he said, "I'm going to have my wife make rice."
Well, he can suck it. I'm not even going to cut up the fruit and the cheese. I will, with my "own two hands" wash the fruit and take the cheese slices out of the package from Costco.
10. Sunday, I did hill repeats on the boulevard near my house, which involves traveling about 8 miles out north, and then decending into the valley over 5 miles, dropping 1000 feet in elevation. Then I climbed back out, descended, climbed again, and the went home. As I was coming back up, I felt a little sick, which tells me that I'm not trained enough yet. My stomach isn't ready for the intensity.
9. Wednesday as I lay in bed talking with Baboo I have come to a decision: St. George. is likely to be a - excuse my language - a cluster fuck. My longest ride since 2009 is about 52 miles. My longest run since March is about 12 miles. My longest swim since September 2009 is 1800 meters, with paddles. I am not willing to risk kidney failure to try to drag my untrained body around a challenging course just to be a symbol of something.
8. But, I do need a vacation. And I miss my friends, who I haven't seen much since the semester from hell began. So I'm going to St. George. I've decided to take all my stuff: bike, running shoes, wet-suit. I will decide after we drive the course if I'm doing it or not. I am giving myself permission to not do this. And trust me when I tell you, it's taken weeks of agonizing and discussions in therapy to work this out.
7. Just by having decided this, I feel a sense of relief. I feel happier and more relaxed.
6. In just 2 weeks, I'll have my life back again. I'll be able to come home in the evenings. I'll be able to garden after work. I won't spend my weekends perseverance on papers to write. For 3 full months it will be thus.
5. Every week at work seems to have a theme. Not too long ago, I had kids, one after another, with psychotic disorders. Then another week was "sexually maladaptive week". this week is angry pissy teenager week. There they sit, glaring at me, answering me with clipped, paranoid, hostile ideation. It's a scene.
4. I received a letter at work letting me know that I was now cleared to work with substance abusers and sex offenders.
uh, thanks for clearing that for me. I don't think so.
3. In therapy i've been working on why i became so overwhelmed. here's part of what's come out: Crisis is defined as what happens when your ability to cope is exhausted by too many stressors. In the past 6 months, I was laid off, then I couldn't get an interview for months. Then I rolled my ankle, and for 4 weeks, I couldn't run. For weeks after that, I couldn't run on trails. In December, the long crappy winter began. I started a new job, and only had time to work out on weekends; every weekend sleet and snow would pelt the area. In January, my car was broken into. In January, I also started full time graduate school. I was afraid of rolling my ankle. I was afraid to run downhill.
In early February, I had the first panic attack. Then our house was broken into. The panic attacks continued. In March, I did a second run I wasn't properly trained for, and suffered mightily. Also in march, it finally started warming up enough for cycling, but again, many weekends had very crappy weather.
2. So it turns out, according to my therapist, that they've seen a lot of people who are endurance runners who are injured, and about a month after the injury, when they're returning to training, the panic attacks begin. They think it might have something to do with the body not being used to the feeling of increased heart rate, respiration, et cetera.
1. But today, just today, i'm feeling good. even if that fu**ing bird won't shut up.