Eight and a half months ago, I found myself wearing slacks, a blazer and office-appropriate footwear and entering a building built to accommodate 950 workers, 98% of whom have direct access to natural light. The building is LEED Gold certified; there are a lot of windows. Eight and a half months ago, I took a calculated risk and accepted a position at a company that sounded cool; it seemed like this company made a legitimate difference in the lives of others. The position - an internship - came with no guarantee of full-time employment at the end of six months, and it paid less than what I made as a barista. (Side note: barista-ing was never supposed to be long-term for me. I reluctantly allowed it to turn into a medium-term thing that served as a band-aid for my somewhat directionless mid-twenties.) So, I quit barista-ing, spent two months skiing and looking for a job, took Anatomy & Physiology I, and was offered this intern gig. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and I knew very little about the company where I was about to begin my first sort of official 9-5 something or other.
And yet I took that leap and began a combined Communications/Corporate Social Responsibility internship with DaVita HealthCare Partners because thank Godness an employee on the Communications team thought I was worth their risk, experience be damned.
It is now three days before Thanksgiving, and this morning, we held a gratitude circle in my Monday morning homeroom meeting. Everyone sitting around the table expressed their gratitude for something in their world. "My health;" "my growing family;" "Colorado..." The energy in the room shifted. It changed from "Ugh, Monday morning meeting ugh," to something more positive, more reaffirming. What struck me the most was that all of the individuals in the room and on the phone said they were grateful they worked for this company, that they were a part of this team. I have never seen or been a part of such positivity in a work environment. I forgot to mention that this Gratitude Circle was actually a directive from our CEO, an instruction that every team around the country take some time during their Monday morning meeting this week to reflect on what they were grateful for in their lives. I told you this company sounded cool.
This year has been an absolute whirlwind of emotions and uncertainty and self-doubt and self-confidence and pretty much everything else that could happen short of popping out a baby. There's actually very little likelihood of that happening. But in all seriousness, as of November 10, eight months to the day of my walking into that beautiful, sunny, happy building as an intern, I am officially a full-time employee at DaVita. My position is incredible - I get to work with nonprofits across Denver and coordinate volunteer opportunities and design sponsorships and attend a huge variety of events that celebrate philanthropy in Denver and Colorado.
I am grateful. I am beyond grateful that I am still alive, still kicking and screaming and running and here to greet the Colorado mountains every single morning. That gratitude has been a part of me for a long time, and I know I will never lose it. But I am grateful, now, for this job and this opportunity to grow. I am shocked and awed that it has worked out like this - I work for a healthcare company while serving the nonprofit community in Denver. How freaking sweet is that?
The past eight years of my life have taken me down some crazy paths. It is not possible to predict where your choices will lead you or how certain decisions will shape your future paths and future self. I really have learned, though, that there is nothing more important than being grateful for at least something at any given point in time. Life's circumstances will necessarily change and shift and move in all sorts of unpredictable ways, but it is so important to recognize that there is always something to be grateful about.
I am grateful for life and for right now and for where I came from and wherever tomorrow takes me. How about you; what would you say in a gratitude circle, today?
Showing posts with label life-changes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life-changes. Show all posts
Monday, November 24, 2014
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
What limits?
Are you a cancer survivor? A trauma survivor? Have you gone through something in your life that has inherently changed who you are and how you view the world? Sadly, I know too many people who can say "Yes" to any of those questions. Yet the thing about (some) traumas, it is possible to come out on the other side and be thankful for the experience. It is possible to survive something that literally breaks you down until you can feel nothing, that strips away your essence and the person you had spent years assembling. It is possible to experience that and somehow, find a way to rebuild yourself. You won't be the same person you were before; I am nowhere near the person I was five years ago. If you are lucky, though, you might actually like this new person better.
When I was back in school and only receiving maintenance therapy, I spent months trying to deny the fact that I had cancer, that I was no longer just like every other student on my college campus. I cracked multiple times in my attempts to act like nothing had ever happened to me. Finally and fortunately, I recognized that I was not taking care of myself and my lifestyle was not sustainable. I started seeing a psychologist who helped me work through some old issues and a lot of new issues brought on by the cancer. A "breakthrough," for me, came in the fall of 2008, right smack in the middle of my first battle with the facetumor. Basically, I had an assignment due for a class that I hadn't finished. Between barely being able to speak, not eating, and all the uncertainty surrounding whatever mass was growing in my sinuses, I was completely out of my league. My academics weren't quite suffering, but I was struggling just to get everything done. The deadline for this paper - I don't even remember what it was about - was growing ever-closer, and I had few ideas and fewer words on paper. There was a constant weight in my stomach and a pressure on my chest as my stress increased because I had to finish this thing! I didn't want to admit to my professor, much less myself, that I was sick and needed time to finish the stupid essay. And yet... I had spent the past few months working with a therapist, listening to her tell me that it is OK to accept that you are sick. It is OK to ask for help. People will understand, and you need to take care of yourself First.
This professor, this stalwart of the communications department, terrified me. Yet I knew I wasn't going to have the essay finished on time. So maybe a few days before the deadline, I visited him during office hours. I walked in and said, "Hey, do you by any chance have a minute?" I proceeded to tell him in as few words as possible that I had been in the hospital pretty much once a week for the past month and a half, and I was actually quite sick and basically, I am so sorry, but I hadn't finished his essay and there was pretty much no way I was going to have it in on time.
Of course. Of course, he was Completely Fine with it. He told me to "take as long as you need; don't worry about it; I hope you feel better soon!" And that was it. I thanked him profusely, probably saying too many times that this is highly unusual for me, and I really appreciate his understanding. I walked into the hall, up the stairs, out the door and promptly started crying. Pretty much hyperventilating. It was not a big deal to anyone but myself, but to me, it was a huge deal. I was taking care of myself first, and others were helping. Long story shortened: I did finish the essay. It wasn't my best work, but I got an A- on it... And I am certainly not asking any questions about that grade. My face tumor melted away; I graduated on time with my friends and a solid GPA. I came out on the other side of cancer-based college stronger for having gone through it and much more willing to take care of myself, to occasionally ask for help.
Life is funny, sometimes. You go through all these little experiences every day, and you have no idea if or how any of them will affect you. The big, life-changing events you can't know in the present tense how they will affect you down the road. That's for self-reflection and retrospection months and years later after you've hit the bottom and slowly, haltingly and painfully allowed yourself to regrow and discover who you are meant to be.
Long post, I know. Basically, I've been sick this past week, and it's lame, but I have worked hard not to overdo it. It is still a relatively new concept for me, that whole "take care of yourself" thing. People will understand, and the marathon is still 152 long days away. Allowing myself to fully heal, to embrace myself and drink as many liquids as possible, will only benefit me in the long run. Only good things can come from acknowledging your temporary limitations and working with them to come out stronger, healthier and ready to go. Thank you for reading and bearing with me. Happy Tuesday, sad toad. Life will necessarily get better, and if it's great, I hope it stays that way long enough for you to enjoy it. Here we go.
When I was back in school and only receiving maintenance therapy, I spent months trying to deny the fact that I had cancer, that I was no longer just like every other student on my college campus. I cracked multiple times in my attempts to act like nothing had ever happened to me. Finally and fortunately, I recognized that I was not taking care of myself and my lifestyle was not sustainable. I started seeing a psychologist who helped me work through some old issues and a lot of new issues brought on by the cancer. A "breakthrough," for me, came in the fall of 2008, right smack in the middle of my first battle with the facetumor. Basically, I had an assignment due for a class that I hadn't finished. Between barely being able to speak, not eating, and all the uncertainty surrounding whatever mass was growing in my sinuses, I was completely out of my league. My academics weren't quite suffering, but I was struggling just to get everything done. The deadline for this paper - I don't even remember what it was about - was growing ever-closer, and I had few ideas and fewer words on paper. There was a constant weight in my stomach and a pressure on my chest as my stress increased because I had to finish this thing! I didn't want to admit to my professor, much less myself, that I was sick and needed time to finish the stupid essay. And yet... I had spent the past few months working with a therapist, listening to her tell me that it is OK to accept that you are sick. It is OK to ask for help. People will understand, and you need to take care of yourself First.
This professor, this stalwart of the communications department, terrified me. Yet I knew I wasn't going to have the essay finished on time. So maybe a few days before the deadline, I visited him during office hours. I walked in and said, "Hey, do you by any chance have a minute?" I proceeded to tell him in as few words as possible that I had been in the hospital pretty much once a week for the past month and a half, and I was actually quite sick and basically, I am so sorry, but I hadn't finished his essay and there was pretty much no way I was going to have it in on time.
Of course. Of course, he was Completely Fine with it. He told me to "take as long as you need; don't worry about it; I hope you feel better soon!" And that was it. I thanked him profusely, probably saying too many times that this is highly unusual for me, and I really appreciate his understanding. I walked into the hall, up the stairs, out the door and promptly started crying. Pretty much hyperventilating. It was not a big deal to anyone but myself, but to me, it was a huge deal. I was taking care of myself first, and others were helping. Long story shortened: I did finish the essay. It wasn't my best work, but I got an A- on it... And I am certainly not asking any questions about that grade. My face tumor melted away; I graduated on time with my friends and a solid GPA. I came out on the other side of cancer-based college stronger for having gone through it and much more willing to take care of myself, to occasionally ask for help.
Life is funny, sometimes. You go through all these little experiences every day, and you have no idea if or how any of them will affect you. The big, life-changing events you can't know in the present tense how they will affect you down the road. That's for self-reflection and retrospection months and years later after you've hit the bottom and slowly, haltingly and painfully allowed yourself to regrow and discover who you are meant to be.
Long post, I know. Basically, I've been sick this past week, and it's lame, but I have worked hard not to overdo it. It is still a relatively new concept for me, that whole "take care of yourself" thing. People will understand, and the marathon is still 152 long days away. Allowing myself to fully heal, to embrace myself and drink as many liquids as possible, will only benefit me in the long run. Only good things can come from acknowledging your temporary limitations and working with them to come out stronger, healthier and ready to go. Thank you for reading and bearing with me. Happy Tuesday, sad toad. Life will necessarily get better, and if it's great, I hope it stays that way long enough for you to enjoy it. Here we go.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Whoops...
Guess I'll just skip April altogether and call it a day then. Here's the takeaway from the past five (plus) weeks: somehow and against all expectations, I ran and actually Finished the Around the Bay Road Race in Hamilton, Ontario, on March 27. It was a blistering 18 degrees at the start, but it was also completely sunny. Surrounded by nearly 7000 other runners, I barely felt the cold once I got moving. All told, I finished very near the end of the pack, but considering I (really) hadn't adequately trained, I did a lot better than I could have hoped. So, hooray! 18 miles, done and done.
Unfortunately, the following week, I developed an epic cold and have only run once since March 27th, a measly 2.5 miles. Even that was a struggle. One of the things I realized is that I can be sick and work, or I can be sick and run, but I cannot be sick and do both things. Income trumped cardio.
Raging sinus infection or no, life goes on, and I find myself, five weeks following my crazy Canadian race, living in Denver, Colorado. Wait, what?? Yes, yes, I moved to Denver. Four Days Ago. No car, which means I have been walking all over the place these past few days trying to find groceries, toilet paper, a lamp for my bedroom (still looking for that last one...). Two things are worth noting for context's sake: One is that I walked Everywhere when I went to school in Boston. I was a walking machine because it was easy and necessary to walk around Boston. The second thing is that once I moved back to Chicago following my graduation, I no longer had to walk, much less walk miles and miles at a time. Sure, I ran lots, but walking is definitely different. Living in the suburbs with nowhere to walk to, I became complacent and comfortable driving my parents' car if I needed to get somewhere. Four days ago, all of that changed. I was once more thrown into a situation where I don't have a car, and there are limited means of getting myself around. Some weird leg muscles are currently crazy sore, but walking it is!
Now, this blog is sort of supposedly about running. I haven't run much lately, hence the lack of writing about my running. What was I supposed to say, "Yep, another day where I couldn't really breathe, just sat around feeling guilty and eating."? No, because that's lame. Also, while the sinus infection was my main deterrent, I think I was also kind of burnt out after all the pressure I had been putting on myself about the 30K and not training enough for it. I just needed to chill out and not feel like I had to go outside in the rain/snow/greyness and train for some race.
But now I live in Denver... Now I live within sight of the Rocky Mountains and right beside one of the major trail systems that runs through and around the city. Now there is actual sunshine - already, my schnoz is sunburned. Now I am Finally on antibiotics and I can actually breathe through my nose again; my sinuses aren't out of control painful! It is very exciting. So today, after spending the past three days just walking around, today I laced up my sneakers (sort of new Nikes that I don't really like) and headed to the Cherry Creek Trail directly behind my apartment. I jacked up the volume on my ipod and took off. And I ran for a whole entire 15 minutes (gee whiz.) before doubling over gasping for air and desperately needing a walk break. All told, I ran about 3 miles, with a few intermittent walks.
My God, am I out of shape. Actually, it's more my lungs that are weak, I think. Between being sick and now living 5,280 miles about sea level, I was struggling for sure. It is too late for me to turn back now, and actually, I am already registered for another race, the Colorado Relay. Terrifying, I know, but hey, why not. Anyway, I have over three months to train for it, so I should be good... I hope.
There's only one way to find out, I suppose. I ran today; I am going to run tomorrow. I will probably be walking much more as the weeks progress, and I am fairly sure that my mountain bike (!!) is on its way as well. Ugh, there is so much to look forward to out here. Life is pretty damn exciting right now, even if I am also scared out of my mind that I am going to run out of money and not be able to pay my rent and my bills and then I guess I'll end up one of the friendly homeless people scattered throughout downtown Denver. But not tomorrow, anyway.
This life of mine is all about having crazy and absurdly amazing goals (the Colorado Relay!?) while still living day to day and not letting my anxiety overwhelm me. I am not sure I had ever really thought about moving to Denver before maybe three months ago, but here I am, alive and breathing and starting to run again. Who knows what this life will bring? I pray that the bad will occasionally be tempered by some good, and I pray I will be able to conquer the bad that occurs anyway. Running helps. Friends help a lot. Looking at the Rocky Mountains is pretty awesome as well. And one day (soon, I hope), I will be running with friends up and through those mountains. Crazy stuff, but hey, it's life, and it is all mine.
Running more. At altitude!
Unfortunately, the following week, I developed an epic cold and have only run once since March 27th, a measly 2.5 miles. Even that was a struggle. One of the things I realized is that I can be sick and work, or I can be sick and run, but I cannot be sick and do both things. Income trumped cardio.
Raging sinus infection or no, life goes on, and I find myself, five weeks following my crazy Canadian race, living in Denver, Colorado. Wait, what?? Yes, yes, I moved to Denver. Four Days Ago. No car, which means I have been walking all over the place these past few days trying to find groceries, toilet paper, a lamp for my bedroom (still looking for that last one...). Two things are worth noting for context's sake: One is that I walked Everywhere when I went to school in Boston. I was a walking machine because it was easy and necessary to walk around Boston. The second thing is that once I moved back to Chicago following my graduation, I no longer had to walk, much less walk miles and miles at a time. Sure, I ran lots, but walking is definitely different. Living in the suburbs with nowhere to walk to, I became complacent and comfortable driving my parents' car if I needed to get somewhere. Four days ago, all of that changed. I was once more thrown into a situation where I don't have a car, and there are limited means of getting myself around. Some weird leg muscles are currently crazy sore, but walking it is!
Now, this blog is sort of supposedly about running. I haven't run much lately, hence the lack of writing about my running. What was I supposed to say, "Yep, another day where I couldn't really breathe, just sat around feeling guilty and eating."? No, because that's lame. Also, while the sinus infection was my main deterrent, I think I was also kind of burnt out after all the pressure I had been putting on myself about the 30K and not training enough for it. I just needed to chill out and not feel like I had to go outside in the rain/snow/greyness and train for some race.
But now I live in Denver... Now I live within sight of the Rocky Mountains and right beside one of the major trail systems that runs through and around the city. Now there is actual sunshine - already, my schnoz is sunburned. Now I am Finally on antibiotics and I can actually breathe through my nose again; my sinuses aren't out of control painful! It is very exciting. So today, after spending the past three days just walking around, today I laced up my sneakers (sort of new Nikes that I don't really like) and headed to the Cherry Creek Trail directly behind my apartment. I jacked up the volume on my ipod and took off. And I ran for a whole entire 15 minutes (gee whiz.) before doubling over gasping for air and desperately needing a walk break. All told, I ran about 3 miles, with a few intermittent walks.
My God, am I out of shape. Actually, it's more my lungs that are weak, I think. Between being sick and now living 5,280 miles about sea level, I was struggling for sure. It is too late for me to turn back now, and actually, I am already registered for another race, the Colorado Relay. Terrifying, I know, but hey, why not. Anyway, I have over three months to train for it, so I should be good... I hope.
There's only one way to find out, I suppose. I ran today; I am going to run tomorrow. I will probably be walking much more as the weeks progress, and I am fairly sure that my mountain bike (!!) is on its way as well. Ugh, there is so much to look forward to out here. Life is pretty damn exciting right now, even if I am also scared out of my mind that I am going to run out of money and not be able to pay my rent and my bills and then I guess I'll end up one of the friendly homeless people scattered throughout downtown Denver. But not tomorrow, anyway.
This life of mine is all about having crazy and absurdly amazing goals (the Colorado Relay!?) while still living day to day and not letting my anxiety overwhelm me. I am not sure I had ever really thought about moving to Denver before maybe three months ago, but here I am, alive and breathing and starting to run again. Who knows what this life will bring? I pray that the bad will occasionally be tempered by some good, and I pray I will be able to conquer the bad that occurs anyway. Running helps. Friends help a lot. Looking at the Rocky Mountains is pretty awesome as well. And one day (soon, I hope), I will be running with friends up and through those mountains. Crazy stuff, but hey, it's life, and it is all mine.
Running more. At altitude!
Friday, March 4, 2011
Fridazed
Right now, I am plopped in front of the window in the front room of my house, looking at the yellowed grass and blearily uniform gray sky. It is close to 50 degrees outside, but it is also terribly damp and weirdly chilly. Instead of lacing up my new Nikes and pulling on some short running pants or long running shorts (depending), I am nursing four shots of espresso laced with nonfat milk and cinnamon-y sugar.
It is finally the first week of March and I have not blogged as much as I would like, and I have run even less. My 30 kilometre road race is in 23 days. Only recently have I accepted that I probably shouldn't have signed up for it, that I do not have the mental fortitude to train through the winter. I just can. not. get. off. my. ass. I both am and am not making excuses for being unprepared for this run. Clearly, mine are lame excuses, but they are also explanations. It is a fact that I get severely down during the winter. And this winter, we have had so little sunlight, so few truly beautiful days. I know and admire and am (truthfully) a little jealous of my friends who remain functional all 12 months of the year. The key for me, then, is to accept that I am not one of those people and not let myself feel too guilty about it. It isn't like I stopped running altogether; I just ran less and at later times in the day. There was no chance of finding me awake and eager to run 12 miles at 6 a.m. Perhaps it is SADness; maybe it is just the lack of intellectual stimuli in most aspects of my life these past few months.
But it is finally March. I can actually hear some birds outside right now who had been wintering down south.
And I do still have a race to run in 23 days; I am not going to bail. I am going to do what I can between now and then, and then I am just going to enjoy myself on March 27. (Unless it is 35 degrees and raining, then, yes, I will be bailing.) There are very, very few constants in this world. People, beliefs, seasons, everything changes. This time in my life, too, will pass. This winter, these suburbs, this unmotivated blob I have become... I am changing everything.
In two months, I am moving to Denver. No idea what I will do with myself once there, but it is a change. It is a giant leap into the unknown world of self-reliance and growing up. I think I am even going to sign up for the Denver Marathon (October 9...!) because I want to keep growing, and I need to have established goals. May 1: move. October 9: run. In between: Live Fully. (and if anyone knows of any job openings in and/or around Denver, please let me know! Hooray!) Plus it will give me something fun to blog about.
So. Running. Thinking. Making it happen.
It is finally the first week of March and I have not blogged as much as I would like, and I have run even less. My 30 kilometre road race is in 23 days. Only recently have I accepted that I probably shouldn't have signed up for it, that I do not have the mental fortitude to train through the winter. I just can. not. get. off. my. ass. I both am and am not making excuses for being unprepared for this run. Clearly, mine are lame excuses, but they are also explanations. It is a fact that I get severely down during the winter. And this winter, we have had so little sunlight, so few truly beautiful days. I know and admire and am (truthfully) a little jealous of my friends who remain functional all 12 months of the year. The key for me, then, is to accept that I am not one of those people and not let myself feel too guilty about it. It isn't like I stopped running altogether; I just ran less and at later times in the day. There was no chance of finding me awake and eager to run 12 miles at 6 a.m. Perhaps it is SADness; maybe it is just the lack of intellectual stimuli in most aspects of my life these past few months.
But it is finally March. I can actually hear some birds outside right now who had been wintering down south.
And I do still have a race to run in 23 days; I am not going to bail. I am going to do what I can between now and then, and then I am just going to enjoy myself on March 27. (Unless it is 35 degrees and raining, then, yes, I will be bailing.) There are very, very few constants in this world. People, beliefs, seasons, everything changes. This time in my life, too, will pass. This winter, these suburbs, this unmotivated blob I have become... I am changing everything.
In two months, I am moving to Denver. No idea what I will do with myself once there, but it is a change. It is a giant leap into the unknown world of self-reliance and growing up. I think I am even going to sign up for the Denver Marathon (October 9...!) because I want to keep growing, and I need to have established goals. May 1: move. October 9: run. In between: Live Fully. (and if anyone knows of any job openings in and/or around Denver, please let me know! Hooray!) Plus it will give me something fun to blog about.
So. Running. Thinking. Making it happen.
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