Where am I?

I'm floating in a bubble. Sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touch is all muted somehow. My pain and anger and boredom has mutated.

I'm numb. Comfortably numb.

I am reminded of a movie I've seen a zillion times with my kids (and without), "Neverending Story." Bastian was up against the Terrible Nothingness that was coming...

I could carry on this way indefinitely...

Won't someone please pop my bubble?

Is this my mid-life crisis?

Or is this something more?

I feel myself spiraling down, down, down into a depression. Maybe I'm not spiraling down anymore, but I'm spiraling 'round and 'round my life-drain like the vortex that forms when water drains out of a bathtub. The good me-ness is draining, and what's left is the angry, suppressed, bored me-ness. This is the me-ness I hide from others.

I'm still running, but it's only due to inertia. Instead of running because of a conscious choice, it's more that I can't NOT run. It's what I do and what I am. I run when I don't feel like it, which is all of the time lately. I must force myself to grab my workout bag and trudge down the stairs to our basement gym (at work) on my lunch break. I force myself to change into my running clothes. I force myself to step onto the dreaded treadmill. And then I force myself to run for 3-4 miles. By mile 2 I am only thinking about being done with it.

And why? Because I'd rather be dead than be fat. And that's the goddamned truth. I never did really like running. Never have, and probably never will.

So what else?

I still hate my job, but honestly I need it. Without it I couldn't continue sending my kids to their wonderfulbutridiculouslyexpensive school.

I love, love, love photography and have actually blossomed into "professional" status this year. That should make me happy, and it does. It really does. But I need and want more. 3 gigs won't cut it. I need constant photography work. I have to make as much with photography as I make doing what I do now in order to leave this.

Is there more? There is always more.

Maybe all of this is just a mid-life crisis as I near my 40th birthday. I thought I was experiencing that last year, but maybe not. Maybe THIS is my mid-life crisis. Or maybe I'm clinically depressed. No, I wouldn't consider suicide, but I do consider running away...I don't want to die - I want to LIVE..........

At the risk of being repetitive...

...OUCH. Still.

When will it not hurt to stand, sit, walk, flush (I have a public restroom phobia and must flush with a foot)??

OUCH!

The Half Mary From Hell

I ran the entire thing - all 13.1 miles. That was goal no. 1.

I bested the two gals I trained with by 20 minutes. That was goal no. 2.

I did not, however, reach goal no. 3, which was to finish in under 2 hours. My time was 2:05. Five lousy minutes. FIVE! Those 5 lousy minutes were all lost in mile 11 when I was forced to run up the Atlanta hills from hell.

But I did it. And it hurt. And it still hurts. Thank god for ibuprofen...

I'm Not A Loser

Today's 5K promsed to be a shitty race: it was a hilly course and it was less than 50 degrees and fairly windy. AND I was representing my employers.

And yet I won 3rd place in my age group. Cute plaque and a not-so cute picture of me holding it backwards.

And just like that, this will go down as a good day.

BOO!

I'm ashamed at how I've let my blog go....

...but my extra time has been filled. Filled with running (I'm training for a half marathon in November) and filled with photography. I've been trying to market myself and my photography such that within the next year I can quit what I currently do (and HATE) and do what I love...my dream job...to be a full-time photographer.

Sigh.

But I'm still around and still fine.

I've run 5-6 5Ks and 1 10K. I'm running my "long run" each week with two women I've teamed up with for the half mary. We usually take those runs on Wednesdays. 10 miles. Ouch. Yesterday after work was our run. Through and around downtown. Ouch.

Mini - we need to connect privately so I can share my new website with you. Must retain my anonymity here, however. Thanks for poking me....

Oh! I never posted results of that 10k! I finished in under an hour AND well ahead of the woman I was running with. Those were my two goals, and I met them. I was a happy and sore camper...

Butterflies - in my butt ?

Now that I've got your attention, let me explain.

I have performance anxiety. Stage fright. Always have. I started ballet at the ripe old age of 3, complete with at least one "recital" yearly which included several dances performed on stage, in front of people. Before each one I got ill. Even when I was a semi pro dancer in a ballet company I would become ill before EVERY performance. You'd think that after performing on stage in the neighborhood of 100 times I would get over it.... Yes, you'd think.

In the 9th grade I was on the track team. Guess where I was before every meet. Yep, in the bathroom.

Just as others complain of having butterflies (in their tummies), I too get butterflies, but MY butterflies are aflutter in my butt! I don't know why. I can't explain the sensation any other way, but when the butterflies are flyin' I have to potty.

Not sure why I divulged all that, except to say that I'm nervous as shit (pun intended here) about my 10k on saturday. Not for fear of not finishing. Of course I'll finish. Not for fear of finishing last. Of course I won't finish last. Why, then? Hell if I know. Fear of not performing up to my expectations, I would imagine.

Anyway, I'm as ready as I can be at this moment. Did a short (3 mile) run today at lunch and the next two days are OFF days.

Thanks for thinking of me, Mini. I was thinking of you earlier as I read this and wanted to share....

http://lifestyle.msn.com/relationships/articleoprah.aspx?cp-documentid=10274156>1=32023