Today marks the six-month anniversary of my surgery! Things are going well with my healing and my surgeon, just a couple of weeks back, for the first time in four and a half months, reversed his decision that additional surgery would be needed.
Thank goodness!
Not only am I a person that avoids going under the knife at all costs, but I also don’t fair well with down time. Had additional surgery been necessary, my surgeon assured me that it wouldn’t have been as involved as the first time round. When I queried if I’d still be able to run, he looked at me as if I was insane and told me a resounding, “no.” Hearing his words, after having worked so hard to resume running since my surgery made me wither inside—all that work for not.
For as long as I can remember, running has been my sense of finding inner peace. Without the ability to exact that, I feel…off, like I’m not quite…balanced or something. Aside from the physical health benefits, running makes me feel whole. Like I’m in charge of my own body. There were countless years when I was unable to run much less walk due to serious injuries. During those trying times, I felt myself wither inside much the same as happened when my surgeon told me I would likely need more surgery.
But I held firm to the faith that my body, if allowed time, would heal on its own, providing me the privilege of being able to continue with my running, training and feeling large and in charge of my physical being, which allows me to smooth down the ruffled feathers of my soul that a busy and demanding life can cause.
Being a person who is driven by meeting goals, I had set a personal one that I’d kept to myself until now. With it, I promised myself that I’d be back to my pre-surgery self, as strong as ever, by seven months after my surgery. Getting the recent good news from my surgeon, being cleared to finally travel again, and hitting my six-month anniversary, feeling as strong as I did prior to my surgery, makes me thrilled, for I feel that not only have I met my goal, working darn hard to get here, but I did so with a month to spare, which is pretty darn cool!
Sunday, April 11, 2011
My friends and I had an intriguing conversation last Friday. It was about being late. Some of us believe that with being late, there are no exceptions. But other friends shared that if the other person is also running late, and then the two folks being late sort of cancel one another out.
On the one hand, I can see their reasoning. After all, if both parties are running behind schedule, then no one would get inconvenienced, so how could it be considered rude to have run late? But on the other hand, late is late. The person themselves knows and whether they’re willing to admit it or not, they were late.
I tumbled this idea around in my head and an interesting comparison came to mind about the saying that asks if a tree falls in the middle of the forest and no one is there to hear it, did it make a sound. In my humble opinion, yes, it still made a sound. Whether or not individuals were privy to it, well…that’s irrelevant.
Some things we just have to have faith and trust in. Following one’s inner voice, the one that cautions and scolds them, is kind of like that tree falling in the middle of the forest. Why? Because regardless of if others know you were late, you’ll know.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Usually, I’m a person who likes to have things planned out. Now, that doesn’t mean I won’t forego things on my to-do list should other opportunities present themselves, cause I do and have. Being a highly goal-oriented person, however, I need some sort of direction so I’ll know where I’m headed. This works best for me…most times….
But then there are occasions when I throw carful planning and thought out the window and dive in, with the greatest anticipation, to the unknown, unexpected and unplanned. That’s how my day and night unfurled yesterday. I’ve gotta say, that by the end, I was not only exhausted, but pleasantly surprised by discoveries I had along the way, connections I made and how darned good it felt to just go with the flow instead of following any preconceived outline.
Though my experience was a positive one yesterday, I don’t believe that maintaining that kind of outlook would serve me well over the long haul. Yes, it was great to switch things up for a day/night, for I believe that we all need to break out of our normal patterns from time-to-time. But honestly, for me, having at least some sort of agenda to follow is what works best.
But then there are occasions when I throw carful planning and thought out the window and dive in, with the greatest anticipation, to the unknown, unexpected and unplanned. That’s how my day and night unfurled yesterday. I’ve gotta say, that by the end, I was not only exhausted, but pleasantly surprised by discoveries I had along the way, connections I made and how darned good it felt to just go with the flow instead of following any preconceived outline.
Though my experience was a positive one yesterday, I don’t believe that maintaining that kind of outlook would serve me well over the long haul. Yes, it was great to switch things up for a day/night, for I believe that we all need to break out of our normal patterns from time-to-time. But honestly, for me, having at least some sort of agenda to follow is what works best.
Friday, April 8, 2011
"To me, it suffices to wonder at these secrets and to attempt humbly to grasp with my mind a mere image of the lofty structure of all that there is."
—Albert Einstein
Upon a friend’s recommendation, I’ve begun reading the book Please Understand Me II, a study of human temperament, character and intelligence, written by David Keirsey. The section on rationals begins with this quote, which is how Albert Einstein ended an essay he wrote, summing up his philosophy on life while expressing his insatiable passion for science.
I love reading books or discussing with individuals subjects that make us ponder things on a deep level. About the only thing better is to learn more about the complexities of the human mind and why folks are driven to do, say, and act upon those things that they do.
Earlier today, I went out to grab a bite to eat with our youngest son. On the way there, during and on our return, we delved into the subject of perception. It began with his asking me what it feels like to be my age. Of course, he was quick to point out that he didn’t think I was old or anything, but that at his age of fifteen, he felt as though he’d lived forever. That makes him wonder what it would be like to be my age.
In answer to his question, I drew from our conversation yesterday about the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster as well as the collapse of the Twin Towers. I pointed out how, although he was alive during the falling of the Twin Towers, he was young enough to have not fully grasped that event. But that when he viewed the video of it on his smart phone yesterday, he gained far more profound meaning from the event that has since shaped the lives of how Americans view their safety.
I went on to say that being my age was a lot like this. Like my son, there have been historical events that, although I was alive at the time they occurred, it wasn’t until years and years later that I was able to fully comprehend their significance—too young or inexperienced at the time they occurred. I shared how being my age was cool, for I like to think that I’ve gained some insight along my life’s journey. And in the words of Albert Einstein, I “wonder at these secrets and attempt to humbly grasp with my mind a mere image of the lofty structure of all that there is.”
—Albert Einstein
Upon a friend’s recommendation, I’ve begun reading the book Please Understand Me II, a study of human temperament, character and intelligence, written by David Keirsey. The section on rationals begins with this quote, which is how Albert Einstein ended an essay he wrote, summing up his philosophy on life while expressing his insatiable passion for science.
I love reading books or discussing with individuals subjects that make us ponder things on a deep level. About the only thing better is to learn more about the complexities of the human mind and why folks are driven to do, say, and act upon those things that they do.
Earlier today, I went out to grab a bite to eat with our youngest son. On the way there, during and on our return, we delved into the subject of perception. It began with his asking me what it feels like to be my age. Of course, he was quick to point out that he didn’t think I was old or anything, but that at his age of fifteen, he felt as though he’d lived forever. That makes him wonder what it would be like to be my age.
In answer to his question, I drew from our conversation yesterday about the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster as well as the collapse of the Twin Towers. I pointed out how, although he was alive during the falling of the Twin Towers, he was young enough to have not fully grasped that event. But that when he viewed the video of it on his smart phone yesterday, he gained far more profound meaning from the event that has since shaped the lives of how Americans view their safety.
I went on to say that being my age was a lot like this. Like my son, there have been historical events that, although I was alive at the time they occurred, it wasn’t until years and years later that I was able to fully comprehend their significance—too young or inexperienced at the time they occurred. I shared how being my age was cool, for I like to think that I’ve gained some insight along my life’s journey. And in the words of Albert Einstein, I “wonder at these secrets and attempt to humbly grasp with my mind a mere image of the lofty structure of all that there is.”
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