I have not been training well for the 50k. Between the heat and starting a new job, it’s been hard to maintain a schedule. Not to mention that I just get tired. A good workout sometimes means I can’t do much else the rest of the day. Alternatively, a busy day at work can leave me too glitchy to feel safe working out. Any routine has to allow room for my symptoms.

It’s not all bad, though. I can run 10 miles reliably enough, and I’m having less trouble with reflux. Also, a change in medication has improved my symptom management. Yes, they still show up (Saturday I cut my run short because of double-vision) but, I’ve really been testing the limits lately. I’m actually impressed with how little they’ve interfered.

I want to do these next few weeks well. On a practical level, I want to plan better lunches so that I can do a simple workout when I get home. Needing a snack slows my momentum and I end up just lounging until I go to bed. I don’t need to do anything fancy, but I want to do something daily. Friday or Saturday can be my long day.

I want this experience to improve my relationship with my body. Not so much in an “overcoming limitations” kind of way, but more in accepting what I can and cannot do. I want to be comfortably present within my body. I want to move on from the disappointment I’ve been feeling since I got sick. I’m not sure how this race will help with this, but it appears to be the way forward.

I have no expectations of awesomeness. I hope to finish in under 8 hours, but under 10 will be great if reflux and other issues make an appearance. Finishing is the goal, and I know I can do that.

I love running and will keep running, but I haven’t enjoyed the pressure of the looming deadline. I’m glad I’m doing this but I’ve learned I want a more relaxed relationship with running.

Truthfully, what I really want is a more relaxed relationship with myself.

 I’m not good at wanting things.

Back when I was applying for colleges, my main criteria was “not in New England.” So, I went to college in St. Louis. Ironically, my school was basically the Midwest version of the posh schools I most wanted to avoid. When picking a major, I wanted to study biology, but I also didn’t want to write a lot of papers. To avoid that, I minored in electrical engineering, which allowed me to replace liberal arts with heavy math. Since you are reading this blog, you can see that my interests have shifted since then.

Later, I didn’t want to become a classroom teacher; that felt like a box.
I didn’t want anything to do with middle school; that age sucks!
I didn’t want to teach in an urban district; I didn’t feel confident.

I invested a lot of energy avoiding those things only to become a classroom teacher in an urban middle school, and love it.

I can’t say I entirely regret any of the above decisions because I like where I ended up and many of the people who came into my life as a result. However, it is fair to say that I don’t always know what’s best for me.

My habit of avoiding things I don’t want extends into less concrete areas of my life. I don’t want to be a bother. I don’t want to hurt others. I don’t want others to hurt me. I don’t want to be too much. I don’t want to do too little. I don’t want to be late. I don’t want to make others rush. I don’t want make mistakes. I don’t want to miss out. I don’t want to butt in. I don’t want to be the center of attention. I don’t want to be overlooked.

Don’t want, don’t want, don’t want...

All of those objectives, yet when people ask me what I do want, what I do like, my response is usually, “ummm…”

This isn’t to say that I never want things. I wanted to be a biology major. I wanted to teach science. I want undisturbed sleep. It’s more that my life has been shaped more by me avoiding things I don’t want than it has been by me going after the things I do want.

I’m only just beginning to understand this part of myself, but I know that this tendency is rooted in fear and self-protection. I can recall distinct moments in 4th and 5th grade when I made certain choices I didn’t want to be teased. I didn’t choose what I liked, I chose what was most acceptable to my peers.

I could dwell quite awhile on the many ways and means my avoidance habit has played out, but I want to focus on the future. This past week has made me realize how much I need to shift my thinking.

The other day I learned an opportunity I was optimistic about wasn’t going to go the way I’d hoped. I’m not going to go into the particulars, but I entered the situation wanting to avoid old habits and pitfalls that have caused problems in the past. I think I did this. Looking back, I can’t think of any moments that have me cringing, “ugh, not again!”

Yet things didn’t work out. Even though I avoided everything I set out to avoid, things still didn’t work out. For very good and valid reasons that I fully support, and yet...

I’ve experienced a lot of conflicting emotions the past few days, and they can best be summarized as this: successfully avoiding past mistakes and still getting the same result sucks eggs. It’s incredibly painful. Heartbreaking even.

This is where the shift in thinking comes in. It wasn’t the same result. On the surface it is, but deeper down, there's important differences. I can see where I’ve grown. I can see where I took more risks. That’s a really big deal. And the opportunity itself isn’t ruined. It’s just...different. A larger bucket of possibilities, one could say.

So, moving forward, I want to focus on what I want. Even when I don’t know what I want. I want to value myself and others. I want to be honest. I want to be kind. I want to take risks. I want to speak up. I want to be quiet. I want to face fears. I want to hang in there. I want to feel my feelings. I want the people I care about to know that I care about them. I want to be brave. I want to be seen.

​

The past few weeks have been really good. I’ve finished one week of training at my new job and I’m liking the atmosphere. It’s refreshing to be in a setting where the majority accepts the reality of the circumstances. This past Friday I was feeling confident and optimistic about many things.

Over the weekend, however, my confidence eroded. It started small when, Friday evening, I learned that I’d made a typo in the recipient’s email when requesting my college transcripts. Hopefully the registrar will be understanding, but this may mean that I threw money away on my first request and will have to pay for a second.

I made the same typo when asking for reference letters, so I had to ask my former bosses to resend. This was not the worst mistake, but it’s the kind that has me wondering how I’m doing. Am I really healthy enough to go back to teaching? Will I be able to function or will this type of clumsy mistake happen more frequently?

Adding to this, someone I talk to regularly was busy and having a bit of a rough time, so I didn’t hear from them as much. This is perfectly understandable. I don’t expect anyone to talk to me all the time, especially when going through things. At the same time, I don’t know what to do with prolonged silence. Do I reach out? Do I stay quiet and allow space? I don’t want to bother anyone, nor do I want to neglect them.

This dilemma really hit home today (Sunday). I’d assumed there’d be time to talk and get sorted. Instead, other plans were made, another person needed a favor and that was where their day went. Left brain understands that’s just how things happen sometimes. Right brain...right brain is mocking me for, yet again, giving a person space only for someone else to fill it.

This will all get worked out. I’ve taken steps to have the needed conversations. I’m sad that my insecurities are rising up, and also proud of myself for not avoiding them. I can see how I’ve grown. Maybe that’s why these doubts keep being so nasty lately. They’re mad my broken places are healing.

I feel blue today. September, so far, is loaded with change. At CFV, things for are slowly picking up again after being on pause since the theatre camp. Next week I start training for a new part-time job that seems like it’ll be a good fit in and of itself, as well as being compatible with CFV. I’m looking forward to having a regular schedule and steadier income. Outside of work, I’m finally developing the beginnings of a social life, having met a few people who are interested and interesting.

All of these are good things, welcome things. I’m excited and want all of them to happen and to go well.

I think that’s why I’m blue. I want to be open to all the possibilities, and those possibilities include failure. There’s a risk with everything, and these risks are bringing up the old, persistent voices that mock me for even trying.

My most tangible fear it that I’ll become too tired to handle everything. Being tired is inevitable. As much as I’ve learned about managing my neuro symptoms, fatigue and stress still have the power to wreck me. At certain angles, adding all these things to my life seems like a recipe for disaster. Especially when I remember that I have a 50k in eight and a half weeks...

In the past, historically and habitually, I’d handle these transitional seasons by choosing one thing at a time to focus on. Usually this would be work. Relationships could be sorted out later. Unfortunately, more often than not, my choices kept would-be friends at a distance, holding them off until I could get myself together. Some of my biggest regrets are tied to the way I have underestimated several amazing people by chosing to isolate myself, denying them the chance to be there for me.

I feel untethered. As much as I like the idea of being anchored, I'm also afraid of tying myself too tightly to the wrong thing and become stuck. This in-between space is uncomfortable and confusing and, at the same time, too important to rush.

It makes sense that my insecurities are bubbling up. If I cared less about the outcomes, the doubts wouldn’t be so noisy.  

I’d still like to do one thing at a time, though. Finish training for the race. Get settled into the job. Establish friendships.

Writing it out, I can see the ridiculousness of having these things on a step-by-step checklist. They can all happen at the same time. Arguably, simultaneously may be the best way to go.
​
Sigh...breaking old habits is hard...

 If someone describes themselves as honest, are they telling the truth?

My gut reaction says, “um, no.” Whenever I hear someone boast about their straight-shooting honest, I immediately suspect they are trying to sell me on something. With an unfortunate level of frequency, my suspicion is correct.

In other words, I find it easier to trust someone who is less-than confident about their honesty. The most honest people I know wouldn’t describe themselves as honest, mostly because they are honest enough to be mindful of the times they aren’t completely genuine.

The same goes for a whole slew of other character traits. Truly talented people are aware of their gaps. Really intelligent people don’t need to talk about being smart all the time. Same goes with folks claiming insight, discernment, and intuitiveness.

I think most people who advertise their character traits like this are insecure, trying to project their desired personality instead of their authentic self. They are arguably uncomfortable with themselves. I try not to judge but I totally judge. At least certain people; the ones who bulldoze others with their toxic positivity and flowery, self-promoting language.

People are messy and that’s okay. I understand why someone would want to hide their flaws - I know I try to! – but I don’t understand why so many people prefer the image of perfection and integrity. Real people are so much more interesting. Including the people wearing the masks.

 I am not very good at promoting myself. Not an attention-seeker in general, I find it challenging to “sell” my skills and abilities to others. It’s not about lack of confidence (although, honestly, sometimes that is a factor), it’s more that I have no desire to charm or woo people into giving me a chance.

I’ve been looking for a 2nd job, and a lot of that is coming up with the best language to display my skills and experience. As with past job searches, I get more responses from actual humans as opposed to the bots that screen for key words. I don’t do buzzwords well. I get that it’s part of the job-search game, but sometimes relying on catch phrases feels like downplaying my actual experience.

For example, many “resume tips for teachers” include direct references to classroom management. On my resume, I don’t mention classroom management. Instead I talk about the variety of labs and learning experiences I carried out, the diversity of my students, and collaboration with colleagues and parents. None of that could happen without solid management skills. Since any reasonable human connect to education understands that, it feels like a waste of space to add another line.

Maybe I’m being a snob, but I don’t really want to work someplace that requires me to prove basic knowledge while ignoring my more advanced understanding.

Continued thoughts on Experience Deniers

I think one of the few things people agree upon these days is that our educational system is full of flaws. However, the opinions on how to fix it are too numerous to count. Everyone has experience attending school, therefore, they have the experience necessary to know how a school should work, right?

Wrong. 

​There is a lot that happens within a school that students and parents are unable to see. The same is true for any organization. Eating at a restaurant every day is very different that managing one. Until you are on the inside, a lot of systems and nuance are hidden. A lot judgements and complaints are a result of not understanding this.

​One memorable night, about nine or ten years ago, I witnessed this judgement in action. I was hanging out with a group of people I met with regularly. It is important to note that everyone in this group was highly educated. Lots of advanced degrees, mostly in the medical field. They are also strong advocates for education and addressing disparities.

That evening I told a story about my students and mentioned, Shrimpy, the 2 meter tall alien crustacean my students would occasionally explain earthly concepts to. I don't remember what story I was trying to tell, but I do know Shrimpy was incidental context. However, most of the group became fixated upon Shrimpy in a what-the-hell kind of way. They thought having seventh graders write letters to an alien was ridiculous and stupid. 

I was surprised at their intense reaction. Fanciful things like Shrimpy were a normal part of my day. Another member of the group, a man who taught fifth grade, agreed with me. When kids' imaginations are engaged, you go with it. They'll put a lot more effort into explaining a tricky concept to a fictitious alien than they will for a generic "support your answer."

Despite the support of my fellow educator, the majority of the group couldn't get past it. One person in particular was especially derisive as she kept repeating, "I just don't get it."

And they were absolutely right, they didn't get it. Despite the countless hours they'd spent in school, the had no concept of what it's like trying to capture the attention of a classroom full of students. As a result, something that was simple and commonplace for me as a teacher was ridiculed.

This incident in and of itself was minor. At the same time, it highlights a larger issue. They fell into the trap of I-don't-understand-this-therefore-it-must-be-wrong. Even when two educators explained that this seemingly silly method was common and useful, they couldn't let go of their initial indignation.

So, yeah, they didn't get it. And that's okay. It's not possible to understand all the nuances of a position you've never held. The problem was that they deemed Shrimpy as stupid and refused to consider the usefulness. Being well-schooled themselves, they assumed they knew everything that a learning environment involved. Their memories of school trumped my reality.

Ironically, Shrimpy was born while trying to address the exact same refusal-to-learn attitude in my science students.