Deep in thought along the road

I've started walking each day...anywhere between 4 and 5 miles. I try to get at least one hour away from the house for the most part. Sometimes it's longer and sometimes it is a bit shorter.

So this week, I've taken the blue trail a couple of times. One day I did the short part. I know this one like the back of my hand. I've taken it numerous times with the kids in tow because let's face it, walking in the woods is just good fun. One day I decided to take the other side of the trail head that I'd never been on, but knew which road it would dump me on. After walking for about 30 minutes, I realized I probably was in a bit over my head and was glad that I had grabbed a large stick to walk with. We have had a lot of rain (something like 20" over normal) and so some of the areas I was walking through were a bit wet and mucky. Probably better suited for bikes or hiking boots than sneakers, but I kept going as the trail was well marked. Finally I got to a place where it was very, very wet and I could not tell where the trail went. I kinda had an idea of where I was and decided that I needed to get off the trail and onto a road. After climbing a rather large hill and finding that I was farther than expected (although I knew exactly where I was), I trespassed on private property. This usually would not be such a big deal, but it is hunting season in these parts and I passed not only a large hunting blind, but also a tree stand. I was happy to have on my bright yellow sweatshirt and bright white bandana on my head. Needless to say, I've stayed on the road or taken the shorter part of the trail that I know instead.

Anyway, because I have been walking alone, I've thought deeply about things. It is amazing what clarity you can get when you are alone on a dirt road or in the woods with no sounds, but birds and fat squirrels scuffling around trying to make haste in winter preparations. I have stopped using an iPod because I really feel like I need to be hyper-aware of my surroundings especially while alone. It is quite humbling to look at trees thicker around than your body and know that they have been on earth longer than you and will likely survive longer than you as well. I have felt rather small and inconsequential, really. Of course, I've also seen trees, especially around the ponds, grow together. My hubby tells me that these types of trees are less strong and dangerous to power lines, but there is something comforting in seeing 5 trees mesh their trunks into one, but go their own way. Perhaps, this is a reminder for me that family is where my roots are even when I want to do my own thing? Maybe a reminder that I can still stay grounded, but continue to grow. I am quite certain, even with all my rantings and ravings about how sucky life can be sometimes, that I am not destined to be the strong tree standing alone, but more of the smaller tree meshed with others.

In any case, my walks have really been a balm for my soul this week. I'm so thankful to live where I do and have the opportunity to enjoy my surroundings each and every day. Blessed is what I truly am....even when I go and forget that.

A change in my thinking....

So I've changed my thinking about something since hurting my back. Ok, ok, let me start at the beginning.....

I started to run about 3 years ago. I have never been fast, although early on, I did have more endurance than I do now. I roughly can do a 5K in about 39 minutes. I am totally ok with this. I have lowered the time on my one mile run, but for anything longer, I just haven't worked on the endurance of keeping a faster pace. The last mile of a 5K is usually the one that gets me.

Summer came and I hurt myself in the pool. I knew I pulled something, but with regular pool use, I didn't really have any pain. We head out on vacation which is 5 hours in the car and then lots of driving once we reach our destination. By the end of the week, my back is a mess. Then the coup d'etat, I really hurt myself the Sunday before Labor Day when I try to get the stuck collar off the pool filter and wind up in the ER hours before our annual party.

After almost 2 months of back pain, lots of meds and physical therapy, I am happy to report that I feel great. I feel some residual ache sometimes if I overdo with heavy lifting, but for the most part, I feel healed. And this is where it comes to me....

Running is guaranteed to lessen your flexibility. I didn't make this up. It's the truth. I have to thank my daughter and her friend, A., both dancers, for cluing me in. After some research on my own AND talking to my physical therapist, running *does* lessen one's flexibility. DAMN.

So, I'm not running anymore. Why? Well, here's the thing, the one thing that I've always, always had was flexibility. Obviously as I've aged, some of it has gone away, but the lack of flexibility that I had when my back was hurt was overwhelming and it scared me. After talking with my physical therapist at my last visit, I think that I will walk for the cardio I need to keep my BP in check and I will pursue yoga to keep myself strong and flexible for as long as possible. So I may not be losing a whole lot of weight, but I think this is the right approach for my 40+ year old body. I want to be here for my family for a long time...and I want to be able to carry myself for as long as possible while I'm here.

I'm sick.

Yes, truly. Head cold. Allow me to whine? Wait, I don't have to ask permission because this is my blog! HAH!

This is where the whining starts.....

So head colds are generally no big deal. You sneeze some, cough a bit, you blow your nose a lot and maybe your throat tickles a little. I have never complained about a cold (well...maybe I have, but I don't recall, so that means never).

Add in my super duper sciatic nerve being pinched in my left buttock because of the curse (with no relief from ANY of the stretches that usually help) and then a bunch of lower back and butt muscles that are NOT healed yet (WTF? When are they just going to heal? I'm done already!) and you get a body that will not tolerate sneezing or coughing without the back going into major seizures of pain unless I am lying on my side, knees pulled up to my chest with a large pillow or blanket to hug and even then it's a crap shoot on whether my back seizes up.

You know what? I'm just tired of being broken. Tired of pain. Tired of having one or two good days followed by 3 or 4 awful, no good, rotten days. I'm tired of everything taking me a zillion years to accomplish because I move like a ninety year old woman. I'm tired of the hubby and kids joking that I'm really "milking" this back business. I'm just tired. Hmmm, seems to be a theme in my life, doesn't it? Sigh. If it isn't one thing it's another. Now someone pass me a tissue.

Inevitable.

My mother is now being evaluated in a geriatric behavioral health setting. We took a nice 911 ambulance ride on her 78th birthday. My sister flew up over the weekend and stayed with us. She went to see my Mom during visiting hours on Saturday evening. Becca and I went and picked her up and spent a few minutes with my Mom. She was barely coherent.

For the past few weeks I have been very angry. I snap at the kids. I snap at the hubby. I just can't seem to be happy. Last night after hubby was nice to me even though I had been a total witch, I started crying. Oh I have felt it coming. I just keep pushing it back. Last night I couldn't push it away anymore. I sobbed when hubby put on Dirty Dancing for a few minutes and then later on probably sobbed for a good half hour. Hubby finally got out of me what the issue is.

I am tired. Tired of being an adult. Oh I know...no use crying over that. It isn't apt to change. I'm tired of the role reversal. I miss my Dad. He would take care of all of this so I wouldn't have to. See...I'm just tired. I just can't seem to wrap my head around this adult business where you have to care for your parent. I also found out that my brother is about as useful as one of my younger children really which adds to the amount of weight I feel in my shoulders. I love my brother...he is smart and a good man...he just can't speak up. I had to become the mouthpiece for my mother in the ER for over 12 hours when I just wanted someone else to share the load. The longer we sat around in a hallway, the more I spoke up. I guess I should have started earlier. Perhaps we would have been out of the hospital before 1am.

I feel like if I move in the wrong direction this house of cards is all going to fall down on me. For the first time in my life I am wondering if I might need some meds to help with my mental state. For anyone who knows anything about me, that has NEVER crossed my mind. I deal. I don't take drugs. But...BUT...I don't even find joy in my everyday life anymore and add to this my back issues and the fact that I am in pain more than half the time I am awake, you might be able to see why I am tired. Laundry is bothersome. Cleaning the house is a task that physically hurts me so badly that I just don't care. Dinner? Oh yeah, well, I barely get by these days. And today, well today I have to visit my mother in the behavioral hospital by myself. I am terrified. Literally. I have PT at 11:30 and then I have to drive myself there and go in by myself. I have put it off for 2 days now. I'm afraid of the unknown. I am honestly surprised that I have not had a panic attack. I don't want to visit my mother who doesn't seem to even know what the hell is going on while other confused elderly people walk around not knowing what is going on. I'm afraid I will do something wrong. I actually don't really know what scares me the most....I am just know I'm sick over it.

I know where my fear comes from I think. When I was about 5yo, my father took me into the nursing home that my grandfather was living in (his father). Some of the elderly people in the home yelled at my Dad for bringing in a little girl. One man in particular was a rather large man with no legs in a wheelchair in the hallway as we walked down to my grandfather's room. He told my Dad that I was too young to be there. I was so frightened of him. Once we got to my grandfather's room, he was a shell of the man I knew. He was in a large high chair and he didn't speak. He was even scary. Ever since then, I have been uncomfortable (at best) with elderly people especially in a nursing home/hospital setting. My Nana (mom's mom) was everything right and good in my childhood, yet, when her dementia landed her in a nursing home, I can count on one hand how many times I went in to visit and I NEVER went alone.

I wish I had the strength to change how I feel. I wish I felt kind and loving towards elderly people. I wish that they didn't scare me to death. Maybe, just maybe, I don't like seeing the inevitable staring at me in the face with its angry, cold eyes.