Life Lessons

For my mental health, I'm trying to stay off Facebook unless it's to read Camino-related entries or posts from one of my favorite groups, Silent Book Club. (This group reads an insane amount, and the members are anything but silent about opinions and recommendations. I thought I read a lot, but I'm on the low end of the bell curve in this group.) Also, the irony of posting this to my Cathy Shows Up Facebook page is not lost on me.

As I've mentioned, there are a plethora of groups related to all things Camino de Santiago, and I follow several of them. What to pack, shoe recommendations, how far to walk, where to stay, how to find someone to walk with, which airport to fly into, how to sew patches on your backpack, to bring makeup, trekking poles vs not, fanny pack, water bottle vs hydration pack, best bra, fastest-drying underwear, socks - well, you get the idea. Pretty much anything and everything. But one of the groups had a post by a woman, Kay Newton, about what she learned by walking the Camino. I listened to her almost-hour-long video and actually took notes. In reviewing these notes, I realized that they are lessons for life, not just walking several hundred miles in Spain. (If you're interested in reading her story or listening to her podcast, click here.)

What I learned, in no particular order:

- I can't control the weather, but I can control how I react to it. Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best. And since I've read the forums, I have a rain jacket, poncho that fits over me and my pack, rain cover for my pack, and a warm fleece to wear under this all in case it's wet and cold. Although I really hope to be walking in shorts and a tank top...

- Pare my kit down to the essentials, since I have to carry everything. In my case, an eyebrow pencil might be an essential since it looks like I have no face otherwise. But seriously, have you ever carried a hurt or a grudge that just got to be too much work to drag along? I have, and it was such a relief to just let go.

- It's not just the Big Goal, but it's all the steps involved too. To me, that's another way of saying it's not about the destination, but the journey, which is something I told our kids when they were little and whining about how far the trip was to Grandma's. (Seriously, try to keep three little kids entertained for nine hours one way. The six-hour trip to visit Nana was much easier.)

- Listen to and respect my body. It will tell me when I need to stop and take care of it. See my previous post about physical therapy, or check this out:

Last week

I went on a nice 6.2 mile walk with my friend and his dog. Kirk's legs are way longer than mine, the route was hilly, AND I was wearing my hiking shoes. I could feel a blister forming but did I stop to take care of it? You know the answer. I came home and told Dwight, in the immortal words of Leslie Knope, "Everything hurts and I'm dying." Next time we do this trail, I am wearing my running shoes and pre-taping where I know will be a problem.

- Enjoy the moment. Don't wait for joy; find something to be grateful for in the present. (In my notes I accidentally spelled it "greatful", which seems to fit.)

- Breathing! Especially when walking up mountains! Deep breaths calm the system down. Find your rhythm. This is actually one of the things I'm working on at PT, taking full breaths instead of the "fight or flight" shallow chest breathing.

- GOYA. This might be my new favorite acronym! It stands for "Get Off Your Ass" - not speaking for anyone but myself, but I know I can do this more.

The author of the video messaged me and asked if I had any questions. I told her the message would be so helpful for planning my September Camino, but it is basically a Life Lesson. She told me I got it (teacher validation! yay me!), and that all the answers are in front of us every day, no matter where we are. I love that.

This seems a fitting place to stop. I'll leave you with some calligraphy I posted on my Instagram account (@cathyboll) several months ago that seems to fit here.

Okay, it's a paraphrase, but you know if the Buddha was alive today, he would totally say it

Buen Camino!

Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes (knees and toes)...

...eyes and ears and mouth and nose, head and shoulders, knees and toes (knees and toes.)

[Extra credit if you sang this pre-school song in your head.]

So as I mentioned in my last post, I was prescribed physical therapy to help with some hip pain I was experiencing. I was specifically sent to Dan Miller at Healing Motion Physical Therapy because, as my orthopod said, if he can't fix me, no one can. He would analyze my gait and he takes a holistic approach to healing. As much as I don't hesitate to pop the NSAIDs, I really don't like taking pills. I sat down with Dan at my first appointment and we chatted about what was going on and what I wanted to get out of treatment, namely to be able to walk the Camino. I mean, I was going to do it no matter what, but as walking up the two stairs from our garage into our house killed, I wanted a little help for those upcoming days of >900 feet of elevation change. That's right, OVER 900 FEET OMG.

Now I am no stranger to PT. I've had four knee scopes, each one requiring a few weeks of therapy, an elbow scope (another few weeks), and rotator cuff repair (five MONTHS). These are just the post-op conditions; there have been a few other times for other issues. I am as strong and healthy as a horse (hardy peasant stock, you know), but as Dwight says, orthopaedically I'm a lemon. And I'm not even a little bit offended because it's true.

So I went in figuring he'd do an exam, check my range of motion, see what makes me say "OW!", measure whatever it is they measure, give me a few exercises, pat me on the head, and send me home. Three weeks max and bam we're done. Yeah, it was none of that. I came home and when Dwight asked how it went, all I could say was that it was like no other PT appointment I'd ever had. It was a cross between physical therapy, massage therapy, meditation, chiropracty (not a word but you get the idea), counseling, and I don't know -  magic? He watched me walk, and then he had me watch me walk, which was only slightly behind trying on swimsuits in the Things-You-Don’t-Want-To-See-In-A-Giant-Mirror category. Dan basically looked at all the pieces to see how my body is working and where the weaknesses are to be causing my hip to hurt. He talked about the body, mind, and spiritual sides of healing and how they're all connected. He could help my hip stop hurting, but without fixing what was causing it to hurt in the first place, it would only be temporary. He's teaching me very slight specific movements, really just the initiation of that movement, that help with strengthening. Dwight calls them my "mind exercises", which I'm sure is what they look like to him.

I'm not doing a very good job at explaining, but after several weeks of help, I can sleep on my side without my hip screaming, I can stand up to put on my underwear (seriously, it was THAT bad), I can walk upstairs without a handrail while carrying a basket of laundry, I've taken several hikes with my pack, and can do all my daily activities with hardly ever needing to take drugs.

I'd be lying if I said everything is rainbows and unicorns all the time. We still buy Costco quantities of Aleve. I think about how I walk and sit and move. My promising basketball career is over; squatting to dribble and move laterally while playing with my favorite four-year-old made my hip angry. I still occasionally wake up in the middle of the night, and sometimes it hurts to hike the big hills. But compared to how I was at Christmastime, well, let's just say I'm a million times better. (Okay, maybe a hundred...) I have a few more appointments scheduled so I don't feel like a Jenga tower, waiting for that one piece to be pulled out and have everything collapse. Maybe Dan will fix my golf swing - or who knows, maybe he'll give me one.

The next time I see him I will tell him I am writing this post. I want to get his okay to use his name and information. If anyone in Omaha is looking for physical therapy, I got a guy. Seriously, when I win the lottery, not only am I getting shares in NetJets and a personal chef, but I am going to go see Dan for regular tune-ups.

[Edit: Dan said by all means to share his info; he has a pay-it-forward, or rather heal-it-forward philosophy. That is, share with others what has helped me. Click here to be taken to the website. And by all means, call if this is something you can use. Now I need to go reread all my posts since 2012 in case he reads this (Hi, Dan!) and finds out that as good an actor as I am, this little corner of my world is where I don't keep the crazy in the closet.]

Buen Camino!

The Universe is Conspiring

My last post was about when I decided to do the Camino de Santiago; this one is about the universe telling me it’s the right choice.

Yep. Google image of Magic 8 Ball.

There are several different Facebook groups about the Camino: for slow walkers, for women, for Americans, for people who do long hikes - you get the idea. Any and all questions are asked and answered. I'm usually a quiet lurker, but I had a question that I couldn’t find the answer to, namely what to do with my US passport, drivers license, stash of euros (not just daily amount), credit/debit card - all the things you just can’t lose. I got all kinds of answers from a security pouch you wear around your neck, money belt, pickpocket-proof pants, fannypack, crossbody bag, sleep with it under your pillow, sleep with it at the bottom of your sleeping bag, put it in a ziplock and bring it into the shower, you get the idea. But the best thing was that one of the respondents noticed I was from Omaha, and SHE is  from Omaha and had walked the Camino the year before, and maybe did I want to meet and chat? I couldn’t say yes fast enough! Kathy sounds as organized as I am (maybe even more so) and generously shared all her files with me: packing list, alberques, distances walked, immunizations to get, travel insurance info, etc. I have had some questions since then and she has answered 'em all. It's so nice to make new friends at my age. And her pictures! I will be having my own to share in six months, but hers were beautiful!

Then for Christmas, Dwight gave me a neck pillow that he had seen that he thought would be good for a trans-Atlantic flight, along my very own headlamp in case we want to start out early in the morning to beat the heat. So incredibly thoughtful, and I don't feel like a dork at all.

Next, my sister and brother-in-law came to my mother-in-law's funeral in North Dakota at the end of December (because nothing says vacation like a funeral and -37 degrees.) I was in their room and got a beautiful gift from Tom. This guy:

St. James the Greater and some Buddhas - because everyone can use a little serenity

He had given one to Jeanie as well, since we'll be visiting the remains of Saint James at the Cathedral in Santiago de Compostela. And he told me to quit calling it it an action figure. Seriously though, it is one of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received.

Next: I have been having some pretty severe hip pain since the middle of December, so much so that I tried to not let the kids see me walk upstairs when everyone was home at Christmas because I didn’t want to alarm them. I couldn’t hide the limp though - if you're old enough to remember the TV show The Real McCoys, picture Walter Brennan as Grandpa and you get the picture. After several weeks of this I went to see a good hip guy, and when my X-rays were “unremarkable” except for some mild arthritis, he prescribed PT. I asked him who he recommended and he said there are so many good therapists, just pick one close to me. Then he said, “Wait a minute,” pulled out his phone and wrote down the contact info for the guy who he said, “If he can’t fix you, nobody can.” That is the subject for a whole different post, though, so stay tuned!

I was walking around Lake Zorinsky on a gorgeous day about a month ago, wearing my pack for the first time that I’m taking on the trip. Two women stopped me and asked if I was training for something, since they were training for a three-day hike in Havasu. I explained what I was doing and one of the ladies said it was on her bucket list and was so excited to hear about it. What are the chances?!

Dwight snapped this unbeknownst to me. Figuring out how to tighten the straps.

Oh yeah

The last sign from the universe is quite literally a sign:

Follow the yellow arrows

I saw this on a walk in our neighborhood, and while I know they're just markings from the utility company for underground cables, yellow arrows (along with scallop shells) have been used for centuries to guide pilgrims on their Way to Santiago.

Buen Camino!
👣🚶‍♀️🎒

A Movie Changed My Life

source: Pinterest

Several years ago there was a thing going around Facebook where you wrote 25 Things About Me. One of my friends wrote that a book changed her life. As much as I read, I don't think there is any one book I can point to. However, there is this movie...

A few months ago I was in Chicago and got to spend some time with my sister Jeanie. She was making dinner and, like any good guest, I was sitting at the kitchen island drinking wine and keeping her company. We were talking about how much we both like to walk, and she told me about her sister-in-law who had passed away about a year ago, and how she had always wanted to do this pilgrimage. She started talking about this movie she and her husband had seen about it, written and directed by Emilio Estevez and starring his father, Martin Sheen. I had never heard of the movie, and only very vaguely knew of the pilgrimage route, no doubt dredged from somewhere in the cobwebby attic of my Catholic schoolgirl brain. The movie is The Way, and the pilgrimage route is the Camino de Santiago.

My own copy!

We watched the movie that night, and it may have been the wine talking, but I turned to Jeanie and said, "I think we can do this". Now keep in mind that two hours prior, this idea didn't even exist in my universe. Tom then reminded us that the accommodations are not the Marriott. All you have to do is walk 12-15 miles a day carrying everything you need for the trip, stop at villages and towns every few miles, eat good food, AND drink Spanish wine.

If you want the whole history you can google it and read pages and pages and pages, but here it is in a nutshell. There are several pilgrimage routes, with the destination being Santiago de Compostela in northwest Spain. The Cathedral is where the shrine (and remains) of the apostle Saint James the Greater are located, and has been a pilgrimage route since the 9th century. The route we are looking at is the Frances (or French) Way. It begins in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port on the French side of the Pyrenees, covers about 800 km (500 miles to us), and traditionally takes about 35 days. That is a LOT of walking. (I'd say it's a shit-ton of walking, but hey, this is a religious destination.) While I would love to do the entire route, and actually am planning on it for when I turn 65, next fall Jeanie and I are going to do the last 111 km of the route,  from Sarria to Santiago. 100 km is the minimum that can be done to earn a Compostela, which is a certificate saying you walked The Way. I'm pretty sure that people who walk the full 800 km might feel a little cheated because they get the same certificate.

If you know me personally, you can imagine that I'm pretty much researching this little journey to death. One quote I read that has stuck with me is that your Camino begins when you decide to do it. I have hiking shoes. I've been walking a LOT (okay, a shit-ton, because this is in Nebraska and not Spain and I can say it). While I don't have the backpack that I'm going to be carrying yet, I am carrying my North Face day pack loaded with weights to get used to carrying everything I will need on my back. (And apparently right now that is some  dumbbells wrapped in beach towels...)

Source: Pinterest

Another thing I read is that each person setting out on this journey needs to decide WHY they are doing it. In the movie, there were as many reasons as there were pilgrims. And despite going to Catholic high school, I do not consider myself a religious person. For me, this trip is so far outside of my comfort zone, it may as well be - well - on the other side of the world. There is a place on the Camino where you are to bring a rock or other memento from home, and leave it behind, as well as what you want to rid yourself of. Jeanie and I will begin our Camino after this place, but I know we will find our own spot to leave our rocks. Prior to that, I will be putting quite a bit of thought into what I want to leave on that path in Spain.

Another reason is that I want to prove to myself that I can do it; that I can do hard things. I was trying to explain this to my friend Debbie, and she said, "But don't we do hard things every day?" Debbie, if you are reading this - thank you. I know I don't need to go on a long multi-day hike thousands of miles from home to prove this, but I need to prove this to the chubby girl from Aberdeen, South Dakota, who never really felt good enough for anything.

So I will be showing up (just like the blog name!) in your news feed more frequently - this blog has its own Facebook page if you're interested in following.

Buen Camino!

Head Up, Wings Out

Nine years ago, I crashed my bike (sounds so much better than "I fell off my bike") and needed major shoulder reconstruction. During the extensive rehab, I said to myself that I would never ever complain about working out again. Y'all know where this is going, don't you?

Over the winter, I've been Pinteresting great workouts and motivational quotes, which it turns out is actually easier than doing the real thing, and evidently doesn't count. After having to buy new jeans because all my old ones hurt, I decided to get with the program. You know the program; we all know the program: eat sensibly, drink more water and less alcohol, and get more movement in. I'm blaming wasting time on social media on my slacking off in these areas, and yes, I know it's ironic that I'm posing this on social media. Welcome to 2017.

I've been dutifully doing my two-mile neighborhood run-but-mostly-walk (RBMW), but this past weekend I decided to ramp it up and do a 4+ mile route. The weather was gorgeous, the first two miles were great - probably because I had decided in advance that it would be a long one. I was remembering training for the half-marathons, and was actually considering maybe doing one this fall and wondering who I could talk into doing it with me. And then shortly before mile three when I was faced with a hill that made me want to cry.

(Funny story: many years ago I said I would help my son's then-fiancée now-wife train for the bike part of her first triathlon. The route was a VERY HILLY semi-rural road north of town - State Street, for you Omahans. While I could ride pretty good distances on the flats, I wasn't - and still am not - good on hills. I actually needed to get off my bike and lie down in someone's front yard for a bit. Poor Aly, she acted cool but I know she was afraid that this overweight red-faced mom in spandex was going to die on her watch.)

Back to this weekend. When faced with the hill, I stopped, bent over with my hands on my knees, and swore at my husband who was golfing so I couldn't call him to come get me. I sucked it up, buttercup, and put one foot in front of the other and made it home. I totally would've gotten in the car with a complete stranger, though, if someone would've offered me a ride. Just kidding but not really (JKBNR). Seriously though, after lunch, a shower and a nap, it did feel really good to get out there and work. Maybe I'll look into that Des Moines half after all. Or a 5K.

Oh, and the title of this post? I've seen it on some running blogs, and it's my new mantra.

Head up, wings out!

Work vs "work"

This post comes as a result of a conversation I had the other week with my favorite DIL, who this summer will be moving yet again to a new house and new town. This remarkable woman had two babies in 18 months, and as anyone out there who is a mom, knows just how much work that is. (My closest two were 24 months apart, so I didn't really even know). And did I mention that she and our son did it all halfway across the country from any family? No support system except the friends they made? Yeah. Tough.

Since the boys were born, she has been staying home and being the primary caregiver. Our son, like his dad, has been and will be somewhat absent due to the requirements of their profession. Since the kids are moving this summer to a more permanent location, I asked Aly if she would be "working outside of the home" (a phrase I hate, but don't know of a better one). It was a bad time to ask, because they're planning a cross-country move with two toddlers, but it did get me thinking.

I thought of what I did "outside of the home" versus what I did as a volunteer, and OMG. We need SAHMs. (Side note: one of Emily's classmate's moms was in med school when they were in elementary school, and whenever this girl was assigned to ANYTHING, all the other moms just sighed because we knew we'd be bringing the donuts / baking the cookies / chaperoning the class trip / whatever was assigned).

So when we got home from Cleveland, I thought I'd make a list. Here are the jobs I've actually been paid for, starting when I was a kid:
   Babysitting
   Waitress
   Short order cook
   Deli prep (got really good at peeling potatoes and shelling hard-boiled eggs)
   Retail - JCPenney fabric department (and I don't sew!!!)
   Dishwasher in the microbiology labs in college (6 liter Erlenmeyer flasks full of gunk? No prob.)
   Medical technologist / clinical chemist - both as an intern, and then as a real job when I graduated
   Museum shop (retail)
   Inventory specialist (retail)

Now for the interesting part. And I'm not talking about "how much would you have to pay a person who stays home to raise her/his children" - you know, cook, chauffeur, nurse, organizer, house cleaner, blah blah blah. There are the actual volunteer positions (i.e. "jobs") I held since Emily, our oldest, started first grade:
   Girl Scout troop leader, Emily, 5 years, including summer science/math club
   Cub Scout den leader, Alex, 2 years
   Daisy, Girl Scout troop assistant troop leader, Erin, 1 year (maybe 2?)
   General manager for 2 select (read: TRAVEL) soccer teams
   Olympic Development Program (ODP) boys' coordinator
   School coordinator / representative for Gifted/Talented program
   Art Mom program - volunteer and then coordinator
   Room mom
   Math tutor for gifted program
   Reading tutor for kids who needed extra help (Arthur the aardvark still holds a special place in my heart)
   Class trip chaperone - trips TNTC
   Prom decorator - we're not talking high school gym here
   Prom / homecoming volunteer / chaperone (thanks for being elected to JCB and SCB, Erin!)
   Vacation Bible School - okay, only one summer for that
   Soul Seekers (church high school choir) cookbook - coordinated and published
   Church garage sale
   Museum shop volunteer (when the Joslyn lost its funding for actually hiring people in the shop)

I know there's more. Throw in attendance/carpooling to soccer, basketball, gymnastics, baseball (mercifully only one summer!), cross-country, track... Three kids, three schedules. And as I mentioned, my husband wasn't much help - not by choice, but by profession. Don't get me wrong - he could rock babies and change diapers with the best of them, but, let's just say, I think our kids' teachers might have thought I was a single parent. Our kids' teammates parents wondered about the absent dad. And our neighbors absolutely knew how strong I was since I was the snow-shoveler, gardener, and lawn-mower. And speaking of neighbors - thank God for you and carpools!

Dwight always said that I had the hardest job. And not just me - any SAHM. Anyway, in a roundabout way, this is my salute to all of you! You rock!!!

WHOLE 8.5

Before I start writing today, notice that this post will be twice as many as I wrote ALL of last year - and it's only February! (Look at me, pretending people read this. Hi kids! Hi sisters! Hi Heather!)

So I started my Whole30 on January 1. If you're not familiar with the program, it is 30 days of eating healthy protein, fats, vegetables, and fruit. No bread, no grains, no alcohol, no dairy, no added sugar, or legumes. There are other rules to the program, but these are the basics. It wasn't hard to follow, except that I kept feeling progressively worse. Our daughter Emily was doing her third Whole30, and I asked her if this was normal. It felt like a cross between the worst labor pains ever and being kicked in the stomach. After five days of this, I went to the doctor. And except for regular check-ups or injuries, I NEVER go to the doctor. After several hours of uncomfortable medical exams, I was diagnosed with diverticulitis. It perhaps had nothing to do with the Whole30 except temporally, but I'm not taking chances with that much fun again. So while I was waiting for my Cipro to be filled, I walked to the coffee shop next door and had a scone and a latte. Mmm...dairy AND gluten...

Now that all my intestinal flora has basically been killed off, I am back to normal. January 23rd was the first day I felt like myself. And how do I know this specifically, you ask? Well, since last September, I have been keeping a bullet journal, which is a consolidation of all the lists I had scattered all over the house and in my mind. And on the 23rd, I marked that I was starting to feel good.

So even though I didn't do a Whole30, I watched what I ate and tried to keep the not-so-good-for-me foods to a minimum. Not absent, mind you, just not with the reckless abandon that characterized the holiday season. And what do you know? 5.5 pounds gone. Now I KNOW I'm more than a number on a scale, but that number needed to be just a little lower or I'd have to buy all new clothes. While I've always worked out, after one particularly tough workout, I realized I had been phoning it in for awhile. I've since amped up the pace a bit, both cardio and weights.

The funny thing about exercise is that I never regret it - when it's over. But when I'm feeling not quite myself, the last thing I want to do is work out, even though I know it will make me feel better. Talk about a Catch 22! (Side note: Harry Connick, Jr was guest-hosting on the Today Show yesterday, and he said that he hasn't missed a day of working out in seven YEARS. Dang.)

I did keep one part of Whole30: I have not had a drink since New Year's Eve, so except for the champagne we had at midnight that night with our friends, this girl has been dry all of January. It's the longest I've gone without alcohol since I was pregnant with Erin, and that was in 1988. I had wanted to make it a month and I did, although I admit I was tempted last night. Today, not so much. I'll keep you posted on that front. Weird, arbitrary rules, I know.