Ok, it’s the middle of the freakin’ night, so I’m only posting something very short here.

Tonight … in a miracle which would have previously been considered utterly impossible … the Red Sox won the World Series. For the first time in 86 years this town can consider itself a winner. The fans stuck through it all, thick and thin, with the knowledge that someday their loyalty would pay off. And honestly, even if it didn’t, it wouldn’t have changed their opinion about the team. There’s nothing like rooting for the home-town boys.

So we walked up to Central Square, hooting and hollering, in order to stand around with a bunch of perfect strangers, tied together by pure joy. And tomorrow we will awake into a city which lost its voice to the celebration of the night before. But every scratchy throat, every tired face, will be worn as a badge of pride … because our team beat the damn Yankees and an 86 year old curse, to become the World Series champion.

Today I am proud to be from Boston.

Go Sox.

Well, I made it to the gym yesterday and managed to work my ass off. I decided that I really haven’t been pushing myself enough when it comes to lifting, so I increased everything by 5 lbs. Doesn’t seem like that should make much of a difference, but it did. Lordy, am I sore today! And I ran on the treadmill and did some elliptical and stretched like a good little girl. It was exhausting.

And now I wake up this morning and feel MUCH sicker than I did yesterday. I’ve been out of bed for 38 minutes and I’ve sneezed 6 times. Mmmm … not so good. I think I’m going to hold off on going to the gym for a bit. Maybe if I feel better later I’ll go and take a class or something. I just wish this cold would go away!

I know, I know … I’ll stop whining.

Today is going to be my first day back to the gym after a week and a half just sitting around my house being ill. I kept on telling myself I was going to go and then when it came right down to it, I was still too sick. What a serious hassle. But yesterday I actually left my house for four whole hours and wandered around Harvard Sq. So if I can do that, I can go to the damn gym. I am totally nervous about running though. I mean, my breathing is still so stuffed up and unpleasant that running is going to be a serious chore. I think today I’ll go back to week one and just take it easy. But for god’s sake, I have got to do something active. I’m going crazy!

Things with J are just on their usual rollercoaster ride. For game seven of the ALCS we just sat at home and watched it together and it was awesome. I don’t think we’ve been that comfortable with each other in a long time. And I know we haven’t laughed like that in months. But then, as always seems to happen, we can’t have a high without having a new lowest low. I’m so tired of this shit. I’m so tired of walking around all the time worrying about what’s going on in my relationship. It’s freakin’ exhausting!

And, on another front, I’ve already started thinking about Christmas. Oooh, I love it. In the Spanish class that I was taking last year, they had us ask each other, “Cual es tu dia favorita?” (Which means what’s your favorite day). Everybody else in the class said their birthdays or anniversaries or what have you. I didn’t even have to think about it. Mine was December 24th. I love the anticipation of Christmas Eve, the listening to Christmas music, drinking hot cider, and decorating the tree. I love knowing that the next morning everyone is going to open all the wonderful presents from you. I really don’t care about the presents that I get, to me that’s totally inconsequential. But giving someone a really good present, that’s the best feeling in the world. Oooooh, I just can’t wait.

No good. I’m still sick. Fucking cold went straight from my head down into my lungs. I guess that’s really what I get for being an ex-smoker. So now it’s not just that I can’t breathe through my nose, it’s that I also can’t breathe through my mouth. Lungs are hating me. And yes, the anxiety is kicking in hard-core due to this. So I’m not going to the gym today. I’m not going anywhere, except right back to my couch. I was supposed to go out dancing tonight, but I’m not even sure that I can do that. Boo.

But it’s all made better by the Red Sox kicking the ever-loving crap out of the Yankees last night.

Screw the curse! We’re going to the World Series!!!!!

I haven’t written for a while because I’ve been sick as hell. Last night I went over to L’s house for a practice session and it was the first time that I had left my house since Saturday night. Not cool. It’s just a bad cold, but really … it’s a BAD cold. I can’t breathe, my head has been totally stuffy, I’ve had a headache like you wouldn’t believe, etc. It’s sucked. I feel like I’m finally on the mend though, so the world is looking slightly better today.

But, of course, what this means is that I haven’t been running. Shit, getting up from the couch and going to the bathroom has been a big enough chore, there’s no way I was going to run. But that sucks! I haven’t been to the gym since Saturday morning. No good.

So anyway, that’s about it. I still feel like ass, but it’s a little bit better today. Hopefully tomorrow morning I will wake up refreshed and without all these little aches and pains all over. Because honestly, I think I’m going to the gym no matter what tomorrow, so I certainly hope I’ll feel better.

A silly quote…

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming “WOO HOO what a ride!”

…but it does make me happy.

I’ve got a whole bunch of stuff to say and it’s not particularly organized, so today I’m going to be working with bullets.

Ok, I don’t know how to say this without sounding bitchy, so I’m just going to spit it out and hope you understand that I’m not being mean. This blog, for me, has mostly replaced my writing in my paper journal, which means that this is pretty much the innermost workings of my brain. And honestly, for the most part, I don’t want to talk about the innermost workings of my brain. I gave you the address for this blog so that you could read it, understand me better, and I definitely don’t regret that. But I want you to understand that I don’t really want to talk about it. I want you to treat me in exactly the same way that you would if you weren’t reading this, ok? Please understand that I don’t intend this to be mean at all. I don’t want you to feel bad, I don’t want you to apologize, but I do need you to understand. I love the fact that you’re reading it and gaining a better understanding of who I am (without my public mask on) but I also just want you to treat me exactly the same way you treat everybody else, no matter what it says here. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t want this to be a dialogue. It’s meant more to be a monologue that y’all can listen in on and comment on. Because really, I love the comments, so please don’t stop those. (hugs)

I was reading an article yesterday which said, “Anxiety disorder requires professional help. For a person with the disorder, trying to talk themselves down out of a panic attack is not only completely useless, it is also completely impossible.” Well you know what? Fuck you, I’m going to prove you wrong. Shit, I did it before. I went off of Zoloft without any repercussions. I stopped having panic attacks and feeling anxious all the time because I had figured out how to stop it. And now, I haven’t had to deal with that stuff for long enough that I’ve gotten completely out of touch with that particular aspect of who I am. You know, I was actually considering going back on Zoloft? I’m not saying that it’s wrong for anybody else, but for me it is. It’s so completely against everything that I believe for myself, that I couldn’t imagine doing it. And yet I was so panicky that I was imagining it. But I’m not going to. Instead I’m going to figure out how to do this for myself again. Because I know I can and, honestly, because I have to.

Thank you so much, Mia, for the link about the anti-anxiety diet. I guess I knew that there were things out there that could naturally help me feel better, but I wasn’t sure what they were. So having some idea of what I should be eating is really helpful. And turkey is just about number one on the list! That makes me SO happy, because I loooooooooove turkey!

One of the things that experts suggest you do to combat anxiety is exercise all the time, so I think I need to step up my routine. I really do think that getting a personal trainer is something that I need to do. I get Shape magazine, which suggests a bunch of exercises, but at this point I really can’t afford to do them wrong and injure myself. I need to make sure that I’m doing them right. And yesterday in anatomy we were talking about the fact that movement is life. It made me want to cry. Lou, our teacher, kept on saying that one of the most important things that you can do for yourself is lead an active life. She was talking about how the body changes through exercise. And she’s right. Did you know that your bones grow when you exercise a lot? Just amazing. I feel like going to massage school will really help me in my working out, if only because I’ll have a better idea of what muscles I’m using. Awfully cool.

I was complaining to a guy at school yesterday about what a hard time I’m having with this whole running thing. He is a serious runner, track and field type of fella. When I told him that I’m only on week three of a ten week program (ok, I’m repeating week two again, to be honest) he laughed at me. He thought it was hilarious that I was complaining about it. And he made an excellent point. He said, “You know, it’s a ten week program for a reason.” I just automatically assume that I’m going to start seeing improvements immediately, but I’ve never done anything like this before. Of course there’s no quick-fix solution to this. One of the guy’s on Runner’sWorld said that when he was doing the run/walk program he stayed on week three for four weeks and stayed on week four for three weeks. I know I shouldn’t compare myself to other people, but it is nice to know that others have as many problems with this as I do. Makes me feel a little better about myself and my potential for improvement.

And I’ve got another running goal. I want to do the Multiple Myeloma 5k run which is done at the beginning of May. That’s only slightly over 3 miles. In order to be ready to do that I have to learn how to run 3 miles in the next 7 months. Seems totally reasonable, right? And you know I’ll love it enough that I’ll be super excited to train for the 1/2 marathon in October of next year. Awesome. It’s good to have goals.

I guess that’s about it. I really just had a couple of important things I wanted to address. I’m working super hard on dealing with all this random crap going on inside of my own head. It’s difficult, but it’s got to be done. And I really believe that I can beat this shit.

I’ve been slacking pretty hardcore recently, so it’s time to get back to it. Honestly though, slacking is a little too harsh. There were definitely some days when I just didn’t want to do anything and, on the advice of friends, decided not to … and then over the weekend I hurt my neck while I was sleeping so I didn’t do anything for a couple days because of that … and there was the wedding which meant that everything was all busy and hectic. Etc, etc, etc. Basically, I haven’t done anything for about a week, but there’s good (ish) reasons for all of it.

Ordered myself three running books from Amazon yesterday. Hoping that having something to read about running will cause me to stay inspired and, hopefully, teach me a couple of things. Everybody’s always talking about over vs. under pronating while running. And while I know what those words mean (thank you, MTI) I guess I don’t really understand what they mean in terms of running. Ah, it’s just an entirely new set of terminology, words, and expressions that I have to learn. I’m hoping that reading about it all will help.

And on a completely different subject …

My anxiety has been SO bad recently. Aargh. I’m back to having problems swallowing because it’s gotten that bad again. Honestly, I can’t figure out why! J and I had a discussion/argument the other night during which I had a full-blown panic attack (gasping for air and all that jazz). That, of course, makes more sense. But I was feeling totally panicky at the wedding, for no good reason whatsoever. And just sitting on my couch, or trying to fall asleep, or going grocery shopping. Makes no sense.

I think that the problem I’m having is that I’ve forgotten how to relax. Even when I’m sitting around doing nothing I’m still thinking about school or relationship, neither of which is a particularly relaxing subject. And most of my relaxation avenues are now null and void … I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, and I’m just too hyped up all the time to chill out. It’s really annoying. I just feel like it’s a viscious circle: I can’t relax so I get anxious which means I can’t relax so I get anxious, etc. It’s just really starting to wear me down. I’m exhausted from being so amped up and anxious all the time. I need to figure this out.

Anyway. As you can see this isn’t really a well thought out subject. It’s just so muddled up there in my brain when it comes to this shit. I honestly just have to find a way to relax. Hopefully yoga will do wonders for me tonight.

I have no inspiration today. I didn’t go to the gym yesterday (school) and I didn’t go the day before (ridiculously sore) so now here I am today just making up excuses for not going. The only real excuse I’ve got is that I just want to sit on the couch and watch movies all day. Totally not valid. Ack. And we’re doing an off-site day for school tomorrow (like a ropes course except less physical) so I’ve got no homework. Homework is generally a good inspiration for me, because it still means that there’s something I HAVE to do, which makes doing anything easier.

And I’ve already used all my inspiration tricks … looking at pictures of people I know who are in super good shape, reading everything on the runner’s world forums, weighing myself, etc. Nothing’s working. I hate days like this.

Yesterday was a hard day. I got up late (9am…ooh…the luxury), went to the gym, did my running stuff, some weights, and (as always) stretching. Watched the people doing the yoga class at the gym and started thinking about yoga. Then, sort of spur of the moment, decided to go to yoga last night. I guess I hadn’t really realized just exactly how much my quads hurt from running, but they do! Doing all the warrior poses was just killing me. I know that my legs have gotten stronger, even just from running the short amount of time that I have been (honestly, you should see my calves … they’re awesome!) but I guess my legs are now getting accustomed to one kind of exercise and not another. I am totally out of yoga shape! Not only that, but Gregor had the room up to 97 degrees. 97?? Who is he trying to kill? The answer here, of course, is me. And I’m now unbelievably sore and not looking forward to going to the gym.

The more I run, the tighter I get. I am not willing to give up any of my hard-earned flexibility though, so I really have to make sure that yoga is part of my routine. I guess that knowing the gym offers yoga at times where it’s semi-reasonable for me to be there is helpful. I can definitely go to those, although I really don’t like them as much as I like Baptiste. Yoga without the heat is boring! Although, I guess, yoga with as much heat as I had yesterday is murderous. There is a toss-up here.

Oh yeah, one more thing. I wanted to address the smoking issue one more time. Just so you know, I used to smoke. I was a pack-a-day smoker for six years. I loved me some damn cigarettes. But then J and I got involved and I began to see that there was something else that I wanted more than that. I began to see that my smoking was going to get in the way of my ultimate goal … a family. So I started hating smoking. Every single time I lit a cigarette I would hate the fact that I was doing it. I hated how it made me feel, I hated how it made me smell, I hated being dependant on those stupid little things. So I decided to quit. And don’t get me wrong here, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But whenever the desire to smoke overwhelmed me and I started to panic, I would just think to myself, “But I want to see my kids graduate from high school.” And that thought would make me strong enough to quit. That was almost 3 years ago.

I guess the thing that makes me really angry about the entire situation is that I feel like I’m working to become the kind of person that I want to be and J isn’t. J and I have these dreams that we’re supposed to be heading towards, but I feel like I’m the only one who’s doing anything about it and that he’s just sitting around waiting for me to do everything. His smoking is only a part of this, but for me it is a really important one.