Around this time of year, I always pull some financial reports on my little tiny company to see how badly I’m doing.  I’m not bothering this year because I don’t need a report to tell me how much the economy has wreaked havoc on my websites, only one of which still exists in its original form.

But, I can do a YTD comparison from last year to this one personally.  So much has changed.

I am not sure I really wrote much about last December, but it was horrible.  It was officially the first Christmas/Holiday season without the kids and the husband and the house.  My rental was freezing cold and every night I’d walk around, turning out the lights, and the camel crickets in their half-frozen state would jump half-heartedly in my direction.  It was just so dark around here, no amount of candlelight or faux Christmas cheer could warm or brighten a room.  Forcing myself to put the tree up or lights outside took huge amounts of energy.  I wanted to hide, but when you have kids, you can’t.  I took one for the team, so to speak, and when the girls weren’t with me at night, I’d unplug everything and wrap up in a blanket to kill the perma-frost in this badly insulated house. 

A bunch of things fell apart in December of 2010.  And for the first time since I first hit the big wall of “I give up” in September of 2009, I hit a newer, bigger wall.  Only this time, I knew a hospital stay wouldn’t fix it. 

I gutted my way through two weeks of holiday hell and cheer.  I stayed with friends, buried myself in books, put on a happy face in front of the girls, and waited for whatever this particular brand of crap was to go away. 

There are no words to explain how bad those few weeks were.  I gave up, but held on because I had to.  I had a dog to feed, kids to love, bills to pay. I did not want to be here and I did not want to feel anything - good or bad - ever again.  Normally so in touch with my feelings, I shut down completely and went numb. If someone had asked me to do a self-portrait then, it would have been a painting of a bag of potatoes in a dark cellar.  I couldn’t move. 

It finally lifted, but not until January. 

On December 31st, I ran the Resolution Run.  I needed to prove some things to myself, namely that I still existed in a form strong enough to complete something/anything.  Someone I knew from the running community asked me if I was running it.  This was after I sent out a group text to everyone I knew (including him) going through divorce, wishing them the best.  I said yes.  We decided to meet up there, run the race and have drinks after.  It was New Year’s Eve, after all, and both of us were coming off a pretty crappy year.  Divorce, kids, financial pressures:  we had been through the wringer, in our separate hells. 

Turns out that my “date” for the race became my date for the year.  Running Boy made me laugh that night, and it felt so foreign that it hurt to do it. My ribs weren’t used to expanding and my lungs were still asleep. I found myself talking, the words easier to string together.  I remembered that I had a brain, and a heart, and that I too could make others laugh. 

We were slow in our movements.  Introducing kids took a while, as it should.  Our relationship was complex by its nature.  We both have kids, work, family stuff and commitments.  Because of the complexity, we did everything tentatively.  I didn’t introduce him to any of my friends except those in the running community who already knew him.  He didn’t talk about me much, either.  I know that on my end, I’d been burned so badly by others I had no desire to share anything about my personal life with anyone. 

Most notably, for the first time in any relationship, I had no desire to drag up all my crap and throw it in his face in the name of honesty.  Many experiences have made me who I am today, for better or worse, but I didn’t have the need for him to hear, understand, accept, and look at all of the bad things I’ve said or done.  Important details have emerged when they are needed, but neither of us spent much time dissecting the past.  He’d done a lot of his post-marital legwork and I’d analyzed myself to hell and back.  It was time for me to stop thinking about living life and start doing it. 

So we did. 

In one year, I did more traveling than I’d done in 10.  In January, we took a day and attempted to visit “numerous” wineries to the west of Richmond.  We made it to exactly one because someone (not me) had a few too many samples.  We ended up spending the afternoon with the winery owners, sitting in a beautiful log cabin overlooking the mountains. 

In February we did the Six in the Sticks Chili Run with many of our friends and celebrated a hellish trail run with bandages and coffee and chili. 

In March, we headed off first to Williamsburg for a lovely stay at a B&B, then to Virginia Beach for the Shamrock half marathon after running the Shamrock Shuffle earlier in the month.  Shamrock weekend was legendary, in many ways - friends, togetherness, a great race, beautiful weather, ocean, down time. 

April meant running the Monument Avenue 10K with more good friends, Easter and egg hunts with our kids together, and family dinners. 

We went Andrea and Joe’s wedding - a fabulous experience - combined with another B&B and long run through new territory in southern Virginia.  A fishing expedition at my friend Mary’s house with all 4 kids catching their first live fish.  Run Like a Girl in Charlotte, where Susan and Eddie met him for the first time.  My first Mud Run with him.  Memorial Day weekend with the Greens and part of his family at the Eastern Shore.  Trail runs with Theresa, Prissie, Gina and whoever else felt up to it.  Tubing with Trevor at Dan and Nicole’s - the two of us accepting ridicule for renting the “couples tube” (a figure 8-style inflatable so we could both ride together).  A weekend getaway mid-summer to Waynesboro.  Barbecue and Folk Music festivals in Galax and plenty of runs on the New River Trail, while learning to appreciate Southwest Virginia.  Another weekend trip to Wintergreen with more hiking and running.  Visits to the Children’s Museum with all 4 of the kids, managing not to lose any of them.  Date nights at Sushi-O, taking his daughter to get her first salon mani and pedi, reading to his son while trying to make train sounds without sounding like a psycho.  Hay rides and pumpkin patches.  A weekend in DC with good friends and the Army 10-miler.  Seeing Todd’s band play out for the first time in a long while.  Museums and art galleries (my choice), offset by his need to “mantique” (read: look at junk he doesn’t need).  Thanksgiving together. 

In a year, my life completely changed.  I got a job - one that I like, one that challenges me.  I met someone who complements me in many ways while still allowing me the freedom to stay me.  He’s strong and opinionated; he’s soft and kind; he’s 100% male but has an affectionate side that has warmed even the coldest of hearts in my life.  While it’s been difficult, and the kids have struggled to accept his position in my life, 12 months later we’re doing a whole lot better. 

I think back to the utter hopelessness I felt last year at this time, the dread of seeing my divorce finalized, the sheer emptiness I felt when I left my kids on Christmas Day to force myself on a 10 mile run just to kill the boredom and sadness.  I still have my hard times but they are different now.  The pieces have fallen together, and they don’t look the way I thought they would, but they still make a pretty picture and one I can live with.  I struggle still to be flexible with the direction of my life, but he has made that easier for me.  Even when he irritates the living hell out of me, we both end up laughing about it.  When I push back against the way my life looks, he reminds me of what we both have to gain by being understanding and flexible and it’s usually what I need to hear. 

You don’t need me to spell this allegory out for you, so I’ll just say:  My house is still so cold in winter, but I got an infrared heater.  The camel crickets aren’t around much anymore, and I joyfully put up my Christmas decor this year.  (Running Boy, staring at the excessive decorations: ‘Ummm, do you do this every year?’) I enjoyed shopping for gifts, I’ve been hugging my friends a lot, and even though I’m off from running for a month, I’m happy to be taking steps to be healthier and stronger. 

It’s been a really good year.