What Happens When You Just Don't Pay Attention

Hey, guess what, everyone?

I STILL HAVE DIABETES!

And also - you have to pay attention.

Because when you don't pay attention, you go to take your medication one evening and realize the bottle is empty.

So then you go to get the new bottle from the cabinet and realize - wait.a.minute! - this bottle isn't my diabetes medication, it's another medication, one that the mail-order pharmacy has helpfully sent you automatically.

So then you begin to freak out a bit because you realize it's 11pm on a FRIDAY NIGHT and your doctor doesn't have Saturday office hours.

So then you begin to wonder - Should I just not medicate all weekend? Should I take one of my older meds that I'm no longer on, just for the weekend? Should I visit an urgent care clinic in the morning and get a temporary script?

So then you call the answering service of your doctor and feel like That Patient as you explain to the dude what is going on, and he gets a condescending tone with you as he explains that he'll actually CALL YOUR DOCTOR at EIGHT O'CLOCK ON A SATURDAY MORNING just so that you can get a damn refill.

All because I wasn't paying attention.

To my doctor and to doctors everywhere, I am sorry to be That Patient this weekend. I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention. This is not a good excuse, but I realized tonight that I'm still new at this. Maybe being without my medication is no big deal for two-and-a-half days, but it feels like a big deal, so maybe that makes it a big deal. Or at least a not-very-small deal.

And so, just when I've settled into a rhythm with this damn disease, and feel like I'm actually perking along just fine, I realize that - nope! Not that easy! If I'm going to manage this right, I'm going to have to pay attention.

Damn.

I did it! I did it!

What a roller coaster the last almost-week has been! Last Wednesday, I woke up with so much back pain, I could hardly move when I tried to get out of bed. Whether I tried to twist or roll or shimmy out of bed, it felt like someone had my lower back in a death grip and they were ripping my muscles to shreds.

Or something.

It was no coincidence to me that this developed a few days before last weekend. Last weekend was full of all sorts of happy events - such as the 5K for which I'd been training and our church's 25th Anniversary Celebration - but these were also events that were stressing. me. out. big. time.

Like I said, no coincidence at all.

I persevered through my long work day on Wednesday, in pain but managing. I have a good chair at work and found that if I limited my movements, my back "grabbed" less. I figured the pain would lessen, eventually. When it got even worse by Thursday morning, I began to get more concerned.

I called a local chiropractor and they made time to see me that day. While waiting to go to that appointment, I got the news that we'd had some vandalism at the church - just in time for our big celebration, some jerk had broken one of our windows. More stress. More back pain. By the time I got in to the chiropractor that afternoon, I could hardly move.

He examined me, putting me through some painful tasks to see what was going on. In conversation with him, I said, "So...I've been training for this 5K that's coming up on Saturday. What do you think I should do?"

He looked at me with great sympathy because he could tell I had high hopes. He also looked at me with a look of: "Really? You can't even walk around my office today, and you want to walk 3.1 miles in two days?"

He advised against the 5K. And, later, as I lay face down on one of their tables with ice packs on my back, I began to cry as the reality of it set in. I was so. very. disappointed. As disappointed as I was, I kept telling myself that it wasn't worth risking further injury. At least I could still go to support my team, I reasoned.

The pain lessened on Friday. I iced my back some more and tried to rest it as much as I could. (This is not easy for someone who's using to picking up whatever she wants or moving things around at will.) I went and picked up our shirts and numbers and was introduced to a whole new cultural experience with that. And I began to have some hope for the 5K...

Sure enough, I woke up on Saturday morning, ready to go. My adrenaline was pumping, and I was doubly pumped by the cool weather that had moved in overnight. By 7:30 on Saturday morning, we were heading out into 60-degree weather - HALLELUJAH! - and I was excited.

Team Go Rev Go!

We drove to Ranger Stadium and I began to collect the team. What a collection we were: hubby, some parishioners, a seminary friend, and a friend from middle school that I hadn't seen in over 20 years (and her hubby). She and I share the loss of our mothers to ovarian cancer.

The crowd was amazing. Teal - the color of ovarian cancer awareness - was everywhere. I went to put up my mom's and my friend's names on the memory wall, and ended up putting them near my friend's picture of her mom. As I turned around after clipping my own names to the wall, I saw her eyes had tears in them, and we held each other and cried.

My loved ones.

And then came the walk. I was aware of my back, aware of needing to be careful, aware of a bit of pain, but mainly, I felt energized. I cranked up my playlist and went for it. And 57 minutes and change later, I crossed the finish line, finishing my longest duration walk with my best pace per mile yet. More importantly, I did it. 

After I finished, I marveled at the line of people coming in behind me. I told one of my team members that I was so certain I was close to the end. She looked at me, incredulous, pointing to the stream of folks still coming across the finish. "Yes, I know," I said, "But in gym class, I got used to coming in last."

"You're not coming in last anymore," was her response. And she was right. Not that the event was about winning, because it really wasn't. But there was something important to realizing that I wasn't going to let the kid who always - ALWAYS - finished last in gym class follow me around anymore. Sorry, kid - you've slowed me down for too long.

So, now what?

I'm eyeing other 5Ks, I'm happy to say, and so are other members of my team. This might actually turn into a way that our church engages the community, and a way for us to encourage one another in some really healthy habits of exercising regularly. Who knows? 

What I do know is this: I DID IT!

Much Like a Sausage

Once upon a time, a friend got engaged and asked me to be a bridesmaid. I agreed and, dutifully, went shopping for yet another bridesmaid's dress. 

This was in 2003, and the trend then was for brides to pick one fabric and let their attendants choose the style of their own dress. How innovative, right? How trusting, too. 

Off I went to get measured at the bridal store, about six months before the wedding. For reasons surpassing understanding, the style I chose to wear was a halter top (OK) and a column skirt. Now, really. I thought it looked so cool, and it certainly was different than the A-line and quasi-poufy dresses I'd worn in the 1990's!

Problem 1: When I tried the sample on, it was in a dark color, which - let's face it - is just slimming. 

Problem 2: There were way too many life changes going on in between the measuring and the wedding. Weight gain was inevitable, and I didn't allow for it.

So, to the first problem we go...The actual color of the actual dress I got to wear for the blessed event was not a dark color. It was, in fact, the opposite of a dark color. It was, in fact, LAVENDER. 

Which makes the second problem all the more unfortunate. In between the month I got measured (January) and the month of the wedding (July), I...

• Began planning a wedding of my own.
• Moved across the country to begin seminary.
• Moved away from my new fiancé and my dog, leaving them across the country temporarily.
• But couldn't move into my own place right away, and so I traveled and stayed with family and friends.
• Had some of my belongings lost in said cross-country move.

It was quite the time for me: gut-wrenching, spirit-bending, mind-blowing. Yeah, I gained weight. And so, by the time my friends had their blessed wedding day, the bridesmaid attire made me look like...well, a big lavender sausage.

It was quite hideous.

I could walk, but not gracefully. I couldn't really sit down. Dancing was possible, but I'm fairly certain I looked like a lavender version of that dancing hot dog they show at drive-in movies.

Again, hideous.

So, the other night, I returned to my walking routine. I was in a huge hurry to get out there, trying to beat the onset of dusk, which is coming earlier and earlier now. I have a pretty set collection of things I wear when I walk, but a girl's gotta have some rules. So here are mine:

• Baggy bottoms? Tighter top.
• Tighter bottoms? Baggier top.

Simple, right? Foolproof, you might even think. Except for the evening when I'm in a big hurry and get dressed for my walk without really thinking. The result? A tighter bottom and a tighter top. Worn together. As in, simultaneously. 

I didn't even realize it until I was outside, and by then, there was no way in hell I was going back inside to change. COME ON. 

Problem is, I felt kinda sausagey again. I wasn't physically uncomfortable and the clothes aren't really THAT tight. But it was out of my comfort zone, for sure.

So, here's what I discovered as I walked dressed like a multi-colored bratwurst: GOOD POSTURE HELPS. So, what that means is that, first of all, every woman over the age of 90 has been right all my life. My grandmother. Your grandmother. "Stand up straight," they say, "it just looks better!"

What it also means is that I walked better, too. I began to find more confidence, rather than less. And by the time I reached the main road, my playlist had gotten to Madonna singing about how beautiful she feels when she Vogues. And...I felt a bit beautiful, too.

Keeping Up Appearances (Or Not)

One of the prettier things on a walk.

Alright, friends. Exercise is ugly business.

Yesterday, I was leaving our subdivision (via car), and there were these two 20-something young women speed-walking down the sidewalk. They were adorable. Bouncy ponytails, matching outfits, barely breaking a sweat - I bet their legs were even shaved.

So why is it that when I walk, I look like I feel like some sort of porpoise shoved into spandex? (Hey, it used to be a whale, so that's progress!) I bought some cute-colored exercise gear, down to the bright pink socks. I wear slimming black on the bottom. I have a kicky little headband for my hair. 

Tonight was really a winner (so far) for the category of Ugliest Walk. I left home at Prime Gnat Time. That's right - gnats - really thick along my walking route, getting up my nostrils, getting in my eyes, making me wave in front of my face like some sort of royal idiot who failed waving class. I'm really surprised no one driving by waved back to me. 

Also, it was (apparently) Prime Allergy Time. Snot everywhere. Grossness galore. Sorry, shirt! Sorry, everyone driving by watching me wipe my nose!

And I tried out my new armband phone-holder thingie for the first time tonight. I felt like it would make me feel and look really cool. Mainly, it made me very aware of just how much my upper arms sweat when I walk - the damn thing kept sliding down until I tightened it, and then wondered if I'd cut off circulation in my arm (I didn't). 

I came home and made the mistake of glancing in the mirror. OH THE HORROR. Red face. Hair a gnatty mess. Arms also gnatty. Mosquito bites in some unfortunate places. 

This is not an attractive activity.

In spite of all that, I am so very happy tonight - so very proud of myself for pushing through the gnats and inclines and red-facedness because I walked my furthest distance yet this evening. I scheduled it out, I thought ahead about how far I wanted to go and how long it would take, and then I did it. My walk tonight made me feel - more than ever before - as if achieving a 5K is within my grasp. And that is huge for me.

Sometimes, hard work ain't pretty. But still - worth it in the end!

What I've learned so far...

I like learning. Tonight, on my walk, I was reflecting on some of the things I've learned since I started training for the 5K about six weeks ago. Here's what I've learned about...

Approaching storm!

• Commitment - I made a commitment to walk/run in the National Ovarian Cancer Coalition's 5K in September. To go along with that, I've also committed to train for that. Committing to the training means that I commit to exercising on a regular basis - which can sometimes be damn inconvenient. But it's a commitment.
• Risk - Exercise involves risk. There's a risk of injury, or - in my case - risk of a severe drop in blood sugar. There's a risk of being kidnapped (I've watched too many crime dramas!). There's a risk of getting hit by a car. There's a risk of getting rained on (see photo), or stepping in a big pile of dog crap or on a wad of gum. 
• Awareness - And so, to mitigate the risks, I've had to be more aware. I watch my step for all the crazy bumps and dips in the sidewalks. I watch my surroundings carefully while I walk - if a car slows down near me, I don't take my eyes off of it until I see what it's doing. I walk against traffic so I can keep an eye on oncoming cars. It's all part of being smart and being aware.
• Sometimes I'll encounter gross things (and it's OK) - A few weeks ago, I walked past a very dead (that is, decaying) rodent of some kind on the sidewalk. It was pretty nasty - but - OK - just keep on going, sister, and don't dwell on it. I've had bugs fly into my face (and, I'm pretty sure, into my mouth) and divebomb my head. Also nasty - but - OK - just keep on going, sister, maybe after a good shriek.
• Sometimes I'll do gross things (and it's OK) - There's a tremendous amount of snot produced when one is walking. I don't really understand why that is, but it's true. And so because carrying kleenexes when exercising is a bit ridiculous, guess what? I use my shirt sleeve to wipe my nose. IT'S OK. It's going into the laundry anyway, as soon as I get home. 
• Learning new things - I've learned so much about our neighborhood just by walking around it. I've learned new ways to shortcut to our house, where the messy trees are that dump crap all over the sidewalk, and that our dog's vet is almost exactly 3/4 of a mile from our house. I've also learned that the middle part of my walk is the hardest for me, so I need good music there to keep me pushing on.
• The exercise is good for more than just my body - It's so good for my soul, too. Sometimes I pray quite specifically while I walk. Other times, I just soak in the beauty of whatever is around me - someone's garden or a passing stranger's smile or the glow of a sunset. Tonight, during almost my entire walk, there was this gentle rain falling - somewhere between drizzle and outright rainfall. It was so refreshing to my body, but my spirit reveled in it, too - a reminder of God's care for the earth, even during the summer months. 

I'm guessing that everyone learns different things about themselves when they begin a venture like this. I'd love to hear from you - what are some things you've learned when you've stepped out into something new?

Patches of Shade

Friends, it is officially hot here in North Texas.

This is only the beginning. We're at June 21st - the beginning of summer meteorologically - and this is only the beginning. Right now, we're hovering right around the 90° mark with a fair amount of humidity, but also nice afternoon breezes. Soon enough, we'll be 10° higher, with more humidity. Soon after that, we'll be 20° higher (a.k.a., "Hell") and the humidity will be...ugh. And the winds will go away. Far, far away.

Why this weather report? Well, here's what I've become in my newly-formed exercising self: an evening walker. I used to exercise in the morning. When I exercised before, I used to drag my butt out of bed, drag myself to the gym, get ready for work at the gym, and then go to work. I felt so damn proud of myself for making all that effort int he morning. Problem is, it didn't stick because I'm not really a morning person. (That's one reason. The other is that I don't really like gyms. I'm more of a coffee shop person in the morning. But I digress...)

So, in this latest charge, I've become an evening walker and I really, really enjoy it. There is something serene about ending my day with the relative serenity of walking and I feel even more proud of myself when I manage to walk off a really poopy day. Turns out exercise is good for body and soul - HUH.

I am blessed that many of my evenings easily allow me to include this exercise. My church folks aren't so much into evening meetings, so those and other evening events are few and far between, and other evening work is usually pretty flexible. (Hallelujah.)

This week, however, we've been hosting our annual Vacation Bible School from 6:30 to 8:45 each evening. It's been a struggle for me, honestly, to figure out meals, let alone exercise. And so while VBS has all been great fun, I have to say that I got to a point this week where I was missing my walks. So, yesterday, I was determined to get in a good walk before VBS. And I did.

Here's the deal: walking at 3pm is much different than 8pm. MUCH. You can be very glad they didn't find me on the side of the road (under the faded sign), lying in a huge pool of my own sweat, because I was truly almost there. (Lesson: hydrate better!) The route I selected - well, I thought it had more shade than it did. I was wrong. Oh well.

Today, undaunted, I struck out again around 3pm. SCREW YOU, SUNSHINE! It felt great - for the first five minutes - and then....UUUUUUGH. I started having visions of being prepared to walk through the desert for miles on end if I needed to... (as if....)

I had decided on more of a neighborhood route than yesterday, chosen on purpose because I knew that a neighborhood would provide more shade. And it eventually did. I found myself walking from patch to patch of shade, relishing the sun when it hit my face and the wind when it blew in my hair. You see, I've never really been much of a hot weather person (even living in Texas almost all my life) - hot weather is for sitting next to or in a pool, not for exercising in, for goodness' sake!

But if I am going to do this - if I'm really going to make this all work for me - I'm going to have to get out there in the daylight sometimes. Yes, we have a treadmill and I use that at times, too. But there is nothing quite like an outdoor walk - nothing like alternating my way along sunny sidewalks and shady patches.

Soon, VBS will be over with and I will reclaim my evening walking time. But I'm really glad I got out there and claimed some of the afternoon sunshine (and shade), too.

"If you see a faded sign by the side of the road..."

I will begin by making my Big Announcement for this week:

I GOT A NEW PHONE!

Like, finally. Like, it's about damn time. 

My old crap phone has been the subject of many discussions and much laughter among my friends, and the subject of some frustration and cussing on my part for the past six months or so. The thing really hardly functioned as a phone, let alone doing anything else these supposedly-smart things are supposed to do.

So, I finally had an upgrade available and so you better believe that I was all over it. With fervor, baby. Send me the iPhone and do it quickly. 

The happiness of owning a phone that actually functions is quite profound. I had forgotten what it was like to have things like Facebook and Twitter actually, you know, work on my phone. I had forgotten what it was like to punch a button on the screen and have the phone call actually, you know, end. Craziness, I tell you.

Imagine my joy at being able to load apps onto the phone that don't make it freeze up or make the battery fizzle out. Imagine my joy at thinking of ways to integrate this new little thing into my life, my routines, my ministry, and - now - even my workouts. SUCH GREAT REJOICING.

I ended up settling on an app that lets me program in different routes and then helps me follow them (remember - still learning my way around some of these places!). Using the computer, I quickly created six or seven different routes based on distances, and when I checked my phone - there they were! When I want to go for a walk/run, I hit "START," a voice confirms that I'm starting, my MOVE! playlist starts, and off I go!

I tried it for the first time tonight. I've had a long day. I mean - long. Fabulous and filled with stuff I loved, but long. How fantastic to be driving home, thinking, "Oh, good! I'll be home in time for a good walk around the neighborhood!" What a change from, "Oh, good! I'll be home in time for...[insert TV re-runs here]!" And because the phone still has that novelty thing going for it, I was excited to try out this new app along with my walk.

The playlist was also a new one for me: newly-set-up this week, not broken in yet at all. I had found lots of good, upbeat music for my playlist and it did, in fact, propel me. 

Until...ugh...I hit a point...

It's hot. It's humid. My leg is starting to tighten up. The mosquitoes are biting. Ugh.

I kept going. And at one point, when I thought I might just fall over, a new song started, a song that instantly made me smile because it took me so. far. back. Like - to LP's, my friends. Because, I did, indeed, at one point, have a long-play record of the B-52's singing "Love Shack."

The song is really quite hilarious. It makes sense and doesn't all at the same time. And there I was, walking along through suburbia, trying not to sing at the top of my lungs, smiling like some crazy person because I remember so many times of belting this song out at the top of my lungs in my room. At school dances. Later, at wedding receptions of friends. 

It lifted me. It seems silly, I realize, to say that about any song from the 1980's. But that song was followed by "Money for Nothing" by the Dire Straits, and I flashed even further back, to the genesis of MTV, the beginning of cable television. And those memories took me all the way home, to my back porch, where I stretched a bit before heading inside.

That's what I'm learning in all this, I guess. Motivation comes from one place, but also a thousand places. It comes from inside, but also a thousand outside places. It comes from my own spirit, pushing me forward, but also from great music, fun memories, supportive friends and family, a helpful phone, and a thousand other places. 

"If you see a faded sign by the side of the road," there I'll be, walking past it, trying not to sing "Love Shack" at the top of my lungs. And smiling like a crazy person.

Momentum

A body in motion tends to stay in motion; a body at rest tends to stay at rest...right?

I guess I'm getting more accustomed to motion. It's been several days since I've walked, and I was starting to get a bit panicked about that tonight. I felt like momentum was trying to slip away from me (or maybe it was walking away?) and so I was bound and determined NOT to let it get away!

We were out running some errands tonight and got dinner out, too. I was dismayed to lose the daylight hours, because I was really in the mood to walk the neighborhood, but didn't really want to after dark. Fortunately for my momentum, we have a treadmill! We came home, I asked Hubby to take care of feeding the dog, I changed my clothes and shoes, and went upstairs for 36 minutes and 1.53 miles plus stretching.

It felt great!

I came downstairs and needed to make a pronouncement. This is what Hubbies are for, right? Pronouncing things to? I set it up just right..."Honey, I need to tell you something and I need you to realize that it might not be a big thing for you, but for me, it is..."And he stopped and waited...

"I jogged for a full minute and a half," I announced.

That didn't garner any real joyful enthusiasm from him, but before he said anything, he looked at my face. He saw that I was serious. And then he offered his words of loving support.

You really have to love and support people where they're at. Tonight, I jogged a full minute and a half. The part I haven't said yet is that first, I wanted to stop after a minute, but I didn't. I kept going that extra thirty seconds. The second thing is that I really do think that's the longest I've ever run in my life at one time. MAYBE in middle school I ran for that long, but I doubt it. And tonight, I did it.

It felt great!

And so, momentum, you are my friend right now. You are helping me move and I am grateful.

Doing a new thing

Last week, I got myself back onto the treadmill and outside, walking again. No pun intended - but I started taking more steps in taking better care of myself both in terms of exercise but also mental health and even spiritual health (when I pray as I walk). It felt good to get moving in light of the emotional week I was having last week.

On the treadmill, I pushed myself more than usual. I let the machine raise and lower the incline and I really worked. At one point, on one of the flatter portions, I even ran. Not much or for very long, but I ran.

And that's the new thing.

Some people run. I don't get it - I really don't. They love it. They are devoted to it, the way I used to be devoted to eating a bowl of ice cream or some lovely sushi with tempura-fried shrimp on top. I have never understood running, and so I was surprised, last week, to find myself actually running.

I started thinking about my history with running and - OUCH! - wow, did that ever hit a painful nerve. I remembered what I felt like in gym class in middle school (yes, the memories run deep) - I was the overweight one, the slow one, the one for whom running was challenging, the one who didn't even know how to run. I envied kids for whom running came naturally. I plodded along - with not one encouraging voice around me (or so it seemed).

If you think these things don't make a big difference in someone's life - you're wrong.

In high school, I was in marching band, so I marched, I didn't run. Because I didn't have to run, I didn't. I had to run every so often in P.E. in college, but it was always combined with lots of walking and huffing and puffing and an overall presentation of misery - so I didn't run much.

I'm not sure what clicked in me exactly last week that got me punching up the speed on the treadmill, taking a short run. But I did it, and I didn't die, I didn't fall over, and I didn't even have to stop  altogether. I ran as long as I thought I could, and then a bit past that point, and then I went back to walking.

So, with all the emotion of last week of losing another person to ovarian cancer (my mom also died of it - and there have been others I've known), I started thinking about an idea I'd had years ago. I live in a pretty big metropolitan area, and I figured - there must be SOME kind of 5K or something for ovarian cancer awareness.

And I found this: the National Ovarian Cancer Coalition Run Walk 5K, which in our area, is held in September.

"September?" I thought. "Well, it's only June! I can be ready by September, surely...!"

I've never done anything like this before in my life. Ever. But - I'm going to do it!

I find that I am really, really excited to try this particular new thing. I'm also nervous. But I already have several folks cheering me on - including Hubby and some good friends. I already have people saying, "Yes - I want to do that with you!" And I've already started taking some steps to get ready. I'm not sure how much I'll run and how much I'll walk - but that doesn't really matter. What matters is doing it.

I will keep you posted!