But What If?

My legs are so sore this morning.  My back aches, my feet and I aren't on speeding terms.  

 I did, however, meet Captain America...

So last night was a costume party, and I went as a USO girl...aka Capt. America groupie.

 

Because you all know how much I adore Capt. Steve Rogers😜

We had a wonderful time, and it was so much fun to dress up.  For years I was told not to, and why I listened I don't really know.

 Bethany, Jules, Rebecca, Edie, Sherissa & Jason

Being able to enjoy my inner geek (and now have another outfit on hand for ComicCon) meant I felt something I haven't in awhile: acceptance.

Exercise, plain and simple, has rejected me my entire life.  It's rejected many people, with the exception of the 20% who thrive on it.  Changing this is something I've been chewing on for a week...ever since I spent time with the masters who loved breaking things.  Could what naturally came to them ever naturally come to me?

I've experienced it a few times-the pull and desire to exercise.  I notice it's always been when there is a positive emotion associated with it...and for me most often when a challenge is offered up.  We are psychologically predisposed to associate things with pain or pleasure...I contend that the many early rejections I experienced concerning exercise, from the lack of coordination, the pain of breathlessness, to being chosen last in the school yard pickem's made an indelible mark of "pain" on my brain.  The few exercises I do enjoy-swimming, biking and hiking-are all things I did as a child or young adult that I endlessly participated in and enjoyed and thus associate with "pleasure."

These?  Well, even though I knew I'd hurt at some point, the joy of towering over everyone (except Jason) made it worth it.  I usually am rejected for my height.  Being in costume?  It was accepted...a rare thing, due to circumstances.

So how do I change my exercise circumstances to a place of acceptance?

As much as I adore swimming, biking and hiking, they are time gluts.  Currently, I am getting home at 7pm; I alone care for my children and get these two busy teenagers from here to there.  With the exception of the rare weekend free, I am unable to really indulge in these sports.  But what if?

I'm sore today.  I did exercise yesterday (just try tottering around in those heels and dance!) doing something I enjoyed.  Could exercise be introduced into the daily elements of living?  What if when I went upstairs I did ten quick reps of that bottom stair.  What if I did squats while doing dishes.  (Of course I hate cleaning, so maybe that's not a good idea--we want to combine exercise with actions we perceive as pleasant.). What if I turned watching Project Runway into an hour stretching session?  Hmm.  What if I did squats while brushing my teeth (good oral hygiene is very important to me!). What if I just did one thing for a week?

It took FOREVER to get ready!

To get to the final look, I watched YouTube videos on hair and makeup for the '40's.  Then I applied that new knowledge step by step...practicing some new techniques I'd never tried.  The thing is I had immediate results with that time invested...and with exercise you don't get immediate results.

I like immediate results.

Slow down.

I'm learning.  You can't rush a good thing (or if you do, you worry about losing said good thing, sigh.) I can change my perception of exercise....and I'm learning this slowly.  It needs to be something I associate with pleasure...and quite honestly, there's so much pain I associate with it.  Can one unlearn a forty year association?

 

Maybe.

 

It might be fun to try.

Looking for Opportunities

I should have wrote this last week.

 

Thursday, on the Chino Peavine.

Last week, I was working on embracing slowing down.  Imagine my utter surprise when I discovered not only more time to hike, but actually seeking opportunities to exercise.

 

This was my second hike; the first occurred during a meeting, when I asked my boss if we could walk and talk and just not talk.

In slowing down, I was readily able to ID opportunities to slow down, take an extra walk, and destress.  I found myself craving exercise-my exercise, hiking-for the first time in months.  

Dust on the Prada's.  Yes, I'm well aware the devil wears them. 

So while Thursday was an amazing day of discovery, finding that slowing down gave me opportunities, a weekend later I am discouraged.

I should be thrilled.

 

Afterall, the Buckeyes lost.

 

And I discovered a great new IPA.

But then Monday, when I was excited and wanting to write, after thinking about it all weekend, a blip occurred.

Instead of driving with a group to a seminar on managing a emotions under stress, I was left behind.  I ended up driving there by myself.

Suddenly, all the good of the weekend, all the wins, the  fresh memories I smiled at, were turned upside down.

 

The sunrise had reflected my joy-I was focused on all the good that had happened.

Not only did Thursday rock, but the weekend was amazing.  New friends were made, fun experiences were had, and relationships repaired.  While frustrated with a few things, I sought opportunities to slow down, not react, and be better.

Be better.

 

So I saw the board break without the eggs breaking...hmmm.  Could I someday do that?  I admit I was inspired, despite the fact I was watching masters.

So why, despite the inspiration, the fun, the joy, the betterment, did I regress?

Rejection.

It's my kill switch.

I let a perceived slight slowly overtake my thinking, until the entire morning became rejection riddled.  No longer did I want to write about opportunities to exercise.  No longer was I thinking about new goals or slowing down.  I had instantly reacted to rejection as I always had...

By being hurt. Disappointed.  Feeling alone.  Angry. Fearful.

And then I let it build,

Just like I always had.

 

Slow down.

I've chewed on this for awhile.  Slowing down is not my personality.  But it's bringing clarity.

While it might be awhile before I can handle rejection with aplomb, I can slow down when it happens.  Not project it onto other things.

I've been rejected by exercise all my life-it started with school yard pick'ems and extended to being terrible at sports due to the lack of eye/hand coordination.  

It's no wonder I love to hike/bike/swim, they don't require coordination.

So I've rejected it in return.  Associated it with pain instead of pleasure....as my entire life the gym and sport had rejected me.

Can I change that response?

 If I was Capt America's female counterpart I know I could!!!

They say recognizing the issue is the first step in solving it.  We shall see.

When what you knew really is true

The harsh reality of it is this:  I was hoodwinked.

 

Buttermilk.  100% comfort food.

Please note I don't reach for food, no ice cream to soothe this girl.  While whiskey sounds good in theory, the truth of the matter is I'm not a drinker.  Thick, creamy sour buttermilk however?  

Heaven.

 

Kinda like Prescott last Sunday.

So, I got some bad news today.  I was ripped off, and now there's police reports and stuff and a loss.

 

Not quite, but.

While calm for the first few hours (and even making a joke or two) I found myself reliving every bad decision I've made in the past two months, and wondering how anything could have been different.  So many hopes, blossoming new and resurrecting lost dreams....and all for what?

They were like thieves.  Charlatans dangling a precious jewel, only to snatch it away.

 

Fortunately, these did NOT slip from my grasp.  Little things, folks.  Little things!

It's morning, and I feel beat up.  I remember many of the dreams I had last night:  playing on a beach with a little boy, enjoying the sun and surf.  Finding my way through a maze of downtown tunnels, doors and staircases (the downtown being a mixture of Prescott and Adrian, interestingly enough.) Surprisingly, I did not experience the shakes I dreaded and thought would come....and I am challenged to rearrange my weekend plans.  While marketing and business is important, I need a hike.  A long hike.  A soothe the soul and reset hike.

Oh my word.

I'm craving exercise.

 

Not far from where I lived in Michigan, actually.

Excuse me.  I need to grab my minimus shoes.  This rec coordinator needs to do some field research today.

I'll see you on the trails.

The Magical Mystery Tour

Sometimes, the very best things happen on a whim.

Beautiful Prescott in the fall, Constellation Trails.

Every photo in this blog entry I took "sight unseen."  Meaning my battery power was so low I had to have the brightness very low-so I just pointed in the general direction of what I saw.

It was magic.

Phippen trailhead.

After writing yesterday's blog, talking to a friend and reflection and prayer, I have tremendous peace in my heart that what is best for me is to slow down...in every way.  While not worried or overwhelmed, I was letting frustration over things I could not control dominate my thinking.  As a Strong & Complicated woman, I wanted it fixed, now.

Solve problem NOW, not later.

That is me under bad stress.  I want instant results.  I do not want to think about it, I want it done.

Unfortunately, that doesn't always work when a) you work in government, b) you're starting a business and c) in general with any people in your life.  

That's one twisted mess....

Today, I got to drive the old police cruiser, an '07 Dodge Charger.

Let's just say it's my FAVORITE part of my job when that happens....

I had a luncheon with the Chamber and errands to run in Prescott; it also meant I had a 1/2 hour lunch break with lunch already eaten.

Thinking heavily about my recent decisions and conversations, and remembering the nightly shakes that had disturbed my sleep, I decided to hike the Constellation Trail on my return back to Chino after running errands in Prescott.  I knew I could take the North 40 and cut back on Ham & Cheese for an easy 20 minute hike.  That, and I had on boots.

Well, riding boots.

Because who says I couldn't look amazing while hiking, right?

Utterly enchanting Prescott.

Many years ago, I hiked Hadrian's Wall in Northumbria.  Steeped in Arthurian Legend and set away in rural pastures and hills, I had found a lingering hope that soothed my soul.

Today was such a day.

The first glimpse of rocks.

I had hiked this trail alone in January, in a wet snow that delighted every part of me. 

That day was one of the happiest of my life...I later built a snowman.

Today, the same joy that had filled me in January captured my soul once again--I was amongst my beloved rocks, in charge, and enjoying the views.

I actually "ran" this.  Experimenting, of course, and the obvious influence of the Scientist.

Crawling through rocks.  Pure bliss.

Remember, I was aiming the camera in the general direction of the area I wanted to shoot.  I had no clue if these would turn out.

My heart skips a beat just in memory of this...it was exactly what I needed.

Eighteen months ago, my neurologist reminded me that I needed to hike weekly to get rid of the build up of stress.  There truly has not been time....not since we bought Greenie, and then the added twist of adding a second location immediately.

Sweet Greenie.

So the decision in the past week to "slow down" has been one I honestly thought impossible--there's simply too much to do!

Or is there?

 

Let's just say I felt well protected from snakes.  I also wished my Preheel had already arrived...

So, I'm slowing down.  At work, at home, in all things...

And suddenly I found time to hike.

I had already gone to the chamber, so who cares if I got sweaty?!  Oh.  Tonight's date might, but hey!  Lol!  I'm not kissing him!!

Hiking is a balm to my weary heart.  While I haven't been worried (far from it, frustration is an entirely different form of evil) I have let frustration drive my decisions.  I make them fast and quick...and now is not the time for that.

The Constellation Trails is named for a Constellation aircraft that crashed there in 1959.  Only opened to the public in 2011, pieces of the doomed plane are still found there; I had last found a piece months ago.  Today I stopped to chat to a man about snakes on the trail, and glancing down (to look for snakes) as we chatted, I spotted a piece.

Please note the block M lanyard on my wrist.  Just because I want to point it out to a certain Buckeye.

It was a pretty big piece, and I was amazed to find it in this trail section-so close to the trailhead.  Looking it over, I was stunned to see something else:  it looked like a heart.

(Or the state of Ohio.  Proof the Buckeyes are going to fail on the football field this season.)

My prayer was for patience, to protect my heart both emotionally and physically.  The trail then hands me one.  Normally, I throw all aircraft wreckage into the collected pile; respecting those who perished. As I walked back towards the motley heap of twisted pieces, I stopped.

Clutching the ragged fragment to my breast, I headed to the trailhead.  The point of joy it represented I needed with me for a bit longer; I vow I will add it to the pile, someday.

Someday, when these days of chosen slowness have past, and my heart is secure once more.  Someday, when my body is healthy, and I have found the fitness I quest for.  

Until then, it is my talisman.

I stuck a magnet to it to make sure it was wreckage.  It was!

A coincidence I found it?  Never.  God knew exactly what I needed today, and amply provided.

I simply had to hike to find it.

Strong & Complicated

Kyle would add cries too much.

 

Unless there are flowers around.  Flowers always, always make me smile.

So I read this blog about loving strong & complicated women.

How to Love a Strong Complicated Woman

I had posted it one year ago on my Facebook timeline, an obvious plea for love from my then-estranged husband, the King of the Central Highlands.

 

Before the dark times....before the Empire.

Oops.  A little Obi-Wan there...

It's been a year now; I left on October 8th.  The divorce was final lighteningly fast on January 11th.

 

Qui-Gon is right.

How do you love a strong and complicated woman?

 

Like one who started a business in 2016, and it already has two locations, five months ahead of schedule?

 

One who returns to the place she was fired from to perform a program and leave on her terms....

 

One who tries and tries again to get fit, despite a genetic predisposition to survive famine and disease, all because she's on a quest and wants to see where it leads? 

(Side note:  the quester in question still misses her abs and is on her second week of no fast food. Salads only  for lunch (with no dressing) and yet has somehow gained weight.  Sigh.)

 

And one who is increasingly exhausted but takes immense comfort from these two lovable fuzz balls?

It's actually really simple:  you accept her.

For her quirks and her argumentative nature. For her utter passion for everything she loves.  

 

She wants this for Christmas, btw.

For the truth is, it's easy to love any woman when you accept them as they are.  

Yes, some may be more difficult to accept (fine, I admit it.  But if I scare you away it wasn't meant to be anywise.). But with that higher degree of  acceptance comes a higher degree of love in return.

And a higher level of hurt when rejected.

I have learned in this past year that the fear of hurt, and the lingering hurts from past loves, has built walls around many hearts.

 

Ah...you may have up a stone wall, but I do see a passable place of entry....

Being strong and complicated, I'll search and pry, looking for the chink in the armor.  

But I'm strong and complicated.

I am reminded of my Wingman's words, as he hugged me goodbye the other night:  "Once again in the arms of someone who won't commit," he softly said, kissing the top of my head.  "Be more patient, Kate."

We had just played three different games of cards with friends, and the laughter had been easy.  I had not minced words about the fact I was "done kissing boys" and was enjoying the peace it had brought me.  My Wingman had declared he was marrying our bartender, and was eliciting my help in getting her favor.  The Wizard was enjoying teaching me the different games, and while I died of dysentery playing Oregon Trail and died of an Exploding Kitten shortly thereafter i couldn't keep from smiling.  Wingman's words resonated with my boss's instructions the week before: slow down.

Yea, I'm strong and complicated.  We need partners beside us to thrive, it's just who we are.  Much of what we do is full throttle, balls to the wall.  We take action quickly, and perhaps that's not the most feminine trait. As an analyst who studies everything, I am noticing a trend in advice:

Slow down.  Be patient.  Dial it back.  Calm down.  Don't talk too much, listen more.

Interestingly, all things the King used to say to me.

Divorce is never a one way street.  While my marriage was complicated from its inception, for 17 years it worked well enough.  Quite honestly, it stopped working when I stopped trying, tired of doing without love or acceptance in return.

So here I am, still looking for that love and acceptance.

 

I think I already made that decision.  I said goodbye forever to one I once thought I loved, and am working on being content to relax.  Slow down.  

 

The kittens help.  Really.

We shall see.