Cutting Off Dead Weight

"Letting go really refers to choosing to become transparent to the strong pull of our own likes and dislikes, and of the unawareness that draws us to cling to them. To be transparent requires that we allow fears and insecurities to play themselves out in the field of full awareness." 

--- Jon Kabat-Zinn

The term letting go used to cause me to cringe. I had a few friends who would claim they finally learned to surrender, to let go. It bothered me, I believe, because I didn't truly understand the concept. In fact, it was the antithesis of what I was taught to do as a competitive athlete, where you battle, fight, and persevere. 

After a few difficult weeks and lots of soul-searching I think I finally understand what it means to let go. Events in my life placed me in a position where I reacted to my emotions almost unconsciously. I was, in a sense, on autopilot; I refused to tune into what I really wanted or needed out of the situation. I expressed desires and goals incongruous with core aspects of my being. I acted, momentarily, from places of lapsed awareness.    

But today, I took positive steps to proactively end a situation that had become toxic. As I spoke to a dear friend of mine I explained how I couldn't figure out if this was a time where I needed to further struggle through or simply allow myself to release it. She sensed, with her Buddhist gut, the latter was likely the case. I agreed. I went on to explain, however, how the steps I took today caused me to feel lighter, but sadly more numb than anything else. In her wisdom she offered, "I don't know that it's a sudden feeling of lightness as much as it's a slow awareness. Like when you lose weight and you realize your thighs don't rub together anymore." She continued, "So maybe it's like carrying a bag of sand and you cut a hole in it rather than put it down. As you move on, it'll get lighter and lighter." 

Though I feel like I completely dropped the bag of sand on the ground today whether it remains there is largely up to me. In truth, the sand began to seep out of the bag months ago. Attempts to plug up the hole weren't made as I stood on solid ground. I'm hopeful that in short time letting go of the situation will cause most, if not all, of this to pass. If any remains, then perhaps I'll embrace my familiar skills of courage, perseverance, and true grit to totally cleanse myself. I have a hunch it won't come to that. 

Package of Love

When I left home this evening I found the box below on my doorstep. It is from a dear friend of mine, Elizabeth or Bessie as I call her, who visited New Orleans last weekend to celebrate her upcoming wedding. Bessie and I have known one another since Kindergarden, but we hadn't spent a ton of time since high school investing in our friendship. But no worries, the weekend was delightful. We had a great time as we learned more about one another as grown-ups and reconnected in a way that makes me optimistic about our future as close friends in adulthood. 

The pictures of the package are enough to convey why I'm optimistic. Bessie is a pro at running marathons and has even completed an Ironman. She rocks! And the package was a pleasant and welcome surprise. Thank you Bessie, more than words can convey. 

"13.1 no problem"

"I Love Running."

"Run fast!"


And my favorite; the contents of the package included: Gu, caffeinated Jelly Bellys, Kleenex (for a runny nose or a bathroom stop), warm gloves, 2 pairs of non-blister running socks, plenty of petroleum gel, and a note detailing confidence and offering words of wisdom for the race. 

Thanks again Bessie. I'm fortunate to have you in my life.  

Optimism Even in Irony

Noble be man,
Helpful and good!
For that alone
Sets him apart
From every other creature
On earth.
(from Goethe's The Divine, 1783)

When I arrived at Temple Sinai tonight for a Social Action Committee meeting I noticed a magnet on one of the filing cabinets. The magnet was from the U.S. Holocaust Museum and its message was one of remembrance. I first thought of the story I heard on NPR this morning about Pope Benedict's XVI's decision to undo the excommunication of a bishop who recently denied the Holocaust by stating: "The historical evidence is hugely against 6 million Jews having been deliberately gassed in gas chambers as a deliberate policy of Adolf Hitler." This, of course, saddens me. I worry about the impact John Paul II's successor will have on Catholic-Jewish relations. 

But, instead of dwelling on the negative, my thoughts quickly shifted. The magnet also reminded me of the two times I visited the Museum. At the end of the exhibit there is a sitting area where various videos are played. My favorite involves the story of a U.S. military officer who helped to liberate Jewish prison camp survivors. At the Museum, the story of Kurt Klein is woven into the telling of Gerda Weissman Klein's. At one point Gerda, a Jewish prisoner, leads the officers to where other women laid dying. She opens the door, waves her hand over the scene, and tells Kurt, "Noble be man, merciful and good." Kurt describes his disbelief and irony in how Gerda was able to summon the words of Goethe's The Divine at such a moment. 

Gerda's words caused me then and now to reflect on one of my favorite books of all time, Man's Search For Meaning, by Viktor Frankl. The human ability to survive, persist, and even thrive in horrid situations comforts me. When tested, I believe most of us are stronger than we realize. I recently read the following: "Every time I feel loveless, I think of something I've heard on a few occasions: Love is a Verb. Then I know what to do." 

Love, demonstrated by good acts, is the essence of our human capacity. It is, as Goethe aptly noted, what sets us apart. Another one of my goals for 2009 is to live more comfortably and to embrace and love more fully whatever and whomever is put in my path. There is optimism to be found in the darkest of times; my very own, if you will, "This I Believe." 

The links to the videos are worth the time. If, however, you find them too cumbersome to watch an abbreviated version of the Kleins' story may be read here.

National Marathon

"You move from doing things to show other people you could, to where you do things to look into yourself, into your soul, and see who you are and what you are all about."
---- Scott Weber

I was reminded of the above quote the other day as I conversed with a new, dear friend of mine. As we talked of life and its struggles -- mainly mine that night -- he hedged his bets and suggested my recent passion for running has been fueled by a desire to conquer myself and any accompanying weaknesses, which are inherent in all of us.

I reflected on his comment and within seconds knew he was right. I started to run again a little over a year ago as I was studying for the Bar Exam. Running, back then, allowed me to feel the same way I felt as a college athlete --- in control and focused. Though I'm not a huge Madonna fan, my favorite song on my iPod at the time was "Isaac." The part of the song that really inspired me was, "Remember remember and never forget. All of your life has all been a test. You will find the gate that's open. Even though your spirit's broken." The idea of pushing through both the run and the studying motivated me.

After a medically-imposed brief hiatus from running I hit the pavement yesterday for the first time in three days. As most of you know my half-marathon is this weekend, so yesterday's run was abbreviated. But as I glided through three miles of what I would term pure-joy I felt, again, whole. The mental and physical began to sync. It was exhilarating. 

Thus, when I returned home I logged online to see a list of all upcoming marathons. After a couple of hours of Internet research, calls to a few friends (who will likely run the half or at least come along to cheer me on), and a brief chat with my folks, I settled on the National Marathon in D.C. I love the city, and though the race is only 7 weeks away, the challenge makes it more appealing. I did, however, contact Jenni Peters, an established marathoner and coach from Baton Rouge to gain her input on whether 7 weeks was adequate time to prepare. Her advice was to run the half this weekend and then re-access whether my body will be able to handle running 15 miles the following weekend. Bottom line: I see an ice bath in my future after Sunday's race. 

Though each day I learn a smidgen more of who I am and what I am "all about," I am excited about the opportunity to look a little bit deeper into my soul. The National Marathon, I believe, will provide that and more. I can't wait! 

Movie Madness

After an early dinner with my folks I went to see The Wrestler with a friend. He had an affinity for wrestling in high school, though I learned not for the extreme form displayed in the film. And, because I spent many hours of December and January in movie theaters I've seen the trailer numerous times and was intrigued. 

My two favorite parts in the trailer are when Randy "The Ram" Robinson (played by Mickey Rourke) pleas for his daughter to allow him back into his life by saying "I'm an old broken down piece of meat and I deserve to be all alone. I just don't want you to hate me" and when Marisa Tomei's character Cassidy, a stripper Randy attempts to start a relationship with, tells him "I'm really here." The latter quote really hit home. 

I was, however, disappointed with the movie. It portrayed a couple of the darker sides of life, drug/steroid use and stripping, and failed to end with even partial redemption for any of the characters. Randy was a tragic figure consumed and destroyed by his lifestyle in the ring. He failed to connect with anyone outside of wrestling, including his daughter and Cassidy. After attempts to reconcile with his daughter seemed likely, Randy's demons destroyed any hope of healing. And, the lack of a true connection between Randy and Cassidy took the punch out of the line "I'm really here." 

I thought initially my disappointment was in The Wrestler's sad ending. But I recently saw Revolutionary Road, which has an ending that is certainly not uplifting, and absolutely loved it (review forthcoming). So, in addition to The Wrestler being sad and without redemption, it was also its failure to challenge or force me to ponder questions that left me unsatisfied. 

I think, to steal a lyric from the movie's main song, the trailer was The Wrestler's one-trick pony. So save your money and watch it for free. 

The Jackson Day Race

I named my second cat Jackson because I thought he looked the part of a Southern gentleman. Unfortunately, in spite of his handsome, dapper looks, the race I participated in on January 11th was not in honor of him, but instead for General Andrew Jackson. The entire history of the fifth oldest road race in the nation may be found here.

I didn't win any awards for my performance but finished 51st out of 276 women participants. I was pleased with my result. I only recently started to take a serious approach to running distance. So, after years of thinking I was a natural sprinter and only built for speed, the literal change of pace has been a challenge, but a nice one. I must admit, however, being able to kick into a near sprint for the last 300 meters was certainly beneficial. So, while I continue to train my slow-twitched fibers I'll give thanks for the fast-twitched ones passed down to me through the genes of both my parents, who themselves, were natural sprinters.

Full Circle

In March of 2006, my initial post in the blogger-sphere was prompted by a then-recent diagnosis of kidney disease. The doctors, at the time, had not performed a biopsy but suspected due to family history and my presenting symptoms some form of familial nephritis. The initial prognosis, without actual facts to indicate the level of my kidney function, were grim. 

After in-depth study of my family history, a biopsy performed in May of 2006, and genetic testing results I received only last week, my woes are less severe than initially thought. I have low-grade IgA Nephropathy. Only 25% of patients with IgA develop end-stage renal disease, and based on my current kidney function (which is within the normal population's range) three specialists doubt I'll ever reach the point where a kidney transplant will be necessary. And since I've begun to take greater care of my health via exercise my prognosis has markedly improved. 

Genetic testing finally answered the only question that loomed: whether I was a carrier for Alport's Syndrome. The Syndrome runs in my family, and there were indicators in my biopsy that suggested it as a possibility. Because Alport's Syndrome is more destructive, and carried on the X-Chromosome, the diagnosis would have meant more headache should the universe decide to bestow upon me the gift of having children. By that I mean the responsible option would have been to engage in costly in vitro and to select for only females. I was, therefore, greatly relieved when the doctor called on Monday to deliver the fantastic news that I am not a carrier of Alport's Syndrome. 

So, what does it mean for me? Reproductively I'm like any other woman. I think this is an issue many folks can't quite appreciate unless they are faced with similar problems (infertility, etc.) of their own. 

What impact will this have on my blog? I'm tempted to halt the practice altogether. Since I started to blog when I received the initial kidney news it seems like an apt way to end the exercise. I'm not, however, ready to commit to an absolute ending yet. But, I am prepared to take a hiatus for a while. How long? Maybe forever, maybe be a week, maybe a couple of months, or only a couple of days. I'm not sure. But the timing seems right, and besides, I have plenty of resolutions to focus on. 

Blogging has served may varied and great purposes in my life during the years of 2006, 2007, 2008, and a small portion of 2009. I'll return when I return --- or not. My heart and brain will determine whether I start again. 

25 Things About Me

I've done this once before but it was easier because the request was only to list five things you might not know about me. To list 25 may prove to be more of a challenge, but I'm up for the task.  

Like my earlier post, I borrowed the idea from another blogger. Her list reminded me of a few of my own, so I plan to co-opt not only the concept, but also a couple of the items used.

1. I was a gymnast in my youth and attended Bela Karoli's summer camp (age 6) where I refused to bathe for seven days. 

2. My mother used to smell my neck after a bath to ensure I actually bathed. It took her a while, but she eventually realized I was only cleaning the spots she inspected.

3. My father is an avid big-game hunter, so my house resembles a natural history museum. I used to have nightmares that the animals on the walls had come to life and were chasing me down the hall to my parent's room which was always locked.  

4. I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. 

5. I've been in therapy off and on (mostly on) since I turned 19. I've seen my current therapist for nearly three years, and she's provided the tools for me to accomplish many great things. 

6. I started pre-school a year early after, as a result of watching the soaps with my sitter, I attempted to French kiss my mother. 

7. In seventh grade, I had my mother drop me off at Bible study at a local church at 7 p.m. I was the only one under age 70 that attended. 

8. My grandmother, who was my rock throughout my childhood, died nearly 9 years ago. I sometimes unexpectedly burst into tears when I think of how much I miss her. 

9. My father was a dentist, and thus, sweets were forbidden in the house. So, I would sneak over to the neighbor's, head directly to their cupboard, and eat as many mouthfuls of grape powdered cool-aide as possible. 

10. I swear to this day I saw the image of my dead great-grandfather as I headed to my room from my parent's one night. 

11. I penned the lyrics to a song entitled, "You can eat make-up" when I was six. There was an accompanying dance as well. 

12. I performed a routine to "Baby Got Back" before every softball game when I was a freshman in high school. 

13. In third grade, I faked an ankle injury because a kid in my class who was on crutches got special treatment. The doctor performed an X-Ray, deemed my leg to be broken, and ironically, suited me up for a walking cast. There was no special treatment for a injured person who could walk. 

14. A couple of years later, my leg became lodged under a four-wheeler. I completely broke my tibia and my fibula was dislocated. 

15. I slept on the floor of my parent's room until I was in 7th grade, but not because I feared for my own safety. 

16. I played Molly when I was in fifth grade in the high school production of "Annie."

17. I was a vegetarian, living in the Smoked Meat capital of the world, during middle school. 

18. I refused to speak in the halls of school during 7th and 8th grade because our new school was in an old convent and I thought it was disrespectful to the Eucharist still housed in the building. 

19. In 9th grade I argued with a lecturer at my Catholic High School about why it was okay for married couples to have oral sex (since it couldn't lead to procreation) and not okay for same-sex couples to engage in that behavior. 

20. I convinced my 6th grade teacher to change the demerit system due to what I saw as blatant unfairness. (The lawyer in me was already beginning to bud)

21. I was kicked off of the LSU Softball team due to the biases of my staunch Southern Baptist coach. He had the majority of the team convinced that flying locusts were coming soon as the Rapture approached. We also, at a public institution, had "voluntary" Bible Studies.

22. I swore off all organized religion for nearly 12 years. 

23. When faced with what initially was thought to be a serious kidney disease I started to shop around for an organized religion that made sense to me. I missed, in my life, a community to plug into for support. 

24. I found my relief in Judaism and proudly converted on July 21, 2008. 

25. Because I value Judaism I want to find a partner who is not only Jewish, but who shares my passion for Judaism. I sometimes worry that my desire has limited my dating pool, though, recent good news (which I'll blog about soon) provided comfort. I have time to find that person. The pressure is off. 

The Writer's Almanac

The Writer's Almanac never fails to put a smile on my face. If I miss it on my short drive to work I, on most days, check their website to see what was covered. Here were a couple of nice pieces from today. Of course, without the voice of Garrison Keillor it doesn't to it true justice. 

It's the birthday of Khalil Gibran, (books by this author) born in Bsharri, Lebanon (1883). When Gibran was 12 years old, his mother left her husband and moved her four children to Boston. He grew up, became a popular host, and one day the publisher Alfred A. Knopf came to one of his parties. Knopf was impressed, and he published Gibran's book The Prophet (1924). It became a huge best-seller in the 1960s.

The Prophet contains lines like: "Work is love made visible." And, "You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give."

It's the birthday of Edgar Lawrence Doctorow, E.L. Doctorow, (books by this author) born in New York City in 1931. He said, "Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia."

I hope you enjoyed them. Actually, I hope you heard the pieces live today on NPR. 

The Grand Slam

Over the holidays I saw all of the movies currently playing at Canal Place: Slumdog Millionaire, Milk, Doubt, and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. My favorites were Slumdog Millionaire and Milk. Doubt was a little too slow, and although The Curious Case of Benjamin Button wasn't as cheesy as I imagined, I agree with my friend Sara's review that it was overdone. 

An aside: at the beginning of Benjamin Button they mention Evangeline Parish (where my hometown, Ville Platte, is located). Also, the exterior of the train station is, I believe, the outside of the courthouse where I work. And, ironically, at one point in the movie Benjamin takes a voyage to India; thus, my current fascination was satiated a bit more. 

Since I completed the Grand Slam, I suppose it'll be all Zeitgeist for the next couple of weeks until the next batch of movies are released at Canal Place. 

Body Glide

So, I discovered during the last few months how much of a wuss I am when it comes to temperature and running outside. If inclement weather strikes --- and by inclement I'm referring to temperatures of 60 degrees or less --- I don outfits more suitable for sub-45 degree weather. I usually don't fully admit it's because of the weather, but instead cite the failure of shorts to guard against unwanted rashes after a long run. 

Yesterday a friend of mine purchased a tube of Body Glide for me. With this morning's 70+ degree weather I opted to wear shorts rather than my beloved compression capris. I finished my ten mile run without the slightest skin irritation much less a full-blown rash. Quite a success. 

If anyone knows of a product that will make me run slower (other than strapping a ridiculous amount of weights to my back) please let me know. I'm supposed to do my long runs 45 to 90 seconds slower than the pace I plan to maintain during the half-marathon. I'm aiming for approximately 9 minute miles yet every time I look at my heart-rate monitor I've managed to creep up to 9 minute and 30 seconds per mile or faster. I hate running at slower speeds. It seems counterintuitive, but my body aches more. 

If no one's devised a magical product to cure my tendency for speed, which only results in overtraining, some entrepreneur should take on the task. Maybe something called Body Grit would do the job. 

Resolutions

Perhaps I should have completed this post prior to January 1st or on that date. Do not fear, though, the list has been in the works for a couple of months. 

My resolutions for 2009 include: 

1. Visiting my clients within a week and a half of their arrest. 

2. Not beating myself up if I fail to visit my clients within a the aforementioned time period if, instead, work on other cases that are already in trial posture precludes the timely visits. 

3. Completing a marathon. Of course, if you know me, I want to finish it in a decent time. 

4. Running a 10K in less than 49 minutes. 

5. Running a 5K in under 23 minutes and 30 seconds. 

6. I refuse to set a weight goal. But, once I get an accurate measure of my current body fat, I'll set a goal for what I'd like that percentage to be by the end of the year. 

7. Improve the systems I use at work to organize my cases. Basically, re-implement GTD (Getting Things Done), the tool I relied upon in law school and that is so heavily touted on 43 Folders. 

8. Set aside three time periods per week for prayer and or meditation. 

9. Research a software program suitable for my particular needs to track finances and use it. 

10. Learn the intricacies of the Louisiana Rules of Evidence. 

11. Learn to read Hebrew. 

12. Take my dog on one short run a week. 

Pleasant Surprises

I love Zapp's potato chips. And even though I don't keep Kosher the label on the right (the K with the word parve written below it) that certifies they indeed comply with the laws of kashrut makes me smile.

As my friend Ariel pointed out, "Oh, the irony in having Kosher Crawtators." That made me smile too. 

My Own Act of Prohibition

Since I overcame the substance abuse problems of my late teens and early twenties moderation has been the name of the game. I don't drink to get drunk, and frankly, I don't even remember the last time I was "wasted." But on occasion, I enjoy a glass of wine either while I prepare a meal or when I'm out for dinner.

I've decided, though, tonight's my last call for alcohol. The half-marathon is 30 days away and I want to do everything in my power to run at my best. I'm meeting a group of friends for dinner at a Japanese restaurant in the Marigny. One of the guys, Harry-T, is a co-worker, native New Orleanian, and quite a character. One of his favorite pastimes is what he terms "breaking bread" or enjoying the presence of other's company with the addition of vino or some other beverage. Harry organized the event. Japanese food and a French band to follow. Odd combination, but I'm intrigued. So, I suppose I'll sip on some sake before settling in with true sobriety.

After the half marathon I'll re-evaluate alcohol's place in my life. If my love of running continues to grow my own act of prohibition may not be repealed. But then again, that would go against my rule of moderation that has served me so well. I'll table my concern until February 2nd. Right now work and running are all that truly needs to be on my brain.

I Stand Corrected

Last night a few folks came over for dinner to welcome the New Year. Actually, they came over for dinner and then left to go to the Bonfire in Mid-City to welcome in the New Year. I was so tired I actually skipped out on the Bonfire and fell asleep before midnight. Lame, perhaps, but I woke up this morning with a refreshed feeling and that was nice.

During the course of conversation, my earlier post Milk was discussed. A few folks had read the post yet failed to comment. I won't mention names, but you know who you are. Ariel pointed out that my facts were incorrect. Harvey told the specific line we discussed not to his younger lover but to another young actor in the film. In the moment, I of course, disagreed. So, today I received the following Facebook messages from Ariel:

"Harvey Milk: [to Cleve Jones] You're going to meet the most extraordinary men, the sexiest, brightest, funniest men, and you're going to fall in love with so many of them, and you won't know until the end of your life who your greatest friends were or your greatest love was.

IMDB backs me up on the fact that it was said to Cleve Jones. :-P Enjoy your run, athlete."

and then ..........

"P.S. Cleve Jones wasn't his lover, it was the prostitute kid who went on to do the AIDS quilt. His lover was Scott Smith."

So, I publicly admit I was wrong. I'm also giving folks another opportunity to voice their opinions on the quote above. Come on, you can do it, post a comment dammit.