Adrenaline junkie…who me?

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Several years ago a colleague in academia commented to me that procrastinators are adrenaline junkies, and I think about that idea every single freakin’ time I am writing or working on something, especially if it has a deadline.  It can be a paper, an article, rehearsing a show, marking student assignments, pizza lunch forms for the kids, whatever… I would say 98% of the time I come right down to the wire with it… almost every single freakin’ time I have anything to complete… right down to the wire. Am I really getting that much of a “rush” of adrenaline? Am I getting off on it, or is there something more going on?

According to Adam Grant’s January 2016 New York Times article “Why I Taught Myself To Procrastinate” while “procrastination is a vice for productivity”…it is also “a virtue for creativity”.   Grant’s research contends that our first ideas are usually our most conventional and by procrastinating we can let our mind wander thereby opening ourselves up to newer and more unexpected ideas and patterns. I gather that what he is suggesting is not that we should simply leave tasks completely untouched until the last minute but rather, start something and then leave it- let it simmer, come back with fresh eyes, ears and ideas. Grant lists several prolific procrastinators for whom leaving things last minute worked out very well for them, Steve Jobs, Aaron Sorkin, Bill Clinton, and Frank Lloyd Wright…my name is not on the list.

I can certainly buy the creativity angle, giving ideas time to percolate, allowing one’s self to feel a sense of spaciousness,  but I am not quite there yet. My procrastinating ways tend to lead  me into more dread and panic rather than whimsical creative wanderings, but, I am definitely curious to test out these theories.  Perhaps I will start with the pizza lunch forms…fill in my sons name, then my daughters, allow myself time to contemplate on whether to order two slices and the juice box option or three slices with desert, lose myself in thought over whether to pay by cash…or cheque, fully feel the impulse to include my signature before racing to the school to beg the secretary to accept my late forms so I don’t have to make lunch on Tuesday.

Cha-Cha-Cha

cha-cha

There was one of those Facebook posts going around not too long ago that said something like this; “Optimist: Someone who figures that taking a step backward after taking a step forward is not a disaster, it’s a cha-cha.” (I later found out the quote is attributed to author Robert Brault) And at the time I took it in with a grain of salt as I do any words of wisdom imparted on social media- but I reminded myself of those words last week as I lay in a crumpled heap on the floor of my yoga class, whispering to the teacher “I’m OK!” after hearing something go “pop” in the general area of my left hip and bullock and my leg just kind of giving out. I lay there trying to get myself together with tears of self pity running down my face- not so much for the pain but because I was immediately mad for this happening and at myself for having the thought “Man, I am on an exercise toll!” just before the class started.
I basically spent the last week feeling poopy. Limping, when I tried to walk but in more pain when I was sitting to long. So really, pretty useless.
I have been feeling frustrated, bummed out, irritated and restless, and none of it has felt like a cha-cha.
Things began to change when I read this story a
bout Harriet Thompson, the 92 year old American woman who just ran her sixteenth marathon and broke the world’s record for being the oldest woman to do so. I am a bit obsessed with stories about awesome old women, I am constantly on the look out for stories like Harriette’s and I find myself studying them in the hopes of being able to figure out what their secrets are for being so fabulous for so long! The thing that pretty much rings true with all the women I have read about is an optimistic outlook, that and perseverance. And with that revelation I cued the band to play a cha-cha and lead myself to the dance floor.
I finally went to see an osteopath today (for the first time) and I am feeling considerably better already. I won’t be running today, and maybe not even tomorrow, but I am pretty determined to be running when I am 92.

Build Me Up Break Me Down

I’ve realized I spend an awful lot of my time trying to form habits… the good ones, the productive and creative ones. Whether it is with my running, my health, finances, or my academics, I would say I am a bit obsessed with habits, and rituals. In my first year of my PhD I read countless books on the subject as I struggled to figure out what the hell I was doing and just how the hell I was going to get it done. Some of my favourite books on the subject included Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey, which gave insights into the daily lives and habits of very famous writers and artists from Freud to Stravinsky to Woody Allen and The Creative Habit, Learn It and Use It For Life, by Twyla Tharp, in which this remarkable woman and artist walks you through thirty-two exercises she has developed to be your most creative and productive self.

I have muddled about with setting my own rituals and habits in order to get more done, and have been, I think somewhat successful in finding a way to create a series of rituals that have made me feel more grounded, less frazzled and more ready to take on the work I have to do. In the last six months or so, I have been absolutely stringent in my rituals, even on weekends and holidays, and it looks something like this; I wake up at 4 am (I don’t use an alarm clock but just tell myself I want to wake up at a certain hour and it somehow works), I go into my office and do 20 minutes of yoga, 10 minutes of sitting meditation, sit down and write an intension for the day in my agenda and make a list of what I have to do that day. This is basically where the ritual ends…However, another ritual begins at around 5 am where in I go put the coffee on for and me and my old man sit and we sit have 2 coffees together before all hell breaks loose with kids and breakfast and making lunches and getting people out the door. We have been sitting and coffee together every weekday our entire married life (23+ years!) and it is definitely a ritual I cherish. But! back to MY newly developed ritual… I have been feeling quite good about it, it has helped me feel, as I said less frazzled and more settled, because after everyone has gotten out the door and it is time for me to sit down to work, I feel like I have already prepped myself and I can just get on with it. But I have to admit, although it felt really great to be so devoted to these ritual, it truly had become a habit in that, I found it really hard NOT do these things each morning. I would get anxious if I knew I had to be up late the night because I didn’t want to sleep in a miss my ritual time (I found it hard to be flexible with this time given that there are so many people in our house and so much of the ritual was wrapped up the delicious silence of the early morning) I would feel annoyed if someone got up early and I could hear them mooring around the house, and I became anxious about making sure that I carried on my ritual even when travelling, like I am now.
So I have tried a little experiment the last 3 days. I stepped away from my rituals. I wasn’t getting up at 4 am here in the UK, but my first almost week here I still woke and immediately unrolled my yoga mat, did my yoga, meditated, wrote out my intension and then put on the coffee. But something was nagging me to just step back, and it mostly had to do with me convincing myself that I have time. I have SO much time here and I am so not used to NOT having to scrounge out time for myself. Waking up at 4 am when I am at home is pretty much my only hope for finding that precious bit of space for myself, and I realized that that rhythm is so ingrained in me that even when I am travelling by myself I still feel that pull of having to hurry through my day, the clock is ticking and if I don’t take time for myself now, it will be gone.
So this is a bit of an experiment in making space for myself and working against the grain of the hurried life I normally live. The last few days here I have gotten up when I want because meetings etc. don’t start until midmorning. I sit quietly and have my coffee, or turn on a British real estate show, and than get up and start working when I feel ready. This scared me a bit at first because I was convinced that I would never “feel ready” and just “faff” my day away. “Faff” coincidently is a British word I just learned yesterday that means “to muck about, wasting time doing something not necessary”.
So here I am, 9:25 am, still in my pyjamas and faffing away on my blog.
A new faffing ritual perhaps?forget free time

Shut Up and Run

I finally got out for a run. I have been here, in Birmingham UK (3000+ miles from home) for 5 days now and after a whole lot of pep- talking (me to myself) I did it and it was glorious. I had been thinking about getting out there A LOT- but was having all the regular anxiety I often have in new situations, and have been talking myself out of it. You would think that at my age (48) and with the kind of experience I have in travelling (7 trips to Europe alone in the last 2 years) I would be pretty laissez faire when it comes to making myself at home in a new city and surroundings- but in fact, I have an awful time with really settling in. Part of it is the loneliness/homesickness/nostalgia that I wrote about yesterday and part of it, I think, is just my totally awkward social nature. Yes, me, who as a teacher, performer, and Mother of six has to deal with other humans almost constantly, actually  has a medium to high level of anxiety of dealing with other people and in particular strangers. But even more importantly, I hate looking like I don’t belong somewhere. This is why I love David Sedaris so much because he says so many things, about feeling awkward, especially in foreign cities, that I feel. He did a great interview NPR’s This American Life on his experiences in Paris that I relate to so well.

So! In the case of me procrastinating going out for a run, it was really nothing to do with me just being lazy and everything to do with feeling discombobulated in a new city, For example, because I am staying right in the city centre, I was nervous about running aimlessly through the busy streets and having to worry about traffic (I CANNOT get used to the whole cars on the wrong side of the road here and literally have to speak out loud to myself every time I cross the road saying “look the opposite way!”). So I did what any good PhD student would do and I researched it. I studied maps and then went for a test “walk” yesterday.

And this morning I went for it and headed out. (I carefully chose this morning as it is a bank holiday here and hardly any traffic). And it was, as I said glorious. In less than 10 minutes I was on the Birmingham Canals. And it was absolutely gorgeous in all the  most cliché ways. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping and after I finished chastising myself for being so utterly ridiculous in buying into my silly anxieties,  I plodded along in the most satisfied way.

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Homesickness…Nostalgia…

One of the hardest things about doing this PhD and all the travelling that comes with it, is the constant transitions. I would say jet lag plays a huge part but even more than that is getting used to the two hugely different “lifestyles” that I have to step into as I jet back and forth from the UK to home. Being a Mother to six and coordinating getting my work done amongst all the chaos at home and then stepping into living solo for weeks at a time has been harder than I expected. You would think that it would be so easy and having all this time and space when I am away would make things oh so much easier but in fact I find it hard. Hard to focus sometimes, hard to sleep, hard to get motivated. It’s frustrating, as I find myself having to fight against wanting to just mope around. It’s actually more than just “wanting” and I am truly beginning to understand that homesickness is in fact a “real” illness, as described in this article, and while I am maybe only suffering from one of these symptoms (trouble sleeping)”fever, lesions, trouble sleeping, heart palpitations, emaciation, organ failure, incontinence, and dysentery” Let’s hope it doesn’t come to heart failure or dysentery! It is somewhat comforting to know that I am not a big wuss- and that I can somehow try to work towards acknowledging how difficult being away is instead of trying to ignore it and beat myself up for not being as productive as I could or should be.

I Fly Like Paper, Get High Like Planes…

I’m not sure why I feel compelled to start writing here again.
Well, I know where the “impulse” came from…
M.I.A’s Paper Planes. On my run today, it came on- blasting through my headphones. Yes, headphones. I used to be a purist and NEVER run with music, but now I need all the help I can get.
But when the first chords of the song pumped through my earbuds today I was instantly transported to the side of some weird back road out on the UBC Endowment Lands behind St. Georges- on one of my long (18 miles maybe?) runs… training for “the” marathon… how many years ago? 5? 6?
I wasn’t listening to any music at the time, but rather I repeated it out loud, as to distract myself from my almost overwhelming desire to stop running.

The song plods along;

I fly like paper, get high like planes
If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name
If you come around here, I make ’em all day
I get one down in a second if you wait…

Like how I “run” although I think plod is a better name for what I do.

I am “plodding” again.
I have, over the last few years tried to get back in a plodding groove.
It is hard here- the winter is reeeeeeeeeally long. And I tried, I can’t run in -20. I do a bit of treadmill. I have IT Band issues that won’t seem to go away. I have six children, a husband, a job and PhD in progress… all things that I constantly use as excuses as why I am not out there
But I think about running, er, plodding all the time.
I obsess over stories like this one; about old ladies running Boston.
So I am back at it. And M.I.A made it a little easier today.

Sometimes I think sitting on trains
Every stop I get to I’m clocking that game
Everyone’s a winner, we’re making our fame
Bona fide hustler making my name

They tried to make me go to Rehab…

I’m not running.
It just would be silly- I want to be running when I’m 80- so I have to get a handle on this injury now.
So no marathon, no 1/2 not even an 8K- I am lying low.
I tried Moksha yoga this week and loved it. I would say it was my most positive yoga experience so far. My plan is to go 2 times a week- I am trying to be realistic- making it to classes with everything I have on my plate is a challenge- 2 times a week- now that I’m not working and can go when 5 are at school and 1 is at daycare seems do-able. I will continue to “try out” my IT band going for very short (5K’s) runs if there is no pain. I will use my foam roller and I will do my physio prescribed exercises.
I will not get jealous when I see a woman walking down Cambie Street with her 2010 Vancouver Marathon blue race package bag… I have decided not to pick up my package. I don’t want to see my number and it just means trying to fit in a trip downtown to get it.
Rehab- it’ s all about the Rehab baby…
And as my good friend njb said, it’s supposed to rain Sunday.
Jealous? Who me?!

Not waving but drowning…

I really think I need a different hobby… This running thing is KILLING me, which is kind of strange since I have been running very little lately. I’ve been THINKING about running a great deal and driving myself insane…

I need to figure out this IT band thing, and I need to figure out a cross training activity that I can fall in love with and commit to. I feel drawn to yoga, I did a few classes of Mike Dennison’s Runners Yoga which I liked very much- but as with everything in my crazy life, so much of it has to do with fitting it in to my (or the kids) crazy schedule.  I know a regular yoga practice would probably do wonders for my aches and pains, it’s just a matter of doing it- I am setting my sights on next week. Next week everything will change.

I was quite excited about this week- it was the first week since my work term had ended and I had BIG plans, that included running, yoga classes and working on my Grad school application… but then sick kids and school professional days happened and I have got NOTHING done.

I need to regroup, refocus and face the truth. I will not be able to run the half next week. there is an 8k race I will have to do that. I just bought myself a very expensive race t-shirt. boo.

My IT band is sore all the time, not just when I run. I have pins and needles running down my leg constantly. Not good. I want to fix it. I want to run another marathon.

I miss running- I really don’t feel “right” when I’m not running on a regular basis- I’ve got to get back there somehow.

must get it together

It has been awhile but I am still here… up until this week I have been doing the bare minimum running wise- usually bettween 3-4 runs a week- this past week I have not run once…
boohoo.
My IT band has been SO tight- not actually hurting but feeling like it is going to snap- so I decided to lay off running-AND I slightly twisted my ankle (walking down the street!!!) and that is feeling stiff AND on top of that I probably only could have squeezed one run in anyway as I am in my final week at work and things have been kookoo. And then there are the 6 kids to tend to.
I am to run a 1/2 at The BMO in a couple of weeks- fingers crossed. And I have received a challenge from my neighbour and veteran marathoner to run the Royal Victoria October 10 and that gets me feeling a little pumped.
I got it all going on in my head- now if I could just get my body and the rest of my life to cooperate!