TRU

I know, I know, two posts in one day....

With the Oscars approaching, alas, I had to suck it up and see Capote. Phillip Seymour Hoffman deserves the Oscar for Best Actor. Straight up. Sorry Heath, your movie's one for the history books but it's Phillip's year, not yours (We can always hope for Jake to win Best Supporting Actor).

Dear God, I'm going to have nightmares of the execution for weeks.

I was very interested to learn of Capote's friendship with the author Harper Lee. To Kill a Mockingbird is one of my all time favourite books (perahps time to read it again?) but I never knew the following which is excerpted from a Capote biography on the internet:

"In his childhood Capote made friends with Harper Lee, who portrayed him as Dill in her world famous novel To Kill a Mockingbird. "Dill was a curiosity. He wore blue linen shorts that buttoned to his shirt, his hair was snow white and stuck to his head like duckfluff; he was a year my senior but I towered over him. As he told us the old tale his blue eyes would lighten and darken; his laugh was sudden and happy; he habitually pulled at a cowlick in the center of his forehead."

I had intented to do a double-bill this afternoon, and see Walk The Line after Capote, but I was just too emotionally wrought. So, I decided on a good steak, aged cheese and a nice bottle of red wine instead.

Happy is as happy does....

I FEEL GREAT!

Ya just gotta love Saturday mornings after a great workout, sitting in front of the computer with a steaming hot cup of coffee… pondering life… the whole day ahead, chock full of promise and opportunity.

Though it was snowy and blowy this morning in Toronto, I managed to kick it into gear and got my considerable ass out the door to the Y for my planned swim. And just like I’ve been doing it forever, I did 500m (breast stroke, mind you) without stopping. Then, feeling smug as hell, I thought I’d try to finish off with 100m of free style (yeah the one where I swallow water and worry about drowning) and discovered that I was too fast for the slow lane (go figure…) and kept bumping into the people ahead of me…. So after turning around a couple of times mid length, I called it a day after approx. 75m. The encouraging news is that I could have done more.

This is all the more encouraging because, thanks to Buckeye, I’m exploring the idea of a sprint Try-a-Tri where the swim is only 375m. Sounds doable? Anyway, that’s way down the road, if ever.

On the walk home, I was thinking a couple of things: 1) now that I don’t need time at lunch to smoke my face off, I could swim or do yoga; and 2) I don’t have to run a full marathon to feel good about myself – just working out at all has the power to make me feel good and is way better than nothing at all.

Other workouts:

Thursday swim – 500m
Friday walking on treadmill – 2.5 miles

Tomorrow – treadmill, 3 mile walk.

What is progress?

I decided that I had to change the name of this blog from GGVII Marathon or 1/2 Marathon, as it has been decided that I will be attempting neither - or at least my body decided. Having so decided, I can't help but to admit that I feel like a bit of a fraud amidst the 'real athletes' - now that my status as a 'wannabe' is confirmed.

However, as I believe there are no accidents in this universe, I know that there is a reason that I started this blog, and as well, for the connections that I have made with some of you serious runners and triathaletes with whom I have shared something of myself these past weeks.

My hope is that some of you will stick around as this blog evolves, and as my training (such as it is), continues. The goal remains: SOMEDAY, I WILL cross running a marathon off of the list of things to do before I die! In the meantime, please know that I draw inspiration from you and I will run with you vicariously in the wind.

Anyway.... this can only be a quick post tonight. I'm exhausted having battled with my shrink for an hour after an otherwise brutal day at work over the question asked in the title of this post: What is progress? He is my biggest believer and would have none of my whining that it sucks to be me.

Of course, during precious moments of clarity, I can easily recognize and validate all that I have accomplished and consider it all progress. Quite aside from mere progress, it is a bloody miracle that I am still not smoking after 107 days. On the other hand... well, we won't go there.

Inarticulate as I am tonight, I am trying to make a point (and not getting anywhere close) about believing in oneself; especially in the face of the impossible, and the awesome power of throwing that belief behind others by way of our support.

I'm planning 500m tomorrow in the pool; hopefully I will manage 100m of freestyle without stopping. I tried deep water aquafit yesterday morning but it wasn't nearly challenging enough (even for me)...

MEMO TO SELF: You cannot do better than your best.

Weekend workouts and thoughts...

Saturday - I swam 500m in 100m intervals. As I haven't swam for many years, I had forgotten how good my body feels after swimming - the sense that you have really worked your WHOLE body. I think that my ability to increase the distance will come quickly as I learn to relax in the pool. Even though I know how to swim and I'm not afraid of swimming in a pool (lakes and oceans are another matter altogether) I have a sense that I might sub-consciously panic a bit when my breathing is elevated which causes me to think that I have to stop and catch my breath?? Unfortunately, the adult lessons at my Y are later in the evening which really don't work for me. I might look into private lessons to give me a shove in the right direction.

Sunday - I was going to swim again this morning but woke up with a dreadful red wine hangover from a work function last night. (Partners treated us to a fab dinner at Xacutti where I had a dill salmon that was to die for. www.xacutti.com)

So, this afternoon, I settled on a 2.5 mile walk on the treadmill at 4.0 mph pace. Although it is a lot better than doing nothing, it didn't feel like much of a workout and the whole time I had to fight against the desire to increase the speed and jog. But I know that my pulled whatever... (I still don't know exactly whether it's my back, groin, ham??.. it just all kind of hurts) would flare up and set me back yet again. So I just kept reminding myself about the new plan of slow and steady.

Besides, it is just over two months to my vacation in Hilton Head - God willing that my body cooperates.

Wishing everyone in cyberblog land a productive, healthy, and joy filled week!

A favourite quotation...

Alice laughed. `There's no use trying,' she said `one ca'n't believe impossible things.'

`I daresay you haven't had much practice,' said the Queen. `When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.
Lewis Carroll, Through The Looking Glass

A few years ago, I found this quotation printed on a fridge magnet in a card store while looking for a birthday card for one of my sisters who, at the time, was in the fight of her life with depression. I bought it for her because it reminded me of a time earlier in my life when I was under the very mistaken impression that I really didn't care much whether I lived or died (I did and I very much do). As I didn't have much going for me at the time, I figured that I had nothing to lose by dreaming of impossible things.

Today, she and her husband own a successful store called Main Street Health in Picton, Ontario (www.mainstreethealth.com (site under construction)). The fridge magnet is still on her fridge. We don't talk about it but I know that she knows that I know it's still there, if you know what I mean...

As for me - dreaming impossible things has inspired me to persevere and to continue scaling the emotional cliffs of life. Since posing the question why? the other day, I have concluded that for me, my desire to run a marathon is all about dreaming impossible things. It has little to do with whether or not I actually do it - desiring it, pursuing it, training for it (even to the extent my battered old body will allow) will take me to heights that I have only ever dreamt of.

I am writing this to remind myself (yet again) that my glass is more than half full - on a day during which I let everyone and everything (including the freakin weather) get me down.

Alas, my impossible dream of running the marathon at the Gay Games this summer in Chicago is not to be. I have very much decided to spend the rest of this year focusing on fitness/weight loss in general and running short distances while doing inner core strengthening.

However, you would be wrong to understand this to be about giving up. In reality, it is very much about dreaming impossible things. It's just going to take a little longer.

In the meantime, I've booked a tennis/spa vacation in Hilton Head, SC this May. Who knows, maybe I'll find my old game (I was once a diehard court rat) and kick some serious ass this summer on the weekend warrior tennis tour!

Game, Set, Match.

DAY 100

Things are rarely as bad as we imagine them to be...

Went swimming at the Y this morning. Managed 6x50 metres. Hate the front crawl! Drank about a gallon of chlorine.

I probably could have swam more lengths but I had the good sense not to push it. I will no doubt be stiff as a board tomorrow. I was the third person in the pool at 7:05 a.m. In twenty minutes there were about twenty more, including several very smart and toned looking individuals who appeared to be taking part in a Masters' Class. I wondered if they were triathaletes? For a few seconds, I considered whether I might someday do a triathalon? I was relieved that nothing hurt.

I CAN DO THIS.

Having battled weight and body image issues my whole life, taking even this baby step is a gigantic step forward for me. So much so, I can't even figure out how to write about it in any kind of succinct or cogent manner... suffice to say that to swim (in a public pool) is about as difficult as it gets for me.

REALITY... if I want to hold out any hope of being able to run my marathon, I'd better make friends with the Loch Ness monster that lurks in the swimming pool of my mind.

In other developments... I walked on my treadmill yesterday and on Thursday (both days I had planned to go to the pool but wussed out). Yesterday, I did 2 miles with my shins screaming for the entire duration. I tried to run briefly but it was a no go. My next physio appointment is tomorrow morning.

On my way home from the Y, I pondered why I have this need or desire to run a marathon? On the surface it's an easy question to answer.. but when I plumb the depths it becomes a little murkier. I fear that it has to do with a lack of acceptance of the realities of aging? Does this resonate? Anybody have any answers they'd like to share?

DREAMS DIE HARD? or DREAMS NEVER DIE?

Hi all - Is it weird to have the feeling that I missed everyone?

Anyway, I'm back from my weekend in the country where I shared some good quality time with some of my family (for whom I am grateful beyond words), drank some great wine and tried to find some much needed perspective. I did but it is all so very tentative at the moment.

Most importantly, I didn't smoke. This is starting to feel like the battle of a lifetime. But first, let me explain... it's not that I really want to smoke. I don't. It's just that I don't yet know how to live without my cigarettes. Worse, I feel like I no longer know who I am. I feel all naked and vulnerable. Until my tired, battered, old body broke down... again... I was right into it and never felt better. But now, I'm on the bench and not even dressed to play, and I'm spiralling into a pit of despair. And the pit is all about the Meat Lovers pizza from Pizza Hut...

The good news here is that I am an old pro at disappointment and heartache and I am nothing, if not a survivor! Note the Chariots of Fire trailer that I have uploaded. If ever there was a film about guts and heart...

I will get through this. I have learned from experience that "getting through it" is really one's only option. I personally invented loathing and self-pity but now they are frankly boring and not at all attractive.

So here's my new plan:

1. continue not smoking (today is day 92 and counting)

2. continue with physio (memo to self: ICE stupid)

3. actually do the core training exercises (I bought a book about Pilates and a ball this weekend)

4. use the 6 sessions of Yoga that I paid for last Fall but never used

5. stop beating myself up for eating my way through this crisis

6. swim

7. modify running goals (c'mon Scott ... you'd die of happiness if you crossed the finish line of a 10k much less a marathon... it is all good)

Non-sequitor and utterly useless trivia: Did you know - that the line "Beam my up Scotty" was never actually spoken in an episode of Star Trek?

What is the good of the strongest heart, in a body that is falling apart, everyday more... Oh my Creator... (Anyone know the musical?)

Had my first physio appointment today. The treatment today was all about my lower back which has been killing me the last couple of days. The therapist said it was inflamed... he asked me if I had been doing the core strengthening exercises that he prescribed last year. I said no, and tried to justify my response by telling him about all the sit-ups, weights and stretching that I have been doing. He said I'd be better off knocking off the sit-ups and just working on the flexion exercises. He asked me if I still had the printouts of the excercises, I lied and said yes. I could kick myself. I hope the therapist does not subscribe to my blog.

He's onside with the swimming as has been suggested several times by various bloggers. Next week, we will try to figure out the cause of the pain when I run.

OMG, I have to deal with the public pool at the Y. (the little voice in my head is yelling at me, Scott, it's about time isn't it? How long are you going to hang on to your fear? Isn't letting go of fear the end all to be all for you at this point in your life... the whole point of everything... well, isn't it huh...) Excuse us, we fight like this regularly.

Honestly, I could cry. I am not in a good place. I want to smoke a package of cigarettes one right after the other - but that would just make matters worse. Dinner was an entire loaf of garlic bread... you know the really good kind from the snooty bakery... talk about emotional eating.... talk about crazy...

It's ironic, Wil's post today is all about gratitude which I often have in abundance. Today, it is not immediately clear to me that I have any whatsoever. Objectively, my woes are, as they say, de minimus. I apologize to the latin scholars - there is probably a much better way of expressing the trivial nature of my problems in latin... Time to go to bed and get over it.

Who said the famous line, "Tomorrow is another day." Was that from Gone with the Wind?

Thankfully, I'm going out of town to my Sister Wendy and Brother-In-Law David's place this weekend (they live on an exquisitely beautiful island across the lake from the Picton Sandbanks on the shores of Lake Ontario if anyone knows that part of the world).

see: www.pec.on.ca photo tour (sorry I haven't figured out how to paste pictures into the template).

Here endeth today's rant.