{be one with the turtle, be the turtle}

If you have been following my blog you may remember awhile back prior to surgery I posted my first "I'm pissed off at cancer" post. This post may be similar. You have been warned. It may sound a little "woe is me"or a little pity party-ish, so be it. This was my day and thank goodness this isn't my everyday. This is the stage of grieving, recovery, whatever it is that I am in. How many stages are there? I don't know, I feel like I am at stage three of 47.

Today while on my way to the gym I side tracked and went for a little drive. One because I had time to kill and, two, I didn't want to go to the gym. So I did what I have been doing more frequently as of late, I put off walking into the gym as long as I can. Sometimes I drive around, take the long way to the gym or I sit in the parking lot waiting until the last possible minute. Going to the gym is killing me right now. Our gym used to be this amazing sanctuary for me full of steel bars, heavy plates to throw around, rings to throw yourself around in, a pull-up complex to bust out chest-to-bar pull ups, etc. Now it is just an "in your face" reminder of what I can't do. Movements that seem a far off dream. I KNOW I should be seeing all the things I CAN do, but right now I'm just seeing red. Of course, I do know that someday I will be able to do all of this again just because I imagine/hope someday my body will feel "normal". Even though everyday it feels like it never will. I told a friend this last week and I started crying. But, honestly I can't see that day. I can't even imagine getting there, it is so far away I can't imagine that day. My subconscious must know I will get there because I had a dream last week that I was doing chest-to-bar pull ups. So I drove around today just thinking about this and all of a sudden this thought popped into my struggling head, "breast cancer has crushed my spirit" and I started to tear up. I didn't want cancer to do that, but right now it feels like it has and damn it if Mother Nature didn't jump in the mix and make it gloomy and rainy today. Thanks for that.

Yesterday we had the first WOD for CrossFit Lethbridge's 1st Annual Collaborative Challenge. A friendly competition featuring one workout/week for four weeks to post your score and compete against athletes from a handful of CrossFits. There were three different levels you could compete at Rx/Scale #1/Scale #2. Every time I thought about going to the gym yesterday I started crying. I DID NOT want to participate. I waited until the very last minute to decide if I was going or not. I know that during these four weeks I won't even be able to do the #2 scaled workout. This bugs the hell out of me, sad I know. REALLY, I KNOW!!! I can't participate at ANY level. I know the important thing is that I am moving right now. But, that doesn't even feel good right now. All of this (not being able to perform how I want to, being limited, feeling so bad about it, not being rational) makes me sooooo mad right now and it makes me want to punch breast cancer right between the eyes. Thanks for taking away something I love so much and make me fight and claw my way back to trying to find that love again. I just may sit out the rest of these competition WODs. I've been thinking about it. The workouts weigh too heavy on me right now. Maybe a little more equipment at home so I can do more workouts at home in private. Maybe a little creative therapy at my sewing machine instead. Maybe a little more vodka and whiskey in my daily routine. Maybe wine. ;) Maybe cutting a deal with Father Time. I haven't quite decided what would dull the frustration. Thank goodness for my husband, gym community and coaches or I wouldn't be going to the gym at all.

Last week I got this card from my new friend, C.

Immediately I loved the picture of the turtle with what could be her little turtle boobies wrapped in an ace bandage. Inside was a witty note, which I have come to love about C, and the following Hallmarkism: "It's not the speed that matters. It's the getting there." The week prior to receiving this card I had been telling her how my biggest struggle is with my impatient nature. I've never been one for patience. Big flaw when you have a long road to recovery in front of you and the end seems nowhere in sight. Day-to-day feels like an eternity while time flies by for everybody else. Much like when you are pregnant and everybody can't believe that you are already eight months along when you feel like you are barely nearing the end of an elephant's 22 month gestation period. Will. It. Ever. End? Of course, it will, just not soon enough. Never soon enough. So, she read this card and immediately thought of me and my struggle with patience. I recite this little quote to myself many times throughout the day. I haven't yet been able to fully embrace it, but I am trying and I want to SO badly. So from here on out I will wake and start my day with visions of myself as a turtle. :) Be the turtle, be the turtle, be the turtle. My new mantra. Maybe even start to imagine that fine hard turtle shell and allowing myself to tuck myself inside it when I feel like I need a break from all of my "stuff" that sometimes feels like too much. A little mental break inside my cozy turtle shell. I have to say that darn little shell is a fine place to get stuck, too. So many times I feel like a turtle that cancer has mockingly put on it's back to sit there, stuck in one place, struggling to get upright and see the world the right way. Luckily, I have friends and family and, somewhere deep inside, my own determination to get myself flipped over and able to move forward. I'm sure that day is coming soon where I can see the world right-side-up and start moving forward at a slow, yet steady pace.

"It's not the speed that matters. It's the getting there". . . Amen!

Totally random because this post needs to end on a light note. Two of my favorite words because they are just fun to say: trifecta and wonky. I told you! Totally random! :) Also, I started this post early this afternoon. After blogging and ranting and raving and venting I actually feel a little better. The therapy of a blog. :)