Where I make real French bread, y'all

Oy, what a day.

Yoga at noon, then much time spent in the kitchen. Did you know that French bread takes, like, 4 hours to make? I didn't. Until I started making it. Nevertheless, it was done in time for dinner: squash soup (butternut, acorn) with chicken thighs. The bread was unbelievably good. As good as - if not better than- the Farm to Market stuff I get at the store. Very labor intensive, especially compared to the sandwich bread I can crank out. But I think I'll make it now and then. 

So now: exhausted. I walked yesterday, and made bread (again). Right now. it's a combo of cooking/baking, workouts/walks/yoga, housework, and working with Henry on reading. That's it. Tomorrow is a trip to see Dad's radiation Oncologist with Addie in tow, because most of the people I know in real life are tools that won't call me back when they know I need a favor. Suck it, shallow soccer moms!

A kid free morning, y'all! 

Walked a sort one - just under an hour. Definitely like walking at night better. I like it dark, quiet. and still. But I got it done, so that's good. Either yoga or swinging tomorrow. Not sure which. 

Where I do a grillion loads of laundry, vacuum up hairballs the size of Rhode Island, and put off swinging

On a positive note? I have been slacking on the housekeeping, and I am damn near caught up on laundry, and everyone has clean sheets now. I hadn't cleaned up our room in... awhile. There were freakishly large dustbunnies under all the furniture. So it's all done, clean, beds are made (gasp!) but here it is, close to 4pm, and no swinging yet. I'm doing a monster walk tonight - more out of necessity than straight exercise (it's back to school night, and parking is such a bitch, mom offered to drop me off, then I walk home. It's a hella walk.)- and so I keep going back and forth on the rationalizing. But dammit, KBs and walking are tow totally different activities, who am I fooling? Okay, as soon as I'm done here, no more bullshit.

I've gone off the Zoloft. Pretty much cold turkey. A couple of reasons: 

1. Dad is doing better. Not great, but at least somewhat stable. For the moment.
2. I was starting to feel slightly dulled in the emotional sense. I have heard people on antidepressants talk about this feeling, and I frankly hated it. 
3. When they say under side effects 'decreased sexual desire' - they are not kidding around. For the last 3 months, I couldn't have been less in the mood if I was falling out of a plane. Bryan was getting rather... frustrated.
4. I was starting to feel like it wasn't doing a whole lot of good. Maybe I'll feel I need it down the road, but right now, I want to try to make it without the drugs

So there it is.

* Alrighty, that was yesterday... and I obviously never got around to finishing. Let's see: walk yes, but a fairly short one as I was feeling puny. KBs no, as before, feeling meh. Today? A long ass visit with Mom and Dad to the Oncologist, whom I love, but seeing as she's the #1 Lung Cancer Doc in town, she double and triple books, and we were there for a couple hours. Not a lot of new news, but he seems to be, in a bloodwork stance, tolerating chemo fairly well. He starts the next round tomorrow, which means the next week or so, he'll be down for the count. We took Addie and went to lunch with my brother (who is not as connected with the family, married to a total nutcase, and very self centered. I was not overjoyed to see him.) for Mom and Dad's anniversary. As the long day wore on, I felt crappier and crappier. I've had a cough for a few weeks, but kept chalking it up to allergies. It's gotten worse, and I'm getting that telltale bronchitis tightness in my chest. Son of a bitch. I have a wheezy cough and just feel run down. I went to Urgent Care at 5:30, and after hearing family history (lung cancer, lung cancer and oh, yeah, lung cancer! Three family members including Dad.) said 'let's do an X ray. Like, now!' 

I was glad they did, even though I knew it was too soon for the bronchitis to show up. I know from here on out that I'll be totally paranoid anytime I have an ongoing cough. I didn't realize how much I've been suppressing emotions until the kindly nurse came in and patted my hand and said 'your lungs look great, no spots, no shadows" and I promptly burst into tears. I cried all the way home. I cried for my fear of the future and the unknown. I cried because I'm lonely and frustrated. I cried because my Dad will die someday very soon. I cried because I'm terrified it will happen to me. There is an isolation that goes along with having a dying parent. You have to be strong for them, and so often, people around you don't know what to say or do. You find yourself, in return, building up walls and wearing armor, because you get so tired of being let down and disappointed. People see you as aloof or stand offish, and I want to say 'this is what I have to do to survive each day. I can't let my guard  down, even for a moment. Because if I do, you'll see how fragile I really am.'

The doctor started me on Zpac to head this crap off at the pass. Which is awesome, because I can't afford to be really sick. He also gave me steroids and cough syrup so I can sleep. I'm hoping to feel back to normal by the weekend, then I can refocus on training. It is the only thing that keeps me sane, and when I can't do it, I miss it terribly.

I had a breakthrough moment while walking the other night. I am a typically reserved person, I've talked about my inferiority issues and never feeling good enough. As a kid, the only time I felt good about myself was when I was in ballet class. I took for 10 years, and I was good. It was one of the few things I knew I was good at. When I was dancing, I felt strong and confident and beautiful. I felt superhuman. I haven't had anything that has made me feel that way in years. When I go on a crazy ass long walk, and I am doing free running and parkour- style leaps and jumps and running up a steep hill, I feel so damn strong and good. When I do 500 or 600 kettlebell swings (or 1000, like that one time!), I feel 100% confident in myself. I feel like I know who I am. That's why I love it. It's better than any therapy. And no matter how much the world around me is crumbling, that's something I can control. It's an aspect of my life that I know will only keep getting better, as long as I choose to continue training.

Alright, this entry has gone on way too long and been all over the place.  I'm off to take a shower and wait for the narcotic -based tussin (woot!) to kick in. And hopefully, tomorrow I'll feel better.

Where I feel like I had the crap beat out of me

I have no idea how far I went last night - I'll have to drive it today and see. It was a new route, I was getting bored with my usual one. I'd say maybe 6 miles? More? Less? I went a way that had a lot more steep hills (Kansas is not really that flat, y'all) and experimented with a little parkour. I had reloaded my iPod with new music (M.I.A, Goldfrapp, Linkin Park, and the new NIN album) and found it to be very motivating. I have been using the same workout tunes for about a year, and there's only so much Ac/Dc and Rob Zombie you can listen to! So anyhoo, I am shredded this morning, and definitely feel like I went 10 rounds in the ring.

The Vibram monkey shoes are still a hit with me. I find I can walk farther without knee pain, light jogging is easier, and they're just all around comfier. It is obvious that I use different muscles when I wear them, my calves and quads really hurt! 

OKay, off to take the kids to school.....

I did a workout... I think Sunday? Forgot to post it, but it was 200 swings and such. Couldn't tell you the exact breakdown. 

Anyway, today was 395. I did 250 swings (sets of single transfers and then sets of 5 swings per arm before transferring- one minute sets) with the 12kg and then 100 swings with the 16kg (alternating sets of single trans and 2 handed swings- 30 second sets). The rest double C&P with the 8kg and snatches with the 8kg. Those double C&P nearly killed me, my shoulders feel shredded. 

I went for a walk the other night, unaware that there was an electrical storm brewing. I was about a mile from home when I noticed the crazy lightening not too far away. I decided to keep going and make it a quick walk, instead of my usual 5 mile trip. As I rounded a corner and thought to myself I had made a bad decision, I saw a car parked in the middle of the street. I realized it was my paranoid Mom, who is a weather freak and came looking for me. She said she had driven by me, but didn't think it was me at first because I looked so skinny - she thought I was a high school girl out walking! My Mom is not one to hand out compliments, but about every other day she tells me how great I look, and how KBs having really transformed my body. This is the first time in a long time that I look in the mirror and don't totally pick myself apart. Too bad the rest of my life sucks.

What other people are seeing as anti-social behavior, or me being pissy and uncooperative, I know it's me being healthy and looking out for me. I can't keep putting myself last on the list of priorities. I have to start saying 'no' to some people, so I can say 'yes' to me.

I felt such overwhelming relief last night. I turned down doing the big Progressive Dinner this fall, I severed a few ties that were unhealthy, and I just felt like a weight was gone. I took a long walk, listened to the new NIN album, and looked at the moon. It was low and hazy, and Vega was visible just above it, a brilliant glistening blue-white. There's something so peaceful walking in the dark, observing the creatures that come out: slugs, opossums, grey foxes, bats, frogs, spiders spinning webs down from street lamps. Down by the creek, I can hear crickets and bullfrogs. There's no one out, just me. I felt so at peace. I thought 'I can't change who I am, any more than I can change who anyone else is.' I feel like the last year has been like playing dress up as a little girl: trying something new on for size, seeing if it worked, if it fit. If these types of people were true and loyal and friends. But it was just a masque, just play acting, just make believe. And the oddest part is: I don't feel sad. I don't feel like I've lost anything. You can't lose something you never had to begin with. So I just sighed and breathed, listen to more music, and looked at the moon.

.Did you think that your feet had been bound 
By what gravity brings to the ground? 
Did you feel you were tricked 
By the future you picked? 
Well, come on down 

All those rules don’t apply 
When you’re high in the sky 
So, come on down 
Come on down 

Where I pee blood and learn the extent of my night blindness

Sorry for the lapse in posting... did I mention we were going to Mississippi? Anyway, we're back, and it was really a nice break from reality. My mother in law took me out and we did weapons-grade shopping. We're talking needing a hazmat suit for this shit. It was fun yet totally insane. For example, she got me these: 

Oh hell, yeah, motherfuckers. Silver leather Coach patchwork shoes. I actually gasped when I saw them. Then she also insisted I get a new dress for the reunion. I never got to go to my prom, and getting ready for this felt very much like what it must be like. PLus, my MIL totally blinged me out. I had on her diamond ring that Angie refers to as 'the skating rink' and a lovely teardrop diamond necklace.

You can't see the whole dress, but it was floor length, with vertical ruffles cascading down the front. As Angie said, it made me look 10 feet tall and like I was a size 2.

So yeah, that was all fun - except the night of the meet and greet, when I came down with a raging UTI. I've never had one of those little fuckers before. Oh dear, sweet baby Jesus. That was awful. It hit me out of nowhere, towards the end of the evening, and by the time we got home, I was miserable. Yes, I peed blood. I drank a ton of water and slept half the night on the bathroom floor. The next day, we found an urgent care nearby - I was halfway hoping it would be like the SNL skit Appalachia ER (it would have made a great story) - but it was fine, I got some Cipro, and was feeling better by the time I needed to get all fancied up.

So, at the end of the big bash, Bryan is shit faced. I had not planned on driving, so I didn't bring my glasses, my license, nothing. Plus, we were driving this, my father in laws insanely fast and expensive car. And I had to drive home. On unfamiliar roads. Without my glasses. Or a license. And there are no streetlights in rural Mississippi. Oh, and did I mention I am terribly night blind? I think it was a toss up as to who was better equipped to drive home. I white knuckled it the whole way home, I tell you!

The day after we came back, Leo's ashes were ready. We haven't had the funeral yet. They did his pawprints in some clay, it was a sweet memento. I'm dealing with all kinds of family crap and drama and a sick dad and a mom who makes me feel guilty for sport, and all I want to do is go back to my in-laws house, where I feel loved and appreciated and they hand out compliments like it's normal. I miss my demonic nieces. Best quote of the trip? My sister in law Angie yelling at Isabella "Keep the underwear and death talk to yourself!" Hee! You kind of had to be there.

I went on a 2 hour walk last night. No kbs since I've been back, yet. It's hard to get back into a routine after vacation. That's all I got. Time to get off my ass....

Workout post, inspired by Amy, sort of

Small swing set, only 400. I plan on a long walk tonight, and since I didn't get swinging until late, I didn't want to wear myself out before my walk. Anyway, mostly single transfers, alternating between the 8kg and 12kg, but I did manage one set (a minute) of two handed swings with the 16kg! I haven't touched that one in awhile, and I typically would only do sets of maybe 10 at a time. So, 40 in a row is a lot, for me! It was burning for sure! 

Off for my walk.

Where I go AAAAUUUURRRRGHHHHHH

Oh. My. GAH.

My Dad's sister (who we have been estranged from for about 25 years until recently) was also diagnosed with lung cancer - did I mention that on this blog? I can't recall what I've written here, and what I've written at the Caringbridge site - anyway, she's essentially a stranger to me, and Dad's entire family has been a whole bag of neurotic craziness forfuckingever, but I have been trying to have some semblance of a relationship with her, just to be nice. Besides, she has in stage renal failure and leukemia, on top of now lung cancer. Okay, so I decide to be nice and thoughtful, and post about her on Dad's site, thinking it to be very generous and well-meaning. She fucking calls my Dad and yells at him and says she's 'private' and doesn't want anyone to know any of her personal info. THIS from the woman that called me so many times while dad was in the hospital that I nearly lost my voice. Oh, and she proceeded to try to 'one up' Dad on whose sicker... huh? Why would you want to win that contest? But it's apparently a big thing for her, her health issues have always been an attention getter for her. She also kept telling me that Dad 'seems fine' and poo-pooing any concerns I have had. You know what? As much as I try to be optimistic, the fact remains that my Dad has metastasized Stage IV cancer! For the love of god, fuck off!!

That's really all that's going on. Sore as hell from KBs yesterday. I think it was the snatches that killed me. I'll walk tonight when it gets dark. Henry has soccer practice. 

That's all I got....

Another quickie...

One hour walk last night, at a fast clip (about 4 miles?) KB workout today, with Bryan, which slowed me down a bit. It was a mish-mosh of a workout, with sets of swings, snatches, farmer's walks, C&P, windmills, and lots of starting and stopping to correct his form (it's been awhile since he's swung consistently.) So, my total reps were 500. It's really hard for me to swing with anyone, I think it's because I 'get in the zone' and don't like to be distracted. But if I want to get certified, I'd better get used to it. I think next time, I'll have a routine planned out ahead of time, to cut back on the false starts. I placed an order for a second 8kg, my Mother's Day gift! I'm looking forward to double swings, double cleans, double snatches, it'll be fun!

Not much else. Tyler started his growth hormone shots, and he administers them himself, and he's doing awesome! It doesn't seem to faze him at all. School is almost out, just a few more weeks, which is hard to believe. The year has gone so quickly. Summer will be here soon, and we'll have our lazy days at the pool. I really hope Dad is well this summer. I hope he's still alive for my birthday (July 27th) and Addie's (August 6th). I know I will have many holidays and birthdays without him, and I can accept that, but I want at least one more of each. 

Oh, and we went to the Highland's parent's Cinco De Mayo party Saturday... holy shit, those parents know how to party! It was a rocking good time, and it was nice to get my mind off cancer for an evening.

That's all here......