I feel lucky today, and I’m relishing it like a kid with a fistful of cake. 

(shamrock shuffle 4k, meg on the left with a four leaf clover around her neck, me on the right in ridiculous shamrock socks and shamrock barettes)

It’s beautiful outside, and I’ve done nothing but play all weekend.  I desperately needed some downtime, and for me that simply meant time without stressing about things I can’t control or worrying about the impact the year and a half has had on the girls, or keeping up with the messes in my life, or how far behind I am in my work, or how I’m unemployed and can’t seem to make corporations understand that small business owners DO have something to contribute to their bottom line. 

I didn’t really think about any of these things. 

Friday I went to a wine party at a friend of a Edwin’s house.  Neither of us could really drink since we were both running in the morning, but we enjoyed ourselves and I met some new people.  The theme was Irish/St. Patty’s Day (of course) so everyone was asked to bring a “bottle of Irish Wine or, failing that, a green bottle of wine”.  I asked my friend Susan who is editor in chief of a big wine magazine for her thoughts.  Her response?  “Irish Wine?  It’s called whiskey.”  Someone even brought Boone’s Farm which made me crack up. 

I was in a pretty good mood Friday night. I had something unexpected happen, which is going to help me in a significant way.  Out of the bitter aftertaste of divorce, some money I wasn’t expected landed on my doorstep and it enables me to pay off the rest of the outstanding marital debt.  This will free up a few bucks monthly so my budget won’t be as tight, and I actually might be able to save some money each month instead of being in the red.  Additionally there is enough left over to help me with a down payment on a house next year.  The “why” of the money is sad, but the result of the money is happy and very necessary right now.  I was honestly at a breaking point with my finances, and hearing that I hadn’t gotten a job I felt I was entirely qualified for (and was frankly something I could have done half asleep, one arm tied behind my back, and with one eye closed) put me in quite a funk.  My new situation doesn’t mean I don’t have to go back to work, but it does mean I can take my time finding the RIGHT job instead of ANY job. 

This also enabled me to replace my aging running shoes.  I was trying to stretch them through the Shamrock Half Marathon next weekend, but frankly my aching arches weren’t making for fun runs.  What does a running nerd buy when a little bit of extra cash comes her way? 

(from left to right, Asics Hera socks, Saucony racing flats, Sport Beans, and the new version of Brooks Defyance 4 - my shoe of choice)

Whether the racing flats will help me in my short distance races I do not know, but I do know that the few laps I took around Road Runners convinced me.  It’s like running with nothing on my feet.  They only weigh a few ounces. 

Saturday morning, I met the YMCA 10K training team and my running buddies Meg, Sarah and Joe for our scheduled 7 miles.  We were in a hurry because we were trying to make a 9 AM race - the Shamrock Shuffle 4k.  Edwin came with me so we could ride to the race together.  Usually the training routes are flat and suburban, but some sadist in charge decided to run us across a major road into an area under construction.  It was like running on a camel’s back.  Hill after hill after hill.  After hill.  Did I mention more hills?  By the time we finished, my hamstrings and glutes were killing me and the only thing I wanted to run to was caffeine and a soft bed.  Or perhaps a masseuse. 

Instead, we caravaned down to Palani Drive for the 4k.  I know lots of people were laughing at the distance - a 4k???  Is that even worth getting into your racing clothes?  A resounding yes is my answer to the question.  By far, that was the most fun distance I’ve ever run.  Despite the car ride helping my muscles to freeze in place, once we got out and started stretching we were ready to go.  Edwin took 1st place in his age group and 3rd overall - AFTER running the 7.  I was quite pleased with my time as well, considering how this course had hills (damn you Mark Junkermann) and I was very fatigued.  My total time was 26:12.  Next year, I’m running it without anything other than a warm-up jog beforehand and giving it every ounce of stamina and speed I have. 

Sarah’s husband Tim met up with Edwin and me at Galaxy Diner for some much needed grease and coffee.  After buying my geeky running stuff, I took a huge nap in which I slept so hard I drooled and probably snored louder than any dog or sleep apnea-affected person.  Edwin did man stuff that I’ve been avoiding - and really, the only stuff I refer to as “man” is generally involving measurements, straight lines, and fractions.  He hung some things on Lily and Arden’s walls that have been sitting in closets since I moved to this house in (ahem) last May.  I hope they are excited to see it. 

We had dinner with Edwin’s mom after waiting an exceedingly long time at Dead Red Lobster.  A “20 minute wait” was actually an hour and 20 minutes.  We scarfed down massive quantities of overly-buttered fish-like entrees and headed back out again to see Dean Fields at Capital Ale.  I couldn’t really tell if Edwin’s friend Bob liked him, but we had a great time.  It was a fairly intimate and low-key setting, and he played some of my favorites including “Carrie’s Feet” and “LA”.  If you haven’t heard Dean, I suggest you give him a listen.  You can see the video for his new single here:

(oh yeah, he’s from Richmond too)

Today I cheered on some of my favorite runners from a warm and cozy chair at Ellwood Thompson’s . . . Theresa, Prissie, Gina, Edwin, and briefly waved hi to Theresa’s hubby Todd as he biked out of the parking lot at Dogwood Dell.  I’m always inspired to see people, especially those of us with kids, getting up at the crack of dawn to be outside, exercise, socialize, and go back home to our children refreshed and somewhat muddy.  It’s a great example to set for them, and hopefully my kids will grow up in a much less sedentary lifestyle than I did. 

Now it’s off to do some housework that is badly needed, after opening the windows in my house to let the spring air in.  I just feel singularly fortunate today.  I appreciate the silence as much as I appreciated being surrounded by people I love all weekend.  In addition to my friends, I’m seeing someone who is regularly described by others with words like solid, funny, talks-a-lot, trustworthy, loyal, dependable, unshakable, very bald and occasionally, captain oblivious.  I’ve suffered a great deal for an extended period of time.  This weekend, I felt some of the heaviness and oppressive thoughts lifting.  I can sense the corner is nearby, though I don’t really believe in corners unless you know that turning a corner inevitably leads to another corner you must turn as well. 

Here’s to a new set of corners. 

I could just leave it at the picture, because yes, it’s worth 1000 words, but some explanation is in order.

Philip’s still in Northern Michigan (none of us are sure why) and his hands get cold in the office.  Since he has a cushy desk job, he needs to use his computer a lot with all of that number crunching nonsense us marketing people don’t understand.  During a quick trip through NYE he saw some cheap fingerless gloves and thought, “Voila! Problem solved!”* 

Note the cuffed pressed shirt and sweater.  Nothing says “professional” like business casual attire with Twilight: Eclipse fingerless gloves.**

I am still laughing.  The fact that he can walk around with them on, drinking coffee and makin’ copies, is why I love him. 

*pretty sure he didn’t say “Voila!” because he just wouldn’t, but it was fun writing his lines for him. 

**this is why people shouldn’t send me funny pictures. I end up blogging them. 

I got an email today from Lily’s teacher, explaining that Lily had been crying in school today over some homework she’d done.  She said it wasn’t perfect and it made her upset.  That is fairly unusual for Lily (the crying, not the perfectionism - that she comes by honestly from her mother).  A little digging from the teacher and Lily said something about Arden keeping her up at night and hurting her feelings. 

While that may be true, or at least partially, I think Lily has an easier time explaining her sadness by attributing it to outside sources (like missing her best friend, her house, or the art teacher at her old school) than explaining what is the real source of her sadness.  This of course makes it sound like I understand the source, and while I think I do, I could be wrong.

It disturbed me to get an email about Lily, because usually she is the quiet laid-back one, always pleasing everyone.  I find it ironic that as I hit the wall with my people-pleasing ways over the last few weeks, Lily also has had enough.  She is sensitive and caring and worries about others.  Normally I find this to be endearing and sweet, but right now it has me worried.  Am I raising a codependent?  That’s all very dramatic, but I do worry about the future.  I’ve spent a lot of time worrying more about others than I do about myself, and making their happiness my sole purpose in life.  While it’s very martyr-like, it’s not particularly healthy.

My neighbor has Arden for the next hour so I can do homework with Lily and hopefully talk with her privately about everything.  I’m in a weird place too, so let’s hope I can put my mom hat on and rock out the understanding, kind and awesome mommy role. 

The final divorce decree came in the mail.  I knew it was coming; my lawyer had needed my address so when I saw his firm name on the envelope I was fairly certain what was going to be inside it.  I did okay with it but as I said on Facebook, seeing 12 years of your life and 2 kids summed up in four legal sounding pages is frankly bizarre. 

Susan spent the last few days in Richmond.  She sent ME a thank you note after, which is also bizarre (but totally like her).  We have an incredibly strong friendship.  I don’t know how it was that we formed the kind of bond we have, but it’s one of those that lasts until we’re both decrepit and old and smell really bad.  Having her here helped.  She’s very honest with me, but gentle about it.  She knows how to talk to me without getting my hackles up, but she can also directly tell me when she thinks I’m making bad decisions, being too hard on myself, or being generally nutty. 

It was interesting hearing her describe her version of my life back to me.  She said it sounded exhausting.  She thinks I do way too much and am spread too thinly.  Because it’s normal for me, I don’t think much of it.  It’s just how I am.  If I sit around too much I turn into a sloth and grow long toenails to help me hang from tree branches while I stuff my face with grapes and dew drops.  In all seriousness, I’m either going 100mph or I’m drooling on myself, face down on a floor somewhere.  Like everything else in my life, the gray area is hard to find. 

I’ve tried to cut back on things, and I’ve tried - really hard - to cut the bad or toxic things out of my life too.  Some days are better than others.  I’m just glad she was able to neglect her own family to help me take care of mine.  It meant a lot, and got me over the worst hump in recent memory.  As much as she’s a friend, she’s also a great teacher - she shows without telling, and corrects without demeaning. 

Really, all one needs is eclairs and friends.

Truth 1:

I am coming out of the worst depressive episode of my life.  It lasted from approximately December 17th through yesterday morning.  I don’t do math, but that equals a lot of days and nights.  “Bad” days prior to this lasted as described - a day or two.  I shored myself up, waited it out.  This time, the rules were completely different.  Starting the day I received the notice that my divorce had been finalized, it went downhill from there.  I think I had expected the divorce to make me feel free.  Instead, I simply felt unmoored - like I was floating over a huge expanse of ocean with nothing and no one to hold me.  There was a huge financial pressure squeezing me, the behavioral changes in my kids, this house I live in, a year of crappy and unreliable relationships, drowning in some sort of codependent nightmare relationship with a close friend, losing the image of what my life was supposed to look like while frantically trying to rebuild a new and better picture of the future that will be.  Health issues, a year spent running - literally and figuratively, aging parents, the usual and standard self-loathing of my physical body refusing to conform fast enough for my ever-persistent need to be different, better, improved.  A year and half worth of therapy that has made me strong but so self-aware that I can get away with nothing anymore, and when bad habits shed their disguises, they are no fun. 

I am terrible at seeing myself from the outside.  To me, yes, the previous year had been difficult.  It wasn’t until Jennifer made me add up all of the pieces, especially over the past couple of months that I realized how much I’d really been through.

I refuse to get into the details of the last couple of weeks.  It’s ugly and it’s humiliating and it’s just frankly disappointing that I fall back into old patterns and old vices when the shit hits the fan.  I’m all about outing myself and my silliness if I can think it will help someone else, but this won’t.  Nothing good will come of discussing the true low I hit and I’m not going to put myself through it. 

The worst of the depression revolved around my self-doubt.  It includes thinking that I cannot make good decisions, or that I will be able to have healthy relationships down the road, or that I will ever be able to throw the yoke of despair off me forever.  It’s quite possible that I won’t, but Jennifer’s diagram of what has happened to me over the past few months made it easier to see that all of this “stuff” combined with the holidays was a perfect storm and perfect storms don’t happen very often. 

Someone asked me if I thought I would have been better off staying with Mike because I was never this depressed before.  The answer is yes and no.  Yes, I might have been less outwardly depressed, but it was only because I was stuffing all those feelings down and covering them up with parties at my house, internal pressure, granite countertops and expensive shoes.  My pace today is still frenetic, but compared to the way I burned up hours in my past life, I am moving at a snail’s pace.  Slowing down, taking deep breaths and sifting through the reasons I ended up here has made me both strong and extremely vulnerable.  I’m where I am because this is exactly where I need to be.  There’s no shortcut, especially since I wasted years of my life (and my ex-husband’s) by trying to take shortcuts every chance I could. 

so . . .

John and Karen - thanks for opening your house to me, distracting me, feeding me too much chocolate and chicken and vodka.  John, all those runs have been life-saving. 

My running buddies who are now friends:  Sarah and Meg, all that giggling and hard work made me confident I could handle anything - even half marathon training in 100% humidity.

Sean, thanks for all the sushi and conversation, and being able to put some personal stuff aside to just be a friend to me.  The 2010 Porsche Driving Tour was definitely a highlight and brings me some peace whenever I feel most peaceless. 

Susan, as always, you came through in a million amazing ways.  Having you here with me and knowing you see right through me is priceless.  Being able to listen to you without fearing what you’re saying because I know you are right is a rare thing.  I don’t know what I did in a past life to deserve you but it must have been something akin to saving Christ from the crucifixion. 

Theresa, your tea and your house have been lifelines for me in so many ways, along with the way you’ve made me a part of your lovely and quirky extended family. 

Philip, I know things are hard for both of us right now.  You are confused, I am angry and so very sad, but we will get to a better place someday down the road.  I will always owe you a huge thank you for doing what needed to be done.  I know I helped you through a big part of your year; you helped me through a big part of mine.  I think we should both pat ourselves on the back for being mature and aware enough to realize the limitations we both have right now.  Just as you watched me make bad decisions earlier and suffered, I owe you the same courtesy. 

Stanley, the email you sent me a few days ago brought me to my knees.  I feel the same way about you.  I may be older, wiser, and much better looking (only one of those is true), but you truly inspire me.  You are an amazing friend and one of the kindest people I’ve ever known.  You are one of those irreplaceable gifts that came after going through hell.  You’re like the blingy medal at the end of the race.  You make it all worth it. 

Tricia, you are still my hero - even though you don’t get why you are.  Talking to you feels like home and I miss you tons. 

My family, especially my sister and my parents.  I know I put you through the wringer.  I wish things had been easier for all of us, but that’s not life and I’m okay with that.  I can’t imagine my life without you in it.  My sister gets me in a way very few people do.  I’m so glad I have one. 

Lily and Arden, you have no idea what you’ve done for me just by being my children.  I gave you life, but you have kept me alive as well.  At the lowest points, I remember that the basic fact - and most important - is that I am your mother and nothing else matters but you two.  I know my decisions have made your lives harder but I’m certain we are all growing stronger by the minute and we will survive this together, laughing and dancing to Lady Gaga.  I know you’ve sensed the wrongness that has surrounded me for a while.  Thank you for all the extra hugs and kisses, for nurturing me when I’ve most needed it, for being the amazing people you are.  You are the most amazing gifts and I will never, ever leave you. 

Truth 2: 

I absolutely will make it out of this.  I’ve got one hand on the edge of the crater and I can see some light peeking over the top of it.  Just a little bit farther to go.  It’s blind faith at this point, but so many people are rooting for me that I just keep digging my feet into the wall and pushing myself up a bit further.  If this many people think I can do this, they can’t all be wrong.  Right now I’m okay substituting their confidence for mine.  Mine is hiding somewhere in the sand, refusing to come out.  I’m hollering.  It will eventually obey and return to me. 

I owe my life, literally, to Philip, Theresa, Sean and John. 

No real way to thank them.  I guess the best thanks I can give is simply being here.