Running & Writing My Life

Running & Writing My Life

When I started this blog I had two purposes in mind:

1. Write about my running--a favorite passion
2. Write about my writing--another favorite passion

RUNNING:
Way back then I ran 3-4 times weekly, and most runs were approximately 5-6 miles long, with an occasional longer run every other week. On non-running days I might ride my bike or hike or walk with my husband. I eventually bought a camera to capture some of the interesting sights I discovered along the way. Being out on the streets and in nature in my Happy Little Village opened my eyes. Running might seem fast paced, but it is so much slower and more organic than rushing past everything in a car. By organic, I mean earthy and natural. I knew when barnyards thawed in the spring, if a deer had been hit by a car and lay decaying just beyond sight, and developed the skill of running without breathing if a dead skunk lay in the gutter. I saw weeds sprouting in spring, knew which direction the wind came from and understood chill factor. Along stretches of unfinished roadside I understood ground saturation and how much water sand, clay and gravel could hold and which was as slippery as snot when wet. I kept my eye on lightning and storms. I observed clouds, birds, garbage collection trucks, distracted drivers and knew school start and ending times. I wore red running gloves and short sleeves some days. In winter I frequently donned a lime green or red jacket for visibility. I never assumed a driver saw me, or if they did, they remembered they saw me the moment after they glanced away--which saved my life more than once. I accepted responsibility for my own safety, and it paid off many times.

WRITING:
Encouraged by family and friends, but more out of my own personal desire, I write. When I began my blog I decided it would be a way to express thoughts and ideas that would probably never find their way into my novels. I simply had too much to share. The blog would contain these tid-bits. At that time I worked full time and had very little time to write, but when I did, I focused on novels. But when writing 150,000 words, give or take ten to fifty-thousand words or so, it can be exhausting at times. My blog became my outlet to say something succinct (if I felt like it). But I'm way into blah, blah, blah, and I won't apologize for it, either.

CHANGE!
My job changed. Who lived under my roof changed. My health changed. My income changed. My responsibilities changed. My health changed some more. My husband's health changed. Everything close to my heart experienced a rapid, non-stop, unexpected journey into change. And all at once, it seemed. Ongoing change during about a three to four year period of time became the new norm. Nothing seemed to be excluded. It was like experiencing whip-lash over and over again. Yup, surprising, unexpected and sometimes with a quick fix and other times a little more painful for a longer period of time until I adjusted. In my suddenly turned inside-out, upside-down world that kept on spinning I put away many things in order to survive. Writing, along with all the joy it brought me, and many other hobbies went first. Running came and went until health issues forced it into a past tense passion. I abandoned my blog--kind of like stuffing it inside a coffin and nailing the lid shut. But I didn't bury it, or my manuscripts. Like seeds buried deep in mother earth over the winter, I hoped someday the sun would shine on my writing again and my desire to put my thoughts and ideas down would sprout and my little neglected blog and dusty novels would return to life.

TIME:
For maybe the past twelve months I have considered writing and posting again. During that first month I was so discouraged when nothing happened that I considered giving up the dream entirely. I want to comment on those feelings because it's important to understand that the first little tugs of desire are only tugs. They are not full-blown accomplishments. You see, sometimes goals and dreams seem so far away and unobtainable that no matter how hard you stretch, work and try, there seems to be no way to ever reach them. Not even halfway. Not even the first two steps along the way. Tugs are first little motions, and are miles away from the victory dances that begin later as you celebrate reaching goals along the path leading to accomplishment. 

When changes began in my life everything was turned into crazy chaos mingled with, among other things, an over-abundant dose of "entitlement" feelings. Let's look closer at what "entitlement" meant in my case: How many women in their mid to late-fifties, like me, are changing diapers and dealing with diaper rash and odors, and babysitting between one to six or more children on occasion, or planning dinner for an undetermined sized group of people, and doing this sometimes two, three, four or more times a week, and often doing these things late into the night? How many have crammed half their living space into the other half of their living space and remodeled a part of their home to add another family which they love and cherish, and given them privacy and autonomy under their roof, and then later crammed their own portion of diminished living space even tighter and restructured it again in order to house yet another three people--another portion of their beloved family--that needs love and security? All of this didn't last the whole three to four years, but is a part of the in and out, coming and going, and ongoing changes I've witnessed.

How many women in the empty-nest section of their lives, who have hopped on the back of a Harley and toured Yellowstone and Zion's National Park and toured Canada and many other areas, and have been free to come and go as desired for many years and as often as they wanted, desire to suddenly return to watching Dora the Explorer as she travels up one hill and past the blueberry patch to reach a fun destination? Or who is delighted to suddenly return to a full nest with cute little nestlings that need constant, don't-turn-your-back-on-them attention? Suddenly, leaving my home at will became impossible. I had to plan trips to the grocery store around a nap. Currently, if no one is home or available, I visit my hair stylist after arranging for a babysitter that I pay for. I can't even count back how many years ago I did that in my younger days. Maybe twenty five, or more? 

How many women who have run in Yellowstone, along Daytona Beach, in Hawaii, New England and San Diego suddenly relish the idea of running from one end of their house to the other, and up and down, to put out fires, prevent disasters, and grab a tissue, a diaper or a damp rag? I wanted to do all that running back and forth from bedroom to kitchen to bathroom and back, etc., for everyone, and do it well and with love because I'm a mom and grandmother and mother-in-law who loves my family and loves serving them. But I had no clue how to do all that again, or in a new way, and do it well at times, because I lacked experience in some cases, and things came up so unexpectedly, and some of the changes followed unpleasant announcements, like, "guess what, mom and dad...." that sent a knot into my stomach that made running both easy and hard, and lots of other tasks in between sometimes overwhelming and/or exhausting.

Being the weekend Granny who did those things when asked, when arranged for, when I offered, or when they needed me was one thing--a very happy thing, but doing them daily because crisis and change and needs hit my children and their family's lives, and in at least one case was thrust on them by outside forces, was entirely surprising and gut-wrenching at times. I knew how to put out short-term fires, and stop short-term floods, but I had no experience with longer lasting situations that had no ending in sight. Now, I'm happy to report, I'm learning that skill.

So when I use the term time, I'm referring to how everything in my personal timeline changed, and not because I scheduled in some exciting, highly anticipated short term or long term alterations, but because someone else needed and requested the changes, and there was nothing else I could do that I'd feel comfortable with. I altered my timeline. It was my choice.

I will admit that sometimes it felt like a prison sentence--but one that I chose for a specific reason. I know that sounds contradictory, but that is the best way I can explain it. Starting any new job can feel similar, so I'll use that analogy, even though it's not exactly perfect. Here goes: New Job: You want it, you have a desire to do it, you applied for it, and you're excited about it. Wow, you're ready for it--bring it on! And then the job starts. Wait a minute! You discover this new job takes time to catch on to--surprise, surprise! There are new routines, new requirements, new machinery, new equipment and new techniques you weren't completely prepared for. Your new bosses and coworkers have already settled into their work and like the flow and want you to catch up and keep up, but you're not sure what the flow is yet because you're the new one in the office. You give it your best and things are working pretty well--in your mind--but of course, you're also many times feeling like you're swimming against the current when in reality you haven't found the current yet. But you're looking for it, and you're not giving up. You have a desire to fit into the new job and work environment, be successful, and get to the point where you begin floating through each day--in that sweet current, which is not the same as frantically paddling or bailing and wishing you could see even a tiny hint of the shoreline. You know the feeling. You want few hitches and no, or at least less, unexpected glitches. When the new job becomes comfortable you discover you love it--just like you thought you would. It seems as if it was custom made for you. A perfect fit. Dream job come true! All the past unexpected and difficult things you learned and endured and struggled through at first have become easy, and those easy things now take little or no brain power to accomplish so you add flourish and your personal touch to everything you do as if they are your personal masterpiece in your creation. So fun! You've begun to enjoy singular and long lasting moments more, or again. Maybe you're thinking other thoughts, thoughts beyond those on how to finish a task and survive the new job. Now you're making future plans, preparing ahead, perfecting, and you're being who you really are as you go along--confident, capable, happy, energetic (you get the idea--any positive attribute fits here), without stressing out because your personality and inner core--your unique life sparks--can and are easily applied in those moments, rather than spending everything you've got on figuring it out and accomplishing something huge and unknown. Enough on that. The analogy basically works. In families it can be the same--you work at it, rework it, and if you keep at it you figure out what works best for happiness and a smooth flow, and once it becomes easier, pleasant times naturally enter the picture more often, and with more meaning and joy. Real life--the life you want that's filled with your individual life spark and your touches--begins in earnest because you're not struggling so hard over the basics. The basics are now second nature.
 

With the frantic sink-or-swim mentality reduced or gone, laughter comes more often without planning or bidding. Mini-vacations occur more often, taking place in the mind, around the dinner table, in the back yard, driving to or from the grocery store, while picking the little ones up from preschool, etc. Anywhere and everywhere. Mini-vacations are times when photos are seldom snapped, but happy memories are stored up. Maybe not stashed in the mind as wow and wonderful events, but complied into good feelings, inner joy, an aura of peace, and the feeling that all is well, good, and right in life. They are tiny vacations into the Land of Contentment and along the beach of "I've got this covered." Mini-vacations mean all is right in life, even when everything is not perfect. They are umbrellas during life's storms and the rainbow on the horizon that reminds us that things will be fine. Just fine.

Okay, this has been way too much to read for anyone, including me. To be succinct (I'll give it a go...), Too much different landed on my shoulders too fast, and many of my safety valves were put to the test and the umbrella wasn't sure it could hold up. In order to stay afloat, which I did by the way, I gave up many things in life that I valued because many other things I valued more needed every ounce of energy and devotion I had. You've heard the saying, "not on my watch." Well, I lived that. Daily. Under changing and sometimes difficult circumstances, and during times I didn't even know I could have or should have prepared for. Believe me, there is no real preparations that can be made in advance for some situations, except personal qualities of commitment, dedication, integrity, etc. Even though I made my choices, sometimes the consequences hurt, because sometimes changes hurt until they become familiar and comfortable. Like how sometimes new shoes that fit well in the store and for the first three hours of wearing them can begin to kill your feet two seconds later until they're completely broken in. Sometimes the changes I experienced were like hiking Mt. Everest in shoes like that, and getting blisters. Big, bulgy, ouchy blisters! Sometimes daily. But there was a mountain to climb, so there was no kicking off the shoes before reaching the summit. I could give a hundred other analogies, maybe even better ones, but they all mean the same thing--daily, constant, on-going changes with consequences, and occasional questioning and second-guessing and rethinking because what hurts, actually hurts. I continually reviewed my choices because I kept getting those awful hot spots that precede blisters. And I got a few blisters that popped along the way. But I felt the heat building and "changed socks or applied bandaids," so to speak, meaning, I studied it out (still do), and realized over and over again that changing many of the choices I originally made would hurt more--more people, more long term, and in more ways. Sometimes I found a way to make a change, or make many changes, that helped ease the hot spots--the way the shoe rubbed. No one ever lives alone in this world. Ever. And when you choose to dedicate your life to your family and those you love, you will go through the rough times with them, for them, and sometimes because of them. You'll witness their hurts as well as their joys. You'll sorrow with them, and cheer for and with them. You'll wear the shoes. You'll keep them on. You'll be okay, and better than okay along the way, and best of all, more than okay at the top.

Anyway, I plugged away at each and every change--that new job that I decided I wanted when it was offered to me--until some of the changes and newness associated with a job change lessened and the work load began flowing smoother and with fewer surprises. (Did I say zero surprises? Nope. Life isn't like that....) Anyway, that's when I could finally begin writing again. You see, my household number had dropped to half of what it had swelled to as one family moved on to experience their own successes and joys under their own roof. As for those still spending a portion of their time under my care: I've learned how to nap them, feed them, clean up after them, occasionally keep ahead of them, and honestly, the 1-year old is now three, and the nearly 3-year old will soon turn five, and those changes alone mean a lot. Constant diapers and naps and scrubbing out sour baby bottles has turned into reading and homework and other needs. It really doesn't mean I have more time, it simply means that I'm using it differently. Although, I will admit, sometimes it does mean more time because I can and have handed one Grand my iPad while the other Grand naps, and I can write for twenty or thirty minutes during the diversion. Taking my attention off the Grands doesn't equate to me paying for it later by spending three hours cleaning up a disaster. Yes, that happened a few times at first because I'd forgotten basic parenting skills, but it occurs less now. Can you see why I tossed writing out? People--my people--the family I love--matters more. And to keep the house standing, the Grands safe, my sanity intact, and a basic blanket of peace covering my household.

Finally, after all these years, my brain is no longer totally focused on what I need to do for everyone, or what I might be missing out on during these supposedly "entitled" years of my life, or weeping over what I used to know about toddlers and preschoolers that I've forgotten and have to relearn, or what sounds I really should be in-tuned to when all is quiet. It can finally begin snatching free seconds here and there to think my own thoughts and arrange them the way I desire, and maybe record them during spare moments.

I don't apologize for the length of this post. I've read short posts, stories and articles that said and meant very little, and others that meant a lot to me. I've come away either fed or famished. It was my choice. The same goes for long articles. Sometimes it was totally my fault for starving, and completely my credit for feasting. I offer the same outcome to my readers. It's that simple.

If you got this far, yay for you! I'm living a new life now--very different and unknown than the one when I began my blog. I've survived a broken neck, enjoyed a house bursting at the seams, lost a job I loved, retired from another which I loved even more, and given up a third. I've hauled my car home from a vacation on a trailer, had my fridge flood my basement and undergone major home repairs as a result, cared for and lost my father, and put my house up for sale only to remove it due to unexpected surgeries and health issues. I've gone from grand vacations to no vacations. I've gone from running to knowing I should never run again. Or ride a snowmobile, or a horse, or four-wheelesr or jet skis. I've experienced changes I never expected or planned, and I've planned things I've never seen come about. I live now in completely uncharted territory with an understanding that life can be like that all the time for some people, which is something I never even contemplated before, I'm sad to admit. I understand life and people better than I ever did before. I've seen more sorrow, more happiness, more hope and more loss. I've seen effects of actions and reactions. As for me, I'm navigating as best I can.

Back to my blog. I began to share more because I'd experiences more. And then it took a huge, unexpected twist when I posted my first novel, and then again when I posted the second. I NEVER planned on posting two novels. Ever! Because I've enjoyed it so much--sharing a gift I fashioned myself for others, I've decided to post another novel in the future. How soon, I don't know. My third novel in the series I've shared has been sitting in my drawer (actually an email) for a few years now. I've recently edited many chapters of it, but the manuscript is still unfinished. Good news: I've been working on it. Even better news: I know the direction it's heading--I've known for years. Best news: I'm planning on posting it. Bad news: unlike some other writers who post novels as they write each chapter, I won't begin posting until my work is 100% complete. I discovered I have a speed-demon mentality when I begin posting a new novel, and that doesn't work out very well if the last 10 chapters or so aren't written!

In the meantime, keep coming back. Skim or read my blog. Comment if you'd like. Ignore it for a while and then check back if that's your style. But please, if you liked the first two novels, come back once in a while. I will keep you updated on my writing progress and let you know when to expect the postings of my next novel to begin. While you wait, offer suggestions for the title if you'd like because that isn't set in print-cement yet.

~~ Leona

*Update. Due to unforeseen hitches which I will probably explain in a later post, I most likely won't post book three until next year. In the meantime, take a break or keep checking back!