunate to have a fabulous friendship network of people who really care.  I know no matter what happens in this world there are people I can turn to, people I can count on.  We laugh together, cry together, celebrate victories and mourn losses. 

I also cherish my inner strength and independence.  This isn’t something I’ve always had. As a little girl I was afraid of the world, afraid of my own shadow, afraid of imperfection. Through being single and self-reliant I have taken on so many challenges.  Whether it’s a new plumbing issue, supporting myself and my 3 beagles, DIY projects, speaking in front of a crowd or exploring unchartered territory I am ready to take it on even if it means confronting my fears.  

I am blessed with a full life.  There’s never a dull moment, I am never bored, there’s always something to do.  A movie to watch, a picture to paint, a blog to write, a concert to listen to, a marathon to run, a crossfit WOD to complete, a new personal record to achieve, a beagle to hug, a friend to call, or a social event to attend. Life is  such beautiful learning experience. 

I am privileged to have my dream job.  I still remember as a young graduate student after a guest speaker I told my mentor “I want to be a dean of curriculum.”  I’m not going to lie, it’s not a job without challenges.  There are days when I want to beat my head against the wall.  For the most part, I love the challenges and opportunities.  I have the luxury of working with the most amazing group of professionals.    We have an awesome team that pulls together and does whatever it takes to get the job finished.

I am happy that I am able to share all of my blessings with others--friends, family and even strangers.  Volunteering my time is such an integral part of my life.  I always try to leave things the way I find them or just a little better.  I try to give back as much as I can.  Whether it's helping dig a trench for the Habitat for Humanity, helping judge the Fittest Fireman Competition, putting on a race for the Wounded Warrior Project or feeding the homeless on Christmas morning, it's my way of giving a helping hand and giving back to the world.  

This is just the tip of the iceberg, there are so many other facets of my life that I am grateful for.   I am sure I will write about them in the near future.  These are the ones that helped me see the rainbow, put a smile back on my face and conquer the most recent obstacle that crossed my path with poise, class and grace.  

Potpourri of Thoughts

Wow, I can’t believe it’s already Thursday. It’s been a very hectic week.  There’s been so much happening, but I haven’t really had quiet time to sit down and write out my thoughts.  My mind has also been spinning in so many different directions I haven’t been able to choose one topic.  Do I write about my personal challenges with Ed?  Or about the consequences of unintentional communication, you know the proverbial insert foot in mouth here?  Or regaining my equilibrium as Wednesday marked one month since the official break up with Greek Chicken?  Or the discovery of my attachment style and what that means for me?  Or about all of the blessings I have in my life? 

My mind will have to keep churning, I promise to focus within the next few days.   Meanwhile if you have a preference for a story topic please leave a comment.   

Angels and Eagles

The handsome man from Boulder called me as I was driving home from CrossFit on Monday night. He admitted his regret for not keeping me all day on Sunday.  I wistfully agreed.  Thinking we had an eternity to make up for it, he burst my blissful bubble when he told me he was heading home the next evening after his workshop ended.  It couldn’t be!  There was so much more to say, so much more to learn. 

Fast thinking I quickly offered to pick him up for dinner and drop him off at the airport in time for his flight.  Astonished but happy, he graciously agreed.  We talked on the phone during my whole drive home.  A conversation of playful banter mixed in with his excitement about all he was learning. 

As agreed I picked him up from his hotel promptly at 5:30 the next evening.  He was looking handsome as ever in his designer jeans and casual shirt. Honestly, I can’t remember what color his shirt was. I just remember watching him put his red suitcase in my trunk and noticing how brightly his smile shined  especially since he  had freshly shaved. 

Since our time was limited I had narrowed dinner options to Little Italy or Point Loma.  He opted for Little Italy.  Parking was crazy as always especially for me because I can’t parallel park.  I opted for an open space in a yellow commercial zone.  Hmmm 5:40, 6:00…what’s the difference?  Close enough right? 

We had a quaint dinner at a little Italian restaurant.  It was stuffed avocado salad for him and strawberry fields salad for me.  We probably could have skipped dinner, the poor waiter had to come back five times before we were actually ready to order because we were so deep in conversation we didn’t even look at the menu.  I was intrigued by his zest for life.  He was very intelligent, with a lot of integrity, confidence and poise.  I could have talked to him all night, but planes do not wait. 

We walked back to my car.  He noticed it first that I had a ticket.  Yes, the dreaded yellow envelope was secured on my windshield!  Darn it, I should have opted for a public lot.  I knew I was playing Russian roulette when I parked there.  Actually more like the firing squad, my car was the perfect target for an easy ticket during the witching hour.  He grabbed the ticket and insisted on paying it.  I couldn’t get it away from him before he shoved it down his pocket. Had I been feeling a little more daring I would have went for it , but my shyness took over. 

The drive to the airport went way too quickly. There we were, time to let him go.  I had secretly been wondering all day would we kiss?  I must have put too much pressure on myself thinking about it.  A long lingering hug and then I was watching him walk away. One quick glance back with a big grin on his face as I was thinking to myself how darn cute he was. 

That was it!  Just like I had heard so many times listening to Eve Selis sing, the handsome man from Boulder was getting ready to fly away.

Like an angel, like an eagle

I know I have to let you fly

Where the world is just a small thing

When you see it from so high

May you breathe in all the freedom

You'll find dancing in the air

If I could give you anything at all

I'd give you everywhere

Like an angel, like an eagle

Poof just as quickly as it all began he would be gone.  No kisses in my memory, but cherished images of great conversation and that last long hug.

There are no coincidences. There’s always a reason for everything that happens in our lives.  I am not completely sure why the Handsome Man from Boulder crossed my path. Was he the distraction I needed to let go of GC once and for all?  Or perhaps a lesson for me to learn that while I had professed to completely giving up on love, there is a place in my heart that does not really want to let go of the dream I’ve so yearned for.   It would not be him, distance and time were against us.   I still have so many more things I need to learn about loving myself before I can create that bond with a man.  Perhaps meeting him was the glimpse of hope I needed to show me there will be love in my future even if it is someday on the distant horizon.  

The Handsome Man from Boulder

Continued from “Eve Selis Band, Firecracker Shrimp and Folsom Prison Blues."

The energy flowed between the handsome man from Boulder and me throughout the evening as we listened to the Eve, Mark, Larry and Rick.  At one point during the conversation I asked if he was into CrossFit.  Something told me about the way he carried himself he was a fellow CrossFitter.  He was very surprised and immediately asked to see my calloused hands—the badge of honor from doing pull-ups, swinging kettle bells, snatches, jerks and thrusters with the barbell.  We talked about our workouts…burpees, learning double unders, box jumps, rope burns, ass crack rashes, and anything else that came to mind.  The discussion naturally led to an invitation to my gym while he was in town.  The plans were set, I would pick him up the next morning at his hotel and we would go to my gym for “Sunday Funday.” 

After we said our goodbyes for the evening, the morning couldn’t come fast enough. I felt like a giddy girl in school as I was anxiously waiting for the sun to rise.  Sure I always enjoy our weekly mile sandwich house of cards, but I was really looking forward to seeing his bright smile, tantalizing eyes and hearing his contagious laugh. 

As promised I picked him up bright and early.  He must have been a little distracted too because he forgot the donuts he bought us on the table.  Jokingly I told him not to get worried as we were driving because it would seem kind of far.  I promised I wasn’t going to kidnap him.  Somehow I don’t think he would have cared. 

Once we arrived I introduced him to everyone and showed him around the gym. I had him try out my RX Jump Rope, the BEST jump rope ever.  We ran a mile, did the house of cards workout and ran another mile.  No, house of cards is not a fancy poker game.  We get a deck of cards and assign each suit an exercise. For example,  diamonds are sit ups, hearts are wall balls, spades are overhead walking lunges, and clubs are kettle bell swings. Then we choose one card at a time and proceed to do as many reps as the number on the card (9 sit ups, 2 wall balls, etc.) until the deck is finished. 

Although we were exhausted once we completed the workout I don’t think either of us were really ready for the day to end.  We had breakfast at cute little restaurant near Balboa Park.  Chatting like old friends, there was never a moment of awkward silence.  Once breakfast was over I dropped him off and continued my Sunday shopping and doing chores.  If I would have been thinking I would have taken him to La Jolla and suggested walking around the cove or some other sightseeing.