dry run

better than the dry heaves, i guess.  boot camp was not to be had today.  i was terribly worried about it, especially after a VERY light jog up the stairs to the train left me winded and feeling nauseated.  part of the problem is that my sleep schedule is messed up, so 10 am can come early.  the far worse and compounding problem is that my eating schedule is even more trashed than my sleeping schedule.

i have never been a breakfast eater.  well, unless you consider a candy bar or a hostess product breakfast.  my body either does one of two things upon awakening — demands some instant download of sugar, via something quick and dirty (donut, candy bar) or something less dirty, but still quick (orange juice, pancakes with syrup).   more often than not, i am not hungry when i wake up, and the thought of eating is terribly distasteful, especially combined when the 60/40 slight nausea prodding procedure of brushing my teeth.  terrible, but true.

so, that delays things for me a bit, which has always put me at school or at work, which means, i’m not seeing anything until lunch. i don’t know if my MANIC-depressive part kicks in and just goes into some sort of suppressed/hyper metabolism (don’t need to eat, running on some other energy source), but sometimes i can realize that i haven’t eaten until 2, 3, 4 pm — especially if i don’t have a job, haven’t left the house, have been on the internet all day.  that puts first eats in the afternoon, which puts dinner at 10 pm, sometimes … 12 am.

see? it’s messed up.  truly.  when i woke up this morning, i knew i had been hungry going to bed the night before, but i was feeling so gross that i didn’t really want to eat anything.  yet, i knew trying to do a boot camp on an empty stomach didn’t sound very good, either.  i forced myself to choke down 7/8ths of a clif bar, and drink some water.  this really didn’t help matters.  i still felt pretty gross. and it was hot.  i just didn’t want to be THAT girl.  who couldn’t do anything or who was all nauseated or whatever.  did i mention that i can never remember that i’m on meds where you’re not supposed to get all heated up in the sun?

but i did it. i got up, went, got on a bus cause i was feeling lazy, went down to wilson, saw i was going to be late if i kept on with the bus, got off, got on the red line and made it to oz park with time to spare. (i even double checked where oz park was on my phone, even though i was 99% sure.)  i walked around, didn’t really see anyone, walked some more … it would be delightful if i couldn’t find them.  but i thought … no, i should try.

i twittered the guy who i got the lead from and he told me the SW corner of oz park by the high school. i dutifully went to the SW corner of oz park by the high school.   nothing. i saw a lady who was dressed like she could do a boot camp.  she also intimidated the shit out of me.  i watched her watching some kids who appeared to be in a summer language camp. i thought she was waiting for them to leave because that’s where the boot camp was going to be.  clearly, she knew about this; she had done it before.

but she was just there to pick up her child.  she was not a part of the boot camp.  everyone i saw who i thought might be, broke some sort of tell-tale sign at the last second to indicate that they were not the people i might be looking for.  young man who seemed to be athletic and wearing clothes that might have been appropriate from far away — maybe waiting for some people?  nope, getting up with the older lady in a walker next to him who appeared to be his grandma.

there was a hill next to where i was standing. maybe i should walk up it and see if it was happening on top where i couldn’t see … i walked up … no one was up there, and i didn’t see anyone from my vantage point, either.  i stayed until 12:10 and then i decided to leave.  maybe god was doing for me what i already wanted to do for myself … letting me off the hook this time and letting me have a few days to figure out how to get some normal sleep and eat right in the morning so i wasn’t so decimated by this experience my first time out.

i decided that my original thought — to walk to the broadway bus and glide right home, practically to my front door — would be best served somewhere else. at least i could go walk to sheffield and up to belmont and get some exercise. that seemed reasonable.  i was doing so, and i ran into my friend who said she was headed to a meeting at the local alano club.  i thought she said she was going to a “weigh in” meeting … maybe this was where alcoholics checked in about their feelings?

she repeated herself … an *OA* meeting.  ahhhh.  funny, that. i was just saying (to myself) how i was having trouble getting a grip on how to eat and all of that.   alas, i was planning on walking to belmont and i had a bunch of stuff to do. maybe we could go to one together some other time.  she wished me well and i walked on … a couple of seconds later, i stopped.  what in the hell was i thinking? i couldn’t find the boot camp people, i decided to walk to belmont, i just *happen* to run into a recovery friend, she’s going to this random OA meeting she normally doesn’t go to, invites me along, and i … TURN HER DOWN?  hmm. seems like i was ignoring god big time.

i turned around and went back. it was a super small meeting — three other people besides me.  but it was good for me to be there and read step one from their literature and know that i really need help with my eating.  i don’t really know why i can’t figure out how to get in three meals a day at 8 years sober and 36 years old, but i don’t.  so, i guess i just need to start from there.  and appreciate today’s dry run for what it is. practice.

progress, not perfection, i’m told.  and i just have to go with that today.

3 thoughts on “dry run

  1. if you ever hookup w/ the bootcamp folks again, make pasta at 10 at night

    never mind the anti-carb camp, if you are going to workout for an hour, you need to eat

    pancakes aren’t a horrible solution, but the more whole grain the better and try to find some real maple syrup

    and since when are newspaper and forensics sports?

  2. they’re not. we could get academic letters. i can’t remember what convo that’s even from, but i remember i was being a smart-ass anyway.

    pasta at 10 at night sounds fabulous, actually.

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