Working It Out
Sometimes you just have to work things out. Ask any cyclist, runner, or triathlete and I bet they'll tell you that training sessions often become the source of clarity and order to the other things in their life. Training does this for me. But today, 18 of my speediest training bike miles could not work it out. I knew it at the time but had to stop due to boy-pick-up constraints.
Tomorrow morning, Brendan will say goodbye to his tonsils and adenoid. Apparently, we didn't notice that he couldn't breathe through his nose for 7 years. "I can't believe no one has treated him for this," were the exact words of the ENT doctor. Um, yeah, well, we were kinda busy with cancer for the past 3 years. . . is what I wanted to say.
My emotions about hospitals, operating rooms (and how scared I was during my lymph node removal for biopsy) are all wrapped up my emotions as a mom and how I just don't want anyone having to come near my child with a scalpel. I actually can identify and almost laugh at the realization that my subconscious is trying to find an outlet for my fear. I recognize it for what it is.
Training serves a means to a race finish line but, it also has become a link to my own ability to give my self a psychological look-see. In fact, it took me a long time training to realize that I thought I was swimming, biking, and running toward a goal rather than from my fear - fear of cancer, fear of its return, fear of what had become of my body. . . These days, I know that the miles I put in the pool, on the bike or pounding the pavement are also the times I feel most able to look at where I am and where I am going.
I was hoping for a brisk-paced run this evening to continue to work on my emotions about seeing my child in a hospital gown but severe thunder and lightning along with flash-flood rain has kept me indoors. So, apparently, when I couldn't work it out in training, I turned to the bathroom - cleaning it, that is. My previously soap-scummed shower doors now shine. I think cleaning the refrigerator is next.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a young seven-year old to tuck back in to bed, who "can't sleep" for a variety of reasons. . .I'll have patience for it tonight, I know that he, like me, is really just trying to work it out. . .
Swim. Bike. Run. Clean Something. Repeat.
-Jen
Comments
Sending good vibes to all the adenoids out there... I **wish** I could channel my avoidances to cleaning! (I could teach Oscar Madison a thing or two...)
Posted by: Siouxgeonz | Jul 24, 2008 12:25:36 PM
Thanks for all the good wishes everyone. The surgery went smoothly although coming out of the anesthesia was a little rough for him. He was NOT happy with the IV in his hand that he discovered when he woke up. I have now become his dealer in popsicles. . . -Jen
Posted by: Jen | Jul 25, 2008 6:02:14 AM
Oh - and as to the cleaning part - it was a little odd, even for me. I'm not really the super-scrub kinda girl. Working it out on the bike or a run (and therefore not seeing the lack of clean at home) is much more my style. :)
-Jen
Posted by: Jen | Jul 25, 2008 6:03:44 AM
Hi Becca,
Glad that you have been bitten by the tri bug. Let me know what I can do to help you make your dream a reality!
-Jen
Posted by: Jen | Jul 25, 2008 6:09:54 AM
Hi, I have been keeping up on your blogs from the start... you've kept me intrigued and just recently I caught up on reading and to find out your doing a Tri ----your my hero! This was after I decided to do one next spring. I've given myself a yr to train.
We share the same perspectives and life experiences... I just thought my cleanliness was OCD'ness :) Thanks for giving me inspiration...
Good luck to you and your family and especially your son.
Posted by: Becca | Jul 23, 2008 7:17:53 PM