What are the hardest things you’ve had to say in the past week?
Have you had to break up with someone?
Perhaps say goodbye to a dear friend?
“I love you”
There were two phrases I allowed to come past my lips since the last time we spoke, and both were difficult, both were a growing point in my life. What are these phrases?
1. “My name is Julie and I’ll be your counselor”
2. “I won’t finish. I need to drop”
Last Thursday I sat in a small office-like room with a few other classmates, occasionally getting up to pace the hallways. Most of us were waiting for our first client, others were preparing for a second or third. We were all still trying to figure out which code worked which computer and how many different pieces of documentation is needed for the first session? Should we take water in with us? Do we shake their hand? Do we assign them a chair? What if I pass out in the middle of the taping?
My client was 10 minutes late and I was devastated thinking they would be a no-show. When they did arrive I learned it was compliments of the construction on 76. (Gee thanks). I nervously greeted them and walked back into my room. We began by reviewing confidentiality and the fact we are being filmed. Luckily mine was a returning person so it made things a lot smoother. They talked and I listened and before I knew it the 50 minutes were up. When I first walked out of the room, I was convinced I did something wrong, but at least I made it. By the time I reached the little room with my fellow classmates I realized I wasn’t bad at all! In fact the client liked me so much they agreed to move sessions from every other week to weekly! What a grand compliment!
I really can’t share too much more. I worked on my paperwork tonight, and had a second client. This went even more smoothly and I feel each session is going to get better and better. Thursday I survived, but tonight I thrived. I finally believe I’ve made the right choice in how to spend the rest of my life.
Buckeye Half Marathon 2010.
DNF aka FML?
I’m honestly not sure where to start with this. I’d love to post all the fun I had at the fair…but that’s a later post once I learn more about my amazing new phone (also to be shared later).
Things started Sat night. I did not go to bed late. I did however go to bed at a different house than intended. Because I did not plan to stay at this other person’s house I did not have my asthma meds. I think nothing of this, thinking I will just use my inhaler in the morning. Well, I woke, went home and got ready for the run. I was feeling good. I watched what I ate (sorta) and drank plenty of water (yes!). Sure, Garmin wasn’t charged, but eh that happens and I still can’t find my IPOD shuffle but really does it matter? What I didn’t do was use my inhaler before picking up my race junk. Traffic and parking was a JOKE so I was late and had enough time to put a jacket around my waist and pin a number to my leg.
For the first 2 miles I could see the 2:20 pace bunny and was really happy. I mean my PR is 2:3o-ish so 2:20 being comfy and slow was great. I didn’t feel myself getting any slower and no one was passing me up, but before mile 3 I could no longer see the pace bunny. I ran across the street to a port-a-potty and did my thing. I looked down at IPOD for the time and it was 40+ minutes into the race and I didn’t see mile 3 yet! Huh? So I keep running and I see mile 3 and then 4 and I notice IPOD says I’m doing 8-9 minute miles. NICE. It isn’t too hot and I’m not tired or hungry. Then I start to feel weird. Really weird. I start to feel like I have sumo wrestlers sitting on my chest. I think nothing of this (mind you I never really believed I had asthma…who develops asthma at 26?) But my legs aren’t listening to my body and I’m not going where I want to go. They didn’t have a water stop where they needed it and by the time I reached mile 6 without any water they didn’t have cups. They offered to throw some on us or pour into our hands. I went with the hands option. Tasted like regular water to me so I knew I was hydrated. I tried to keep going, but didn’t have any run in me. It was so hard to even walk! I tried to stretch, nothing hurt though. I wasn’t wearing compression sleeves either. Finally as I neared mile 6.whatever and the end of the first loop I realized I was not going to clear this thing in any less than 3 hours. And what was I trying to prove? Who was I trying to prove it to? I was sick…I didn’t know WHY and I knew I can finish a 1/2 and I already had the hoodie (haha). So sadly, I walked into the field and up to a volunteer I know…Sheila and I tell her…I am dropping. At the time I didn’t even second guess myself.
I drove home…at one point feeling so sick I swerved off the road and into a ditch. Luckily my SUV pulled out, across the road, into the other lane and finally back in my lane. Thank GOD for reduced traffic on race day. I made it home and crashed out. I still wasn’t upset. A little while later I told my Mom what I did and I cried. Not because I regretted what I was doing, but because of how sick I felt. I do wish it could have been different. I wish I loved racing. I don’t love road racing anymore. I LOVE running and I LOVE trails, but I don’t love asphalt and cars anymore. I don’t love trying to beat a .15 second PR. I’m sorry, but I don’t! So I don’t think I will anymore.
I spend the rest of Sunday basically crying and wheezing…wishing I had used my inhaler. I guess you CAN develop asthma at 26. Grrr. I took my Sigulair as scheduled…and felt 100% better within the hour while watching True Blood. Today I am spewing mucus (sorry) and have been totally unpleasant to all in my path. (Sorry loves).
Word of advice. If you have allergies and asthma…don’t forget your meds…and don’t go to the FAIR while forgetting your meds. OY.