Archive for December, 2012

Sunday, November 14, 2010

I’m still at Macy’s and Ceecee wants me to put in my two weeks notice. I would like to, and will probably have to because of Thanksgiving, but I have to admit – the extra money is nice. We are going to Chicago over Thanksgiving break from school and this will be one of the most important stops on the restoration tour. If Macy’s won’t let me have the time off, I’ll have to quit. If they do let me, I may stay until Christmas.

My working two jobs means we have less time together, but we seem to make more of the time we have than we ever did before. Maybe it’s because we appreciate what we have so much more now. It’s somewhat true that you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. We are both really motivated now not to take each other for granted.
I sell furniture and it’s really dead in our department a lot of the time. That means I have a lot of time just to think. That’s good and bad. It’s good in that it’s not a stressful job and I can use some of the time I’m on the clock to meditate and work on healing and continuing to grow and change. My therapist gave me some breathing and meditation exercises to do and they really help.

It’s also bad because I do have so much time to think, so I find my mind going back to the pain of our past and I’m sometimes borderline obsessing over what happened and the regrets I have. I find myself dreading certain songs being played and I have to constantly re-direct my thoughts to the present and the joy we’re living now.

Today, I was thinking about it all and I realized that when I was all messed up in the past, the love of my life was already there with me. I thought I needed to go looking for something, but I already had it all right from the start. I questioned Ceecee’s love for me for so long and I convinced myself that it couldn’t last forever. Now I see that her love was always true and I had everything I wanted and needed all along.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

We signed up for a cardio-kickboxing class at our gym. Last night was the first class. We feel like we’re in a rut and have kind of plateaued in our training, so we thought this would be a way to break out of that and be pushed to do some new things.

The instructor is this young girl who used to be one of the “sugar bears,” our local university’s version of the “Laker girls.” She has a fun personality, but she can do things that I can’t ever imagine being able to do, so the class was definitely a challenge. I’m pretty sore today, but this will be good for us.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Had my MRI yesterday. Now we wait for the results. Depending on what it shows, it could either mean surgery or rehab. I just want to get it fixed, so I can do the things I want to be able to do. I don’t want surgery, but I do want to get better.

After the marathon, I thought Ceecee would be really wiped. I also thought she’d be ravenously hungry. Turned out neither was true, which was both good and bad. I’ll explain.

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it in this blog, but I’ve been a wine columnist and freelance food and wine writer since 2004. The wire service that used to run my weekly wine column succumbed to the poor economy and the general demise of print media two years ago, so I’ve just been doing some local stuff and freelancing ever since.

There are a couple of local publications that have me doing fairly regular stories, and this past weekend was one of them. Ozarks Public Television has a big yearly event here that I cover as a wine writer, and this year, I got my editor to agree to let Ceecee go also as a food writer, since she’s been to culinary school and used to cook in a big resort near Branson.

On Friday night, they had a dinner at one of the better restaurants in town. Then, on Sunday afternoon, they had their big food and wine celebration at a convention center downtown. This was the same day as the marathon, so we left there around noon and the food and wine event was to run from 2-5 pm. I figured that Ceecee would either be dead on her feet and wouldn’t enjoy it, or she would be starving and would eat and drink everything.

In the end, she was neither, but we enjoyed the event. I was glad for Ceecee to get to be there and share in the food and drink. Now she’s cooking at the loft and playing Jack Johnson on the stereo. Tonight we’re watching “Julie and Julia,” one of our favorite food movies.

Sunday, November 7. 2010

I wanted to be part of the marathon somehow. I didn’t want to just be sitting in a chair somewhere along the route and hoping to make eye contact when she went by. This started out as such a big deal and she trained so intensely for several months.

Ironically, after we got back together, she has trained a lot less and she even said recently that actually running the marathon isn’t so important now. She’s still going to do it, and I wanted to be there in some capacity, so I volunteered to be a traffic director at one of the intersections.

They put me at about the 11 mile mark, so I saw her not quite halfway through. I got a chance to jog over alongside her and encourage her for a hundred yards of so before going back to my spot. She said she was doing well and she had gotten in a little group of people from her Galloway training group and they were helping each other.

I brought my bike with me, so when the last runner had gone by and my responsibility was over, I headed out on two wheels to look for her on the course. I had no idea where she might be, so I rode to the finish and worked my way backward. I found her at around mile 21 and she was struggling. I could tell she was in pain, so I stayed with her, talking to her and trying to keep her mind off it.

I knew from working at a fitness center during college that if you talked with someone who was having a hard time working out, it would pass the time quicker and help them forget about how they were feeling. I figured it couldn’t hurt to use that strategy now and it worked. She still had to get through those last five miles and I just kept talking to her and riding along beside her.

We finally reached a sign that said “26 miles down, .2 to go.” We couldn’t see the finish line yet, but knew it was just ahead. About that time, Angie was waiting along the side of the street and she started running in her high heels and cheering Ceecee on. As we came around the corner, I let her go and cross the finish line by herself. It didn’t seem right for me to cross it, since I wasn’t a runner in the race. This was her victory, her moment, and it was for her alone.