I am not the victim of the world I see.............................

The Course in Miracles is a system set up with a daily lesson for each day of the year. After December 31 you start over with lesson one. Last year I did a poor to fair job of keeping up with the daily lessons. It is a desire to do a better job this year.

Today's lesson is the title of this post, I am not the victim of the world I see. When I was reading it it called to mind the pouting, temper tantrums that I have been having over the past two days.

I have been TOTALLY feeling victimized by the snow (of all things).

I actually looked out the window yesterday morning, stomped my foot, and wailed. For the last two days I refused to shovel the driveway (the OCDer in me still had to do the walk and the area of the drive into the house). My childish excuse: "There is no where to put the snow anymore. It can just sit there until it melts." Like I was going to hurt its feelings, or punish it somehow by letting it set there!

Thursday I went for my scheduled 8 mile run. It was somewhere around 8 degrees, the roads were snow covered and it was windy. About an hour into the run my leg muscles started to ache. Not from the run, but from the cold. They could not get warmed up enough to work properly. Did I take responsibility for being crazy for running in low temperatures? Nope. I blamed it on mother nature. Doesn't she know that I have already signed up for the marathon and bought the non-refundable tickets to fly to Tampa in a month? How can she get in my way by having winter this week? Don't I play the victim quite well?

So today, I have a 16 mile run planned. I have wised up that most of it needs to be inside because I really will be screwed if I pull something because my muscles can't warm up in the cold. Currently the temp is -4 with the wind chill. They are thinking it might get to 28 by 4 this afternoon which would be plenty warm to run outside, but if I wait until them I will be running in the dark by the time I complete the full 16. The plan is to try and sneak into the school track to do the biggest share, do a short portion outside, and finish up on the dreaded treadmill.

Hopefully, as I practice today's lesson, "I am not the victim of the world I see" I will be able to complete the run with some dignity, and gratitude, and turn it into an adventure rather than simply another reason to bitch about how bad I have things.

Race update.......................

I don't have much time but I am sure you are all holding your breath waiting for the results of my winter run so here it is.

In a (three words) IT WAS FABULOUS!

As we were getting ready to start the race director said the course this year was "treacherous" and his recommendation was if anyone was doubtful about finishing it they sit it out this year and stay and have a beer instead. I thought to myself, "since you don't drink beer you might as well give it a shot" so out the door we went.

It snowed the entire time and was totally and completely pitch black except for the small area my headlight lite up. About twenty minutes into the run I had fallen into last place and was having a good time slip sliding down the road. And then I hit the trail... They had said it was knee deep in parts, but for a shorty like me it was more like mid-thigh deep. No way could I perform my pseudo running so I relaxed and walked through those parts.

Needless to say in these conditions one tired out rather quickly. I began to explore the notion of not finishing the fifteen miles. But you know what? Try as I may I could not talk myself into giving up. The guys following me ask once and I told them I just wanted to know how much farther. One nice fellow must have been psychic because he said "about two miles." In my mind, anyone can run two miles so that was all I needed to keep going (I think at the time it was more like three but he "knew" what I needed to hear).

So I kept going, the guys kept checking on me, and I victoriously crossed the finish line at 4:53:10.

Afterwards, the race director commented on the fact that anyone that finished that race could consider they had ran a marathon. So that is what we are going to do on March first, in Tampa. Not sure what the weather will be there, but I doubt they will have as much snow.

I have been training again. Next weekend we (my youngest and I) are planning to do a 15 mile trail race that begins at six in the evening. Last year it was about eight degrees out when the race started. If the fifteen miles go well we are going to do the full 26.2 in Tampa (where it will be MUCH warmer than eight degrees I hope) on March first.

Today there are plans for an eleven mile run. I am very grateful that we only got a few inches of snow rather than the massive amounts predicted. Now if the wind cooperates it will be a good time.

I mention the running because some of my best ever ideas form into consciousness during my long runs. It is either that what they say about exercise endorphins is correct, or simply that besides sleeping, my runs are the only times when someone isn't interrupting my thoughts every few minutes needing something from me.

But anyway, a day or so ago, around mile four or five, the question came into my mind as to whether or not I was happily married. As I pondered this notion I decided that no I was not happily married. I was much more than that. (Had you scared for a minute didn't I?)

I am not happily married because I determined years ago (and discussed the fact) that my partner was not responsible for my happiness. That was my job. And I have reached a place of personal happiness even when things are not necessarily running smoothly. Happiness is a choice of how I perceive events as they pass through my life. It really is that simple.

Back to my marriage... Out there on the cold snow covered roads I decided that I was contentedly married. A few posts ago on her blog Maria had a question about dating services on the web, and in that context wrote:

And while I will never use it, being happily married and all that (well, lately...okay..we have been treading water, but the vibe will return, it always does)...

That sums up perfectly my idea of being contentedly married. Are there days when I want to strangle/stab/suffocate (and that is just the S words that came to mind) (my) Mister? Sometimes it seems like weeks on end that the man irritates the _____ out of me. We could communicate (W-A-Y) better about certain things. I would give most anything if he listened to what I was saying rather than what I was saying (and you guys out there don't worry; I know that that last sentence won't make any sense to you). But even on our worst days together I have no thoughts of wanting to be in a different relationship. To a great degree this goes back to the notion that my happiness is not my partners responsibility. As I ride the wave of emotions that are part of any relationship I am in charge of how I view things. Maybe it was (my) Mister that didn't do something I ask him to do, but it is up to me to decide if it means the sky is falling or the world is ending. If I determine it is then it becomes my responsibility to fix and or change my perception of the problem and move forward in the relationship.

That sounds pretty great on paper. I guess we will just have to wait and see how I do the next time (my) Mister commits an infraction. Wish me luck!

My tragic first love.........................

Maria suggest it would get all of our creative juices flowing to share stories of our first love(s). Not sure how creative the old story will be re-hashed. Some of you might already know the tales about to be shared, and others of you might just get a kick of out reading about it and/or possibly (what I am truly hoping for) be jolted back into a memory or two of your own. That is what Maria did for me and why I decided to share with you all. Thanks Maria!

The story of my first love goes all the way back to 1974, when I was a junior in high school. Like many kids today, our "going out" really amounted to us walking the halls, holding hands between classes. We had one group date, a treasure hunt, and he took me to my junior prom. What an innocent, bliss filled night I remember that to be.

A week or so before school got out for the year I was allowed (No, allowed is no where near a Strong enough word for use with the authority figures I lived with) to go out to the movies with him. Arriving back to my driveway a few minutes before curfew we spent the time doing some exploring kissing (no lower than the neck) and I went in for the night. I might not be today, but back then I was a true innocent. When I went inside I was "inspected" apparently, because my brother-in-law (the father figure in my life at the time) noted that one of my buttons on the back of my blouse was unbuttoned and I had a hickey on my neck that was so small that one either needed to be looking for one or use a magnifying glass to discover it. That man was liable to do both if need be. Having mashed passionately enough to give and receive hickeys since that night I know it was a fluke as barely any suction occurred during our few minutes of making out.

Long story short I was grounded until the end of the school year, and when I went back to school in the fall my first love was dating another girl. By Christmas vacation senior year they were pregnant and he and I never talked about our brief relationship, or the connection that was established between us.

Fast forward to our five year class reunion. I went over to say hi and ask to see his kids pictures (He had three by this time. That's a lot of responsibility). As he showed me the snap shot he remarked, "They were suppose to be yours you know?" Even if one happens to want to agree with him, what does a girl say to that kind of thing? I honestly can't remember if I said anything at all. I know I was flattered, and I also knew that there was stuff that we still needed to hash over. A few minutes later I went back to my friends and went home that evening with my husband and conceived my second child.

Ten year class reunion this time. I had grown up enough that I decided it was time to put an ending to our relationship. I was also divorced. Did I want the guy back, now that I was single? Not a chance. I just wanted to put some kind of closure on what we did share because, at the time, that was the way I functioned. Control was really important to me and unfinished business (even perceived unfinished business) got in the way of that control.

I will admit that I looked pretty darn hot that night. I had on this dress that had fringe all of the way down it (like a roaring twenties flapper dress) and EVERYONE was talking about it. Regardless of how I looked I behaved like a perfect lady. We shared one dance in which I ask him if we might get together sometime and talk about the ending of our relationship. He had had a little to drink and told me that he didn't trust himself to be alone with me. I told him that was ridiculous I trusted me enough for the both of us. He then shared that he had had an affair and refused to put himself in that situation again. Since he continued to have feelings for me he would be tempted. Enough said. The song ended, he went outside and I never saw him again.

He didn't attend our fifteen year class reunion and for some reason I have been dropped from the guest list ever since then.

All these years later, I know that the very fact that we have led separate lives is plenty of closure. I no longer feel the need to talk things over with him. He was important, I wish him well, and occasionally pray that he is at peace and happy.

Still, if he called he up and invited me to have coffee I'd do it in a heart beat.

Difference is now, I am not holding my breath at the thought.

I consider that progress.