Wednesdays with Nan.

Dear Diary,

About 6 years ago as I approached my 40th birthday my face suddenly started getting oilier.  So, I went to the Clinique counter andI laid out some serious cash for product.  Within 6 months, my face suddenly flipped to dry.  I waited, but it stayed dry.  Eventually, I gave out or tossed the "oily" product.  I slowly started amassing my dry skin supplies.
Recently, it suddenly flipped to oily again.  This is just bullshit.

So.  Anyway. 


I was in therapy with Nan and I was telling her about some feelings that I'm having trouble with, the feeling that I wish I had accomplishments that were just mine.

It's hard, to have friends who are so freaking fast.  In the past, I always queen of the trailer park.  It's easy to be queen of the losers.  But when all your friends are highly accomplished people--racing and otherwise--I'm sometimes bogged down in the thought that there's really nothing that I can do that they can't do, but plenty that they can do that I can't.  I know, and I tell myself, that I have plenty to be proud of.  But I don't feel it, I said.  That's the thing about feelings.  They are hard to control. 

Nan took two pieces of paper and drew a bell curve on each of them.

On one of them, she wrote lifetime accomplishments and on the other she wrote running.

She pointed to the one about accomplishments and said, "where do you think you fall on this curve?

Oh, hell.  She had me.  I pointed to the right end.

"And running? where do you feel you are on this curve?"

Well, that depends, I said.  Are we talking about distance, or speed?

"Either," she said.  "Of all people who run, where you think you are on this curve?"

Well, if we're talking speed...all people who run?

"Regardless of if they race.  All people who run."

Well, then I guess, statistically, wellll.......I'm somewhere near the mean, I said, pointing to the middle of the curve.  I have always figured, honestly, that the real reason I'm at the back of the pack is that most people as slow or slower than I am don't bother entering races. 

"And distance?"

Shit. She had me again.  I pointed to the far right side of the curve again.  As slow as I am, I have to acknowledge, few people have crossed the finish lines that I cross.

So later I was thinking I needed a visual reminder to keep me focused on these good things.  Some kind of visual reminder to see each day.  So I made one, and I put on my mirror where I do my makeup every day.   I shared it with a couple people, and I'll put it here, in case anyone else finds it useful:

...

2008: A year of changes (?)

2008 is gonna be a year of changes. I can FEEL it.

<--But lets first get the gratuitious boob shot out of the way. (I think there's one there. )

No need to thank me guys.

Well, 2008 is the year no meds. I've been on meds for treating anxiety and adult AD/HD for the past 6 or 7 years, and I've tapered off them (under my doc's directions, of course) and now I'm done. I feel good. I feel calm. A little disorganized, but calm.

Second, it's the year that I accept that I'm going to be a bit softer, and rounder than what one imagines an endurance athlete to be. I entered all this hoping I'd come out of it with a hard body but what I have instead is a stronger, fitter body, and that's fine. I'm happy with that, and will focus on getting stronger and fitter and loving myself.

Lastly, at some point during 2008 I'm going to make a dramatic change in my career. I chose teaching because it provided the best intersection of my talents, abilities, and interests along with the (at the time) role of a single mother. I was available for my children when I needed to be. However, as my youngest approaches his senior year of high school he (thankfully) no longer needs me as much as he did.

Oh, he thinks needs me for ride after practice but we built our home 2 miles from the high school for a reason. Plus it's hard to whine to your mom that you need a ride when you've done an Olympic distance triathlon, a half marathon, AND you're in cross country but especially when your mom's 10 mile run goes past your school. Go on and hoof it, triathlon boy.
But anyway.

I'm good at what I do, and take it very seriously. I have lots of skills in reality but not on paper. Here's some of them that I'm trying to fit into a resume:

• I can make about 30 kids gasp with horror (by writing something on the board, tonight's homework assignment or the quadratic equation)
  
• I can bend and twist any government regulaton or new rule and make it conform to what I'm already doing.
  
• I can scan a room of people and, in about 10 seconds to determine whose cheating, who's sleeping, whose texting on their cell phone, whose watching a video on their ipod, who's doodling instead of working and--HEY, WHERE ARE YOUR HANDS? NO, YOU CANNOT SHARE A SEAT. BECAUSE I SAID SO, THAT'S WHY.


• I can stand outside and watch kids get on the buses. And off the buses. And kiss each--HEY, LET'S MAKE A CLEAN BREAK, GUYS. THIS IS A FAMILY PLACE.
  I'm required to do this, twice a week.


• I can test the hell of kids (thanks, NCLB).


• I can use a computer fairly well, and I know the proper bribes for getting first on the list of the tech people when I need it fixed.
  
• I can write a lesson plan and then change it at the last moment because of an unnanounced picture make-up day, "off sight evaculation drill," or other contingency.
  
• I can, by creative use of language, make a parent enthusiastic about the idea that we should, "maybe think of other options besides college for Natalie."

Now, this spring I'll have about 10 years experience teaching and 2 master's degrees, one in Educational Psychology and one in Counseling.

Unfortunately counseling turns out to be a fairly useless degree, which nobody told me. Anybody can call themselves a "psychotherapist" without any training whatsoever in nearly every state, and few people know the difference between a "psychotherapist" and a "licensed professional mental health counselor."

What I do will need to cover incidentals such as running shoes, student loans, the ever-increasing cell phone bill, as well as allow me the time to get in all the training that has helped me become calm and thoughtful and happy. Because, without those, I'm no good to anyone, the people I try to help, my family, or myself.

More on this story as it develops.

...