Morning Quikie

Got the bike yesterday. They did not charge me, as they were in error, (duh). But I don't think I will ever go to that shop again- customer service sucked and so did the repair.

But enough bitching- the past is the past and the present is bikedom! This is the official Bike to Work Week here and I'd like to take part but Monday no dice, T, W, TH I'm on course in a remote location that is unbikable. So Friday is the only day I can partake. Perhaps the universe is throwing obstacles in my so I can learn to relax? It certainly feels like I've been doing a lot of waiting/bumping up against walls. Which is hard for me. It triggers my need for instant gratification- which is what so often leads me to binge. "I don't feel happy and I want to feel better now! I think I'll eat, that'll help."

I never learned to just sit with my feelings. And that more than anything is probably the magic ingredient I am missing since I lost the initial weight. For the last year, I've kept trying to pinpoint the magic ingredient to success, right down to thinking that the season, summer, was the pivotal reason why I lost weight, or that I won't lose weight in every other season. Obviously, I have to let go of that magical thinking. And ironically, the way to do that is to sit with my feelings of sadness at having gained weight and sit through them until they pass- rather than eating. Which is what I've been doing.

When I was just sitting through feelings, letting them pass through and over and out of my world, I was losing weight. During those times when things gelled and I was able to let feelings pass without too much "weight" being attached to them, and I was consistently sitting through them, I lost the most weight, and it was easy in the sense that it wasn't a struggle. I would say to myself, "I know you want to eat right now. And I understand that urge. But let's wait 20 minutes, if you still want to eat we'll discuss our options. I need you to sit with me right now though this feeling though, and let it pass. If we act on it by eating, by doing anything destructive we're literally feeding it and it will never go away. We know that, we've done it many times before and food never works in the longterm. If we wait, it will go. And we'll get what we want in the long term and short term."

I'd repeat bits and peices of that over and over to myself as I sat through the feeling. And if I decided I did need to eat I would go to Sbux and get a lite drink- because it was summer and I wanted something icy and refreshing. But not calorie laden.

It wasn't a magic bullet, and as I recall I journaled a lot and had a lot of moments where I was painfully emotional and feeling raw- especially on long days left to myself. But it was hepful.

Am I ready to try again?

What's next?

So, I didn't get the dream job. What I didn't say in this blog was that while I waited to hear about the position I put off two things.

I put off signing up for my program at a local university next year. And I put off scheduling my surgery.

I'm not 100% committed to the university program, but the reality is my employer is paying for it (once I complete it) and with the way my career is going right now, I can use any boost I can get. Maybe it's just the sadness about not getting that job speaking, but I have this voice in the back of my head asking, "If you're such a hot shot why haven't you gotten a new job yet, you said this place was just a landing strategy, so what's the problem? Maybe it's you?"

The weird thing is, in jobs past, I've always been way too busy. Staying late, working through lunches-every day for six month stretches. Right now, I can take a lunch every day and I go home at on time. And I really like that. Yet I'm chafing at the bit with the micromanaging. My ED makes all the decisions and I just book rooms. I don't have any access to the decision making. I fought that hard, until I adopted a zen approach. But the zen approach worried me- did it mean I was becoming a complacenet house cat, letting everyone else get all the opportunities? I was able to shush my ego and let it go, until I saw an out in the dream job. And then I started to fantasize about how great it would be to combine what I have learned in this job, humility and the working my set hours, with autonomy and confidence from my "superiors".

Like for example, I wonder if I shouldn't be learning how to make videos. W does and god knows they love him. I used to be the golden girl and a part of me misses that. But i also worked crazy hours and worked crazily just to gain approval, which was fleeting. Ugh. I can talk myself into circles on this.

So I need to cut to the chase. Does it matter to me that boss respects me? Not really, I mean it would be nice, but I don't have much control over her. Does it matter if I'm the star? Definitely not. Does it matter if I deliver on my promises? Yes. Do I? Yes. Then that's it. That's all I can do. Do I want to make videos? A little. I'd also like to get better at building websites. So how about I just go ahead and update my own website portfolio and then start playing with video. I have the software here at home. I can make a video of the tetons!

But I'm not doing it for "them". I'm doing it for me. To bring a little fun back to my work.

As for the surgery, not getting that job (I was so sure I'd at least be interviewed!!!) means that I can now take off all of August, which is a gift, really. And I can have almost a whole month to recover and get used to this new way of eating. It will be like a spa.

More on that later...

The highs and lows

I finally heard back on a job I had applied for- turns out they want more media experience. I do a lot of fielding and behind the scenes work but I don't deal with media much anymore. I think what they really wanted was a retired journalist turned hack. Which seems to be the best way to get a good job in PR around here, writers just don't cut it anymore.

But it was a good experience. The woman running the posting was really kind and just... well, nice. I called her on Monday to inquire about the short-list and she seemed genuinely happy to hear from me, (She actually said, "I am genuinely happy to hear from you!") which is the total opposite of the dreaded "hi, I just sent in my resume two weeks ago and was wondering if you'd ever get around to shortlisting for interviews?" phone call job applicants are hectored to make. I once had to make one of those calls and sit through awkward silence as the gal on the other end actually read a prepared speech to me verbatim about her branch process for selecting interview candidates. That's savvy key messaging!

But like I said, it was a good experience. It got me to thinking about the possibility for something new and better.

Next week is Bike to Work Week here. I called the bike shop and of course they were cheerful and friendly and said that my tire situation would be an easy and quick fix (only I have my doubts, I don't think it's the tube, it's the tire... but I'll cross that bridge later and now that I have spewed all my inner vitriol I feel much better about the whole thing) and shouldn't take long.

Which got me to thinking. Just how long will my new route be, exactly?

Well thankfully my co-worker Emily came to the rescue and sent me a link for Gmap. It's awesome. I was able to map my route, including the bike trails here and I was able to see that my route is 7 km or 4.5 miles. (Funny, I have been here so long that km's have more of a frame of reference for me than miles. That said, I will forever remain a farenheit girl, the idea that 30 is smoking hot is just stupid.)

My diet brain took over and started to do some calculations. That's 14.5 km's a day, or 9 miles. Calories burned round trip is 1862. That's more than I eat some days! (We call those good days). Take all of that over a work week and I've racked up 72.5 km/ 45 mi and 9,310 calories.

7 km's isn't much- I've ridden much more over hilly terrain without an electric motor to help. I find for me that the first 3 km's are a bit of a slog- my body just isn't that warmed up and I feel like it's "work" but after the 3 mark, I'm sailing until about 12-15 km's. But I will have 8 hours to recover between rides so realistically, I probably won't even be that tired. Sure, the first week I'll be knackered from the novelty and my anxiety for doping something new.

And I'll probably need to get there early and shower and do my hair there, but I'm okay with that.
______________________

Okay, the truth is, I'm bummed about the job- not even an interview- come on! But I'm mostly bummed for selfish reasons. I loved the idea of a four day work week and I loved the idea of getting paid $200 more p/month for 4 days less work (work/life balance rules) and doing something with more autonomy. Non-selfishly I really do miss doing something in non-profit land, but selfishly, I don't miss non-profit land culture.

But that's a post for another day.

Grrrr

This probably isn't going to be a very interesting post for anyone but me, but then again I don't have readers so what do I care?!

Picked up the bike in the afternoon yesterday. First red flag: they hooked up the wires wrong so the motor was going- but it wasn't actually working. The tech could have rolled his eyes and seemed more responsive to my request that it be fixed. At first he said something about not having space until May 30. Yeah, no. It took me being polite but persistent (read not leaving as they closed for the day) for them to open it up and fix the connection right then, not May 30th. Semi-satisfied, I head off into traffic without my helmet- which I thought was in the storage box on the bike, but wasn't, so I don't want to accuse them of theft, but, where the fuck is my helmet? I decide to let go of the helmet issue, after all, I could be mistaken and I don't want to charge in their sputtering accusations when so much has already gone wrong.

I start pedaling my way through traffic and right away even with the motor charged up I feel a lot of resistance. But I ignore it. I put it down to my first ride and nervousness (the whole time I keep thinking about the person who will, at any moment, snidely take me to task for not wearing a helmet not to mention all the shitty looks I will get). I ignore the resistance and keep going.

But then I get on the goose. And I just know something is wrong. Even still I don't listen to that little voice. I tell it to shut up. But my back tire is flat. It has to be. It's dragging and bumping and I can hear the rubber smacking against the pavement. I may not be Lance Fucking Armstrong, but I'm pretty sure my back tire isn't supposed to make slapping noises. But I tell myself to shut up. Because I just picked up my bike from the shop and paid $100.00 to get it repaired and tires changed. The little voice whispers FUCK. I keep riding. Maybe I'm wrong, what do I know about electric bikes? Maybe this is normal, I hope. A lady calls out to me. Inwardly I cringe. I just know she's gonna say that I should be wearing a helmet. Instead she calls out, "I think you have a flat. In the back."

I make that helpless 'I know, whatt'ya gonna do face'. Cause really, I'm half way home, I have a flat and the bike shop is closed. So what can I do? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

These situations really get the best of me because I find the bike shop intimidating to begin with. They all look very athletic. Like the kind of people who think nothing of pulling a century over the weekend for shits and giggles. (A century, for those not in the know is a one hundred mile ride). And the bike weighs a ton so getting it there is epic. Plus, I paid for a service and they screwed up the connection and gave me 'tude about it. And they didn't change the tire or the tube in the tire correctly. So now I have to go back. I have to lug that heavy bike into the trunk of our car, drag it in and I just fucking know they're going to be dicks about a quick service and a refund. I don't think I should pay for any labour for this fix, and I should definitely be refunded for the last one. Plus, the timing is all fucked because their hours don't fit with mine so that means the weekend, which means who knows when I will actually get to ride my new (fucking) bike.

So why does it make me so mad (aside from shitty customer service and wasted time)? Because, this is screwing with my plans. I had hoped to use the bike as a catalyst for change- forward momentum, man. And the truth is, I have some kind of screwed up way of being that says if I don't exercise every day I am a bad person. If I don't eat right every day, I am a bad person, too.

You combine those two commandments (thou shalt exercise and thou shalt eat right) and I am bound to screw one or both of them up on a daily basis.

But I figured, I have to get back and forth to work, so, building a bike ride into my routine was my crafty attempt to take a little bit of the pressure off myself- and avoid daily jaunts on the smelly loser cruiser. (Plus I desperately want to be one of those sporty people who think nothing of hopping on their bikes for a half century on a weekend for shits and giggles). Commuting by bike would mean I'd accomplished half of my daily "to-do list" 5 days a week. (Imagine the sweet relief of getting at living up to one commandment at least!)

Now though, my plans have all gone to shit. I had to sit through two weeks while the bike got serviced and that caused me to be anxious (unfinished business). Then you add in the fact that I had to shell out $450.00 for the bike and $100.00 for repairs and I feel guilty for spending so much money on myself. Then you factor in my mounting terror about riding in traffic (compounded by the fact that I have to wait to face my fear), and, my embarrassment that I need an electric bike versus a regular bike and I really just feel like... like I am on hold. And the feeling of being on hold is just anxiety- it's like being in a waiting room, waiting to start to feel more in control, to stop feeling like a failure.

Why do I feel like a failure? The usual stuff. I'm 100 lbs overweight, I gained back 20 of the 70 lbs I lost last year. I hate my job and am in a "junior" position, I left a higher paying position due to someone sexually harassing me in an already toxic environment (and I can always just imagine every one's nasty comments behind my back "she couldn't cut it", "she brought it on herself by being too friendly", "she's weak and broke down under the pressure"). What else? I don't have a degree. I don't have sex enough with my husband (anti-depressants take away my sex drive), I'm not a good gardener, I have bad knees, I have cellulite on my calves (who the fuck has ripples of cellulite on their calves beside me?) I don't floss often enough and have gingivitis. I have corns and wide feet. Lately, I can't wear heels because they hurt too much. Oh, and I seem to have permanent camel toe nowadays. (The C-Toe, combined with my "comfortable flats" makes me look about 20 years older than I am, with a big vag, to boot.)

No wonder I feel like a failure. Actually, the wonder is that I actually get out of bed every day and continue to make an effort. But then I seize upon a plan- a plan in the making for a year- to ride to work every day. It took me a full year to devise a means by which I could reasonably attempt to ride to work every day on a bike. It took a whole year- more than a year- to gently cajole myself into braving traffic and other, potentially judgemental bikers, it took me spending money on myself, it took me planning safe routes, contingency plans, coordinating apres bike ride grooming plans and supplies, psyching myself up and god knows what else. It took a year to get here and now the whole fucking plan is delayed (and sullied) because the bike shop made me wait 2 weeks to get it serviced and fucked up the servicing and now I will have to wait who knows how long to get it right. (Plus I have my suspicions that bike people will be like restaurant servers and get back at me for asking for my bike to be fixed and not be charged the equivalent of spitting in my supper- they seem like a petty and vindictive bunch).

And, it's bike to work week next week, and I signed up for a team. It's a small thing, but being able to drop my participation in bike to work week into casual conversation would have meant a lot to me. And I would have felt like I was part of something- but nooooo that's all over now. That is just dashed. Ruined.

Maybe some people can take these things in stride and shrug their shoulders and say, oh well, it's gonna be fixed eventually. But I'm not one of those people. Besides for me, this is like waiting for a year, not two weeks. This was a series of baby steps on the way to a larger goal and now external obstacles are in my fucking way. And I feel like external obstacles are also in the way of my career. They're beyond my control. I can't change them. I have to be zen. Okay, well I've adopted a zen attitude on my job, but now the universe wants me to be zen about the bike, too?

Come on. Give me a fucking break. Actually, no, give me a fucking bone. Just something. One little thing I could do to feel a little bit more in control, a little less like a fuck, a little more like I won't be 100+ lbs overweight with a gaping camel toe for the rest of my life. One little fucking win is all I need right now.

But instead, I'm consigned to the waiting room.

Of mice and men

Today seems to have a theme- making me unsettled.

In the morning we had a nurse come by to draw blood, take our blood pressure and urine samples for insurance coverage. Kevin is their ideal client, he runs, he's thin, he never drinks and doesn't have an enormous amount of death and illness in his immediate family. I, on the other hand, am considered and insurance risk. Mother died at 49, 275b lbs.

Later today, I have a Dr's appt. I'm going because I have been avoiding dealing with my knee pain for, oh, years. And I thought if I am going to get the lap band surgery I might as well also deal with some other issues at the same time. I'm also dealing with hypoglycemia, have been for years. But since I have been headachey for the last while I thought I'd finally seek some medical advise- maybe it's not hypoglycemia or maybe they have better info than I can find on the internet on my own.

I went to the bike shop to pick up my bike but duh, it's not ready until 4:30 today. I'm pretty sure that by the time 4:30 rolls around the sky will open up and it's gonna pour on my first ride home. But I guess that's just another thing to get used to if I bike to work every day in the "good" months.

Already I started to calculate how much weight I could lose biking about 12 K a day. Probably about 5 lb's a month if I'm conservative- or 10 if I was able to avoid binge eating and all drinking. But asking that of myself, especially right now when I've been so unwilling and unable to do that, seems like setting myself up for failure and disappointment. And frankly I'm a tad sick of feeling disappointed in myself- feeling as if I am letting myself down all the time is fucking tiring.

Kevin and I have been watching Cesar Millan, the Dog Whisperer,on DVD a lot. At first it started as a fun distraction. We know our dogs aren't perfect, by any means, and we figured we'd pick up some good tips and tricks but I didn't think it would have any lasting impact on my life.

But something has sunk in!

The DW talks a lot about rehabilitating dogs and training humans. He also talks a lot about how dogs pick up on energy and use energy- they use energy to decide on a course of action, to be with someone- everything really. I started to realize that when I got Runkie I saw him as a savior. I had no friends, no family here and it was the first time I put my foot down in our relationship and demanded we do something outside of our comfort zone by getting Runkie.

Normally, I tend to go with the flow. But there have been a couple of notable instances where I have been firm and demanded we do things my way. Buying the house, Runkie and Skittles are all in our lives at my insistence. I said that they were non-negotiable things I had to have in my life in order to function. I always feel guilty about these things (before I "get" them and for a little while immediately after) but they always end up being a life changing experience for both of us- that improves our lives. It usually takes a year to five to accomplish them, sometimes less in Skittles case!

Back to Runkie though. When I got him Kevin still worked nights and we both slept during the day. I had terrible anxiety and panic attacks and just being outside alone caused me to feel terrified. I was not the person I am now. I couldn't leave the house unless accompanied by someone else. And because I had no friends, no family, no job- nothing, I really didn't have a reason to go out, really. So Runkie represented my fledgling attempt to rejoin the world. He needed to be walked for potty time. He needed to see people, places and things. And so I started to explore the world with him.

Because of my anxiety I didn't much more than go around the block by myself the first year, and even that was nerve wracking. But he was my shield. I was gauranteed good interactions with him at my side and I felt safe with him there.

But according to the DW I was putting him into the role of the protector and pack leader and that's where a lot of his dominance problems stem from. He only did what I asked him to do. And as I got better I never took that role away from him because for the most part, he's a good boy and I see that he has a gift of calming people and being incredibly loving. I didn't want to call him dominant or aggressive because he's not- he's insecure because I put a heavy burden on him. And when he and I bump up against one another for "power" he's confused. I let him run the show for so long he doesn't understand why I am saying no.

We even have a joke about him, if he had a motto it would be: you don't tell me, I tell you.

Anyway, Runkie attacks if we try to take a chewie away. So now I have been using the DW techniques of dominating him to put his chews down, instead of asking (and getting bitten). I stand by him or sit and start taking up physical space and I only ask once. I wait for him to move away and drop it. He attacked during the last session, (his chewis was down to a nub and we panic he'll choke- he has before) and I put him on his side and waited for him to calm down. And it's working.

I think it's all about the energy though. If I put him on his side and was filled with anger, it would be abusive. If I put him on his side and think instead of being a calm, balanced influence who is bringing peace and compassion to the situation, I can feel him relax. I keep his tail up so he doesn't get scared and when I feel him relax, I can actually feel it, I loosen my grip and start to stroke him in neutral zones, so it's never a punishment, but a correction.

There's some controversy about the DW's methods- but the important thing in my eyes is intention and energy. If the intention is to defuse an aggressive dog in an aggressive situation and you send a calm, confident energy, it's not cruel. When I put Runkie on his side I could actually feel him release his tension and rage after a couple of seconds, it was like the fight went out of him, not the spirit which is what animal owners always worry about, but the fight. The aggression naturally faded and I could almost feel or sense that he was coming to his senses. Like a switch had gone off in his brain that said, "I don't actually want to bite my mother, I just flared up because she tried to take my precious, but I guess that's not good."

Skittles is another matter. Skittles is pure fun. She has never bitten either of us, or anyone for that matter. Skittles' main goal in life is to have fun, to enjoy every second and squeeze the love out of every encounter. She's a big suck- she loves to cuddle and she has no personal boundaries. Our bodies are merely extensions of her pack sense- she feels it's totally natural to be connected to us by laying all over us. It's not dominance, she's insecure and our presence makes her feel safe and secure. I try to introduce her to situations where she can overcome little obstacles and become more confident and I think doing some DW techniques with her can help her feel more calm. Mostly we're focusing on creating space in the household- no jumping on the nice furniture, calm submissive state before walks (as opposed to bouncing off the walls), asking to come up on us and being more polite with strangers (instead of actually bouncing off of them and trying to stand on their shoulders).

In her case, I think Skittles' feels more secure because she'll have rules and boundaries- things will be clear to her so she'll feel secure in herself. That's the hope anyway.

But all of that was really a segue! Or just me thinking through my own history with my dogs. All of that was to say that both of them are conduits and living expressions of my mood and needs. Runkie came to me at a time when I needed stability and leadership- he provided that to me! He came to me when I needed someone to help me come out of my shell and with his cute looks and fun personality he attracted people to me and helped me to gain confidence during social interactions. Skittles came into my life just after we lost Mondo and I was desperately seeking love. Runkie was getting on in years and wasn't as cuddly- he wanted more space. I wanted and needed someone who could share my sense of play and fun enhance my own good times. I wanted a cuddly little being who had no boundaries so I could shower them with constant affection and give them all the love I don't give to myself. From day one, Skittles gave me that. She loved being touched and stroked and snuggled. She's a repository for all the love I feel. For me Skittles is affection.