I used to be a blogger . . .

Last night, I found myself wandering through some blog entries from 5 or so years ago.   (Usually this has the tendency to depress me, but I actually enjoyed myself this time.)  Back then, I blogged on MySpace, which let me post blog entries directly to my front page and control who saw each individual entry as opposed to either sharing everything with a group or sharing nothing.

 

For one thing - boy, did I share a LOT. Names, places, dates, times.  In the interest of my profession and far-reaching philanthropic goals, and just because I’ve changed a lot as a PERSON, I really don’t share the same kind of information I used to.  Just don’t have the need, desire, or even literal ability.

 

Which is part of the other thing that struck me – how interesting my posts were.  I mean, some of my stuff was really fun to read.  

 

I got to thinking, man, what happened?  I used to be a blogger.

 

My life has changed so much in the last 5 years.  I feel like that person and this person never even lived in the same body.  Some of it is depressing; even though I lived a comfortable and sheltered life, I never realized how lucky and comfortable it WAS.  And some of it is uplifting; I am now doing every single thing I never thought I could do but always WANTED to do.  And I finally kicked all my illnesses and medications.  I’m reaching goal after goal, PR after PR.  My work life is stable and enjoyable for the first time in probably 10 years.

 

But one of the biggest things I noticed was the absolute lack of romance in my life.  I don't mean just romance as in love and relationships; I mean romance in the overarching, emotional, philosophical sense.  I had a period of helpless romanticism during my late teens and early 20s, and everything in my life was both reported and filtered through that soft hazy glow.  There is really no romance in my current life . . . at all.  It is all TCOB (Taking Care O’ Bidniss.)

 

I'm not sure how I feel about this.  On one hand, I miss romance.  I miss adventure, excitement, and feeling as if something my heart desired was just waiting around every corner.  Conversely, I feel like my current life is more realistic.  Not everything and one I encounter is automatically a transcendental figure or experience.  I’m not in any danger of someone calling me EMO.

 

But I still feel like there’s something missing.  Something I can’t quite put my finger on. And it’s not something that necessarily comes from a relationship.

 

I don't do this often, but the best way to describe it is a lyric from a song I wrote years ago: "I've been on the edge most all of my life.  Waiting for a moment, hoping for anything at all.  Falling in and out of cognizance, fading in and out of competence.  Waiting for the tears to fall.  And leaving."

 

I am.

Another Odd Thing That Both Cancer and Training Have Taught Me

I’ve written about this before, but when I first got really sick, I wasn’t prepared for peoples’ reactions.  I expected, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.  How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?” But this was the exception, not the rule.  People around you don’t always understand (and aren’t always supportive of) someone chronically ill.  I can’t even count how many times people stopped talking to me, or when they did, would say things like “Just shake it off.  When *I* have a cold, I just take some medicine and keep partying like a rock star.” 

One of my observations, which still stands, was that you can’t really blame people for reacting like this.  It’s not anyone’s responsibility to be sympathetic or their job to make me feel better.  I’m sure they also don’t know what to say.  And, in the end, everyone has to make decisions about the people they keep close, and most of us make those decisions based on how people make us feel.  Being around a sick person probably doesn’t make you feel your best. 

Now that I’ve come through some of the difficulties of my illness and am more or less on the other side, I realize how valuable that observation was.  The people who did take the time and make the effort to be supportive, even though it WASN’T their job, even though they DIDN’T know what to say, are still my strongest allies.  And they’re also some of the most positive people around me.

I used to be sad when friendships changed or came to an end.  Now something that both training AND cancer have helped me realized is that cycles are vital in our lives.  If we had the same workout or the same treatments, all the time, no matter the condition of our bodies, we wouldn’t get results.  They both have to be tailored to the obstacles we are hoping to overcome and goals we’d like to achieve.  Well, the same goes with the people in our lives; some are around for many cycles and some are around just for specific moments.

I’m going through a few of the most outstanding months of my life.  I’m not going to lie to you and tell you there haven’t been rocky patches, because life is not without those, no matter how amazing it is (especially when you’re battling health problems and trying to work several jobs).  But, overall, I end each day feeling somewhat accomplished and focused and happy.   And positive.

I’m thankful for the people who have remained positive with me, but I’m also thankful for those who have come and gone.

2011 is going to be an amazing year. I can just feel it.

Birthday Thoughts, Upcoming Half Mary, ETC

So, today is (the anniversary of) my 25^th birthday. I woke up about 6am with a bad asthma attack.  My chest was full of gunk because I am coming down with my first cold since March.  Now, you might call me crazy, but I’m really grateful, because it just reminds me that I almost never get sick anymore.  It’s so odd to not be ill when I’ve been that way every 3-6 weeks for years!

 

Truthfully, my birthday is bittersweet anyway, because it signals the end of a month-long celebration my friends and I call the International Month of Fabulousness (IMOF). (Everyone knows that only Fabulous People were born during November!  DUH!) Now the Christmas and New Year’s seasons loom ahead of me, and this year (again) I may not have the chance to see my parents.  (Although this isn’t the end of things; I have a plan in the works.)

 

So my thought today was kind of like . . . I feel like crap on my birthday . . .  EVEN SO, it’s a great day.

 

I race on Saturday, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I feel better fast.  This year, I’ve scored PRs at every single distance – no reason to think this weekend’s half marathon won’t be the same, as long as I rest for the first few days this week.

 

Then this e-mail came from a coworker who sends out the best inspirational e-mails daily.  I thought it was fitting.

 

Monday, November 29, 2010

Even so

Some days it may seem that your actions are not very effective.

Even so, the best thing you can do is to keep doing all you can.

Sometimes it may feel that although you care deeply about the world,

the world does not care much about you.

Even so, it is much better that you continue to care.

 

There will be times when you give all you have,

and end up with nothing to show for it.

Keep giving though, for the rewards are surely there,

even if they are too profound for you to see just yet.

The disappointments may sometimes be so painful that you feel like giving up.

Remember though, it is your caring that makes the disappointment possible,

and that very same caring will pull you up and push you forward.

Though you may be reluctant to admit it,

you can make any situation into a

valuable, successful experience.

 

You can live with love,

joy and fulfillment even

when everything seems

to be pushing against you.

The circumstances of this moment

may not feel particularly desirable.

 

Even so, there is a beautiful

treasure that's yours to give,

and yours to live in this very place,

on this very day.

-- Ralph Marston

You can live with love, joy and fulfillment even

when everything seems to be pushing against you.