Still going...

My, where has the time gone. Before I knew it, it was November and Thanksgiving and then bam! zoom! pop! It's December 1st. What's that saying, rabbit rabbit rabbit, people say? Well, I don't feel very rabbit- like, more like a tortoise these days, I say.

Work has me buried during the days as the end of the year is pretty hectic for development & communications. I've had a few temper tantrums and borderline breakdowns, but thankfully the hives only showed up once. Throw a micromanager into the mix who's not even IN the same office as me, and well, I sort of have been feeling very stabby lately. That's really not the holiday spirit, is it now... I should be happy to still be employed. It doesn't mean I have to like work.

I'm working on it though. I've been pretty much working on me all fall. I tend to hibernate during the holidays even though it's supposed to be the social season. I just haven't been feeling very social lately and have had a ton on my mind. Family, finances and physical things keep me awake at night or force my mind to wander during the day.

I'm proud to say I've stuck to my training for the "bettering of myself campaign" and the half marathon in March. That alone is a pretty big time suckage. Running 3-4 times a week, a weights class, a yoga class, a boxing class (guess who owns hot pink boxing gloves?) and a long ass run on Saturdays doesn't leave me much time for boozin' or bitchin' or stitchin' it up with friends. I find that if I'm asked to hang out, I will if schedule permits, but I haven't really attempted to make plans with people. I feel bad and I don't.

I'm working on me and being selfish, I admit it. I'm also struggling a bit financially and well, this whole surgery/fibroid business has my stomach in knots, literally. Every day I can feel it. Sometimes more, sometimes less. It's both a scary and motivating factor. Just when I try to get in the best shape of my life, I have to think about a hospital stay and possible MONTH long recovery time of no heavy lifting or working out or gasp! Sex.

When I lie down, I feel like my body hates me. I can't relax anymore. I pulled a muscle in my chest (funky chest work!) and it started to give me heart palpitations -- the kind of flutter you get with anxiety usually. This does not bode well with someone who gets anxiety attacks as it is. Imagine feeling like you're having a tiny heart attack, oh, for about a week straight. I try to not push my body too hard, but at the same time, I want to say "screw you" to the tightness, the fibroid, the heavy feeling legs and impending headaches. Strength in the face of adversity, I say!

Sometimes I do push a bit too hard though. Recent lesson learned: don't try to do crow pose on a belly full of udon noodles. It won't feel good. But I'm learning. I'm trying to grow my upper body

strength as well as to not have that heavy feeling in my legs when I run. It's just something I can't grasp yet. I try not to get frustrated, but I'm sure I'm leaps and bounds ahead of where I was in July. Practice doesn't necessarily make perfect, and perfect is the enemy of good. I keep trying to remind myself of this.

I also have to remind myself that I ran a 5k on Thanksgiving and then proceeded to run almost 6 miles on my own through the streets of Oakland on Saturday. These things let me know that I am changing. And that I'm a pretty brave/bad ass muthafucker when I want to be.