Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Trying to Keep the Finish Line in My Sights

My first half marathon. When I was young and in good shape.
There's a reason I've never run a full marathon. Actually probably 20+ reasons... Half marathons are challenging, but they still (somewhat) allow me to maintain my sanity and enjoy the run. I'm almost 100% certain that wouldn't be the case if I did a full 26.2 miles.

Over the last few weeks, I've been feeling like I'm running the final leg of a marathon. I can see the finish line, but my legs are buckling, everything hurts, and I can't hear the people cheering anymore.

I'm pretty much a hot mess.

Remember that post I wrote about all the overwhelm feeling like abundance? That lasted about 24 hours.

After that (and before, too) what it really felt like was complete overload from having a husband out of the country for 6+ months, two houses and yards to care for, cats that are serious a-holes a lot of the time, more travel than I can handle, and a workload that gives me heart palpitations. Oh, and let's not forget this new career path I'm trying to pursue. Yep, I'm the life coach who totally has her act together. Not.

I took my niece to Santa Ynez to celebrate her 13th birthday this past weekend, and everything was going pretty great (she was even patient when I insisted on pulling weeds for 45 minutes Sunday morning) until she alerted me to a bug on the dining room wall. It was a freaking cockroach. In a house that literally has no food stored outside the airtight refrigerator.

Beautiful ride. Even though it was about 92° and we witnessed a squirrel murder.
The roach nearly put me over the edge. One more thing to take care of on my own. One more weight on my overloaded shoulders.

In a state of desperation, I called my mom on the drive home and said, "I need help. I'm going to have a nervous breakdown."

It's not easy to ask for help when you pride yourself on being an independent person. It took a lot to make that call. And after it, I made another to my sister. And then I took my brother up on some additional assistance (he's going to spray the house for roaches).

It's sort of like people have joined me on the race course and have hoisted me up by the armpits to help me get through the last few miles.

It definitely helps. But it didn't stop me from bursting into tears when I found myself scrubbing cat pee off the bathroom floor. And then there were more tears when one of the feline a-holes pooped over the side of the litterbox and I had to clean the floor again five minutes after the first time.

Cats are jerks.
Mr. W comes home in about 6 weeks. I have to travel next weekend and the weekend after, and at least a couple more times in July. Some people think traveling equals vacation. It does not. But it's nice to know that the end is in sight. The finish line is near.

And hopefully there's an ambulance waiting for me just beyond it.

6 comments:

  1. Aw honey, a mess you may be--but take comfort in that you are still "hot." :) Damn, you are carrying the world around, aren't you? I'm so glad that you have family close that can love on you--don't stop asking for help! (isn't that some kind of life coach motto?)

    Find moments of quiet, even if it's just fifteen minutes to sip a glass of wine and list the things you are grateful for.

    Warm thoughts...

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  2. You know all that wine you keep posting about? Now might be a good time to start drinking it.

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  3. You've got A LOT on your plate. Travel is exhausting! I always need a vacation from some of my vacations. It won't always be like this but for now, go ahead and scream while driving on the freeway if you need to (it helps me). xo

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  4. If by ambulance, you mean drinking a tall glass of wine while your husband takes over domestic duties for a while, I'm quite certain it's there. Waiting. Ready for you to cross. (And, I completely echo your thoughts - travel is hard, especially when you've got two houses to worry about, multiple careers and a husband who is currently working in another country!)

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  5. You have a lot of plates spinning for sure. I always thought the best part of a race is the memory. That seems kind of silly considering all the time it takes and the miles you put in, but sometimes looking back is the only way for me to think of it as beautiful and not just slog and drudge, as they say. So I raise my glass to you and being able to look back ans see the pretty parts and watch the parts that made you hurt fade into the distance. :)

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  6. Hmmmm... wait, aren't you the one who's always telling me I'm too hard on myself? Back at ya, kid. :)

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Well, whatdya think?