Processing

Posted on June 15, 2013 by sticker1

In lieu of going to Utah last weekend, I went to Glacier National Park to sort my head out. Many thanks to my roommate Paul for following me into the woods, just to make sure I wasn’t alone. Everything in my previous post remains true. Losing the romance with Sarah continues to be an exercise in humility and gratitude.

Getting way out to get the big picture.

More lessons condense out of the ether:

The hard heartedness that I treat myself with is just as toxic to others as it is to myself. Indeed, its corrosive impact on others is probably the most obvious impact on my own life.
I said some terrible things to someone that I really cared about. Her criticisms were right. They can’t be taken back, but learning to forgive myself is one of the most important parts of the lesson.
I didn’t love her the way she deserved to be loved. To do that, I have to love myself first. I still have tremendous work to do.
Unconditional is a powerful word that I am only just learning the meaning of.

Sunsets remind us that the world rotates, and are a guaranty of sunrise.

Like everything else, the distance limits the impact and I find myself wanting to hurt. The album of our romance aches in my head, and I can’t stop listening to it. Her grace, smile, and innocence haunt me. I wonder if I was more in love with the idea of being in love than in love with her? Was I true to myself? Was I honest with her? It felt like it then, but now I’m not so sure.

“The common denominator in all your failed relationships is you.” (C.B.) I can’t change her mind, and even if I could it wouldn’t fix the problem. I have to start with the man in the mirror.

I reflect. The world reflects with me.

Here First

Posted on June 10, 2013 by sticker1

(Written in the moment, June 10, 2013. Posted after the fact)

I have another ex-girlfriend. The fact that relationship didn’t last longer, or result in more, feels like failure. My brother says it’s a good thing- I’ve been through the cycle, learned a lot, and managed to not end up marrying the wrong person. True… and it feels like hell.

If you hear about it, I’d rather you heard it here first. I said some stupid, insensitive, and downright mean things. Some damn stupid things. I said some things that I fucking wish I hadn’t. That I would take back if I possibly could.

There are some really terrible, immature, stupid parts of my personality. I don’t really understand them. I look forward to changing them with a new tenacity this summer.

She said we are different people. That we aren’t a good match. She is right- the difference is that she was more ready to love unconditionally that I was. That her heart is bigger than mine. I have all the same faults as the men I abhor. The difference is my willingness to work on them.

Change

Posted on June 7, 2013 by sticker1

I was supposed to head down to Utah again last night, but after a difficult telephone conversation it became clear that the motivation for going had changed, and I was not to go again. Sometimes people are different, and realizing that can be a sudden and unpleasant surprise. The morning after change is often when it is the hardest to swallow.

This post may be premature, but in my commitment to leading an examined life in this space, it would incongruous not to discuss the difficult bits. Some lessons:

Choose your words carefully- they can pack far more meaning than intended.
Never skip an opportunity to express gratitude.
Question your criticisms- they are less useful, less witty, and less wise than they may originally appear.
The power of compassion, and silliness, should not be underestimated.

Per the second item, I am grateful that the pain illuminates some dark, unnoticed corners of my personality. I am profoundly grateful to have been exposed to her joy, her wisdom, her compassion, and her energy, even for a short time. This time around, it is clear that this outcome was a product of my own word and actions, and I’m hurting for it. I have a lot of work to do on my manhood, and I look forward to it being a theme for the summer.

Easy Thankfulness.

Thank you, desert lady.

Portland #6: A Look Back

Posted on May 29, 2013 by sticker1

(written Sunday night)

Driving down I-84 into the Columbia River Gorge Friday night I felt my chest rise and breathe a little more easily. Portland feels like a stable vantage point to look back at the course I’ve plotted since the spring of 2011. A step back from the (suddenly insignificant) concerns I choose to carry in the day to day of Missoula.

Hello Oregon.

Life seems nice here. Maybe it’s the options for breakfast, but more likely it is the deep relationships that have already weathered time and distance. The bigness of the city reminds me of the smallness of my life, like my brother that reminds me not to take myself too seriously.

Mark and George. Trouble.

My foot is healing. I’m back in regular shoes, but walking with a limp. Workouts still aren’t a priority, and some of the nerve ends still aren’t firing correctly. Many cups of coffee and brilliant Portland food accompany a description of my life that plays on repeat, every two hours meeting a new old friend. David has an xtracycle that makes riding around town feel even more familiar (I still miss that bike). Being back here seems to lift the self imposed limits I’ve put on my life in Missoula.

Many cups of coffee.

A little too much fun?

I mostly made it back to spend some time with Mark and Kylee before they move to Philadelphia. Upon arrival, my priorities seemed to multiply, and I filled every possible minute seeing people. The farther I am from living there, the more I realize how that place affected my adult life. Thanks to everyone there that continues to support me, David for putting me up (with a real bed and everything), and George for putting up with me.

Barb, the Doctor, and Gleb (if he weren’t in Mongolia).

Addendum:

I’m excited to be back in Missoula. In many ways, this is the harder path, but there’s space here for consequence. Space to try and fail and success and explore. Maybe I didn’t challenge myself to take my Portland life to the next level, but it seemed obvious. I left to follow my journey, and I’m glad to come back here and find I’m still on it.

Morton’s Neuroma

Posted on May 14, 2013 by sticker1

I’m writing this in hopes of helping other people get more information on a debilitating foot condition called Morton’s Neuroma (warning, graphic photo below).

My left foot, working itself to oblivion.

In October of 2011 I spent 16 days riding a bicycle ~700 miles from Bogota, Columbia to Quito, Ecuador. Days in the saddle were long, hills were steep, and I wore trail runners for the utility of having around the town shoes. After moving to Missoula, I got back into a regular pattern of long trail runs, and shortly developed an annoying pain in my left foot. I had high deductible health insurance and a healthy distrust of western medicine, so I tried ice baths and acupuncture and strengthening exercises and anything else I could think of. No luck.

Spring 2012, more biking, less running.

I started biking more, and got away from running all together, until I found 5 Fingers. My toes splayed out wider, my calves got stronger, and I got back to running. Morton’s Neuroma describes damage to nerve tissue in the web spaces between your toes, and normally feels like shooting pains. I felt the pains strongly wearing normal closed toed shoes, but the 5 Fingers seemed to keep me pain free. In June of 2012 I fractured my second metatarsal after a 14 mile run in 5 Fingers. I saw a certified Podiatrist, he gave me a walking boot, and confirmed my symptoms as Morton’s Neuroma. Not my finest moment, but I didn’t have any trouble with the Neuroma for a while.

$10,000', Pintler wilderness. The day before this photo was taken, I fractured my second metatarsal.$

10,000′, Pintler wilderness. The day before this photo was taken, I fractured my second metatarsal.

I got back to running in 5 Fingers in September 2012, and even started to wear closed toed shoes with a substantial metatarsal pad in the footbed. Things seemed to get better, until they got worse. Real pain returned in October, and I went back to the podiatrist in November for a cortisone shot. This seemed to provide some substantial relief, but I wasn’t up to running, and by the time ice season rolled around in December, ice boots didn’t feel very good either. The podiatrist wasn’t even interested in the followup appointment, let alone giving me further options for treatment. I stumbled out of his office and hoped for the best.

I went to Australia in January of 2013 and wore flip flops and 5 Fingers for a month. I was pretty much pain free, and even got out for some longer running. I took closed toed shoes, and wore them on occasion, but I had fallen in love with the 5 Fingers, so I didn’t worry about it. Coming back to work in February and something flared up in my foot, and things turned ugly for real. While in Seattle, I happened to talk to a client that had had the same problems. I had avoided even thinking about another surgery on my left foot. The bunion I had removed in March of 2011 was enough to turn me off the idea. This guy though, said it was required and I was starting to get desperate.

Just not that fun.

I boot the walking boot back on after a tough construction job in the beginning of April and got the name of a good surgeon in town. Walking without the boot became purely impossible over the next week. The surgeon and I talked on April 30 and it didn’t take long for me to realize cutting things open is sometimes the best way to go. Last Friday morning, Dr. Heid cut a 1.25″ bag of seriously pissed off nerve tissue out of the top of my left foot.

morton neuroma, neuroma surgery specimen.

The perpetrator. Scale in centimeters.

I’m taking it slow and dreaming of running in the gorgeous evening light outside my window. A big thanks to the team at Northern Rockies Orthopedics, my lovely girlfriend Sarah, and the many different Missoulians that have come out of the woodwork to trade cars (Steph&Noah!), make meals (Krista&Nate), and generally make life easier (Meghann, Tess, Paul, Kim, and many more). I think life is going to be better this way.

Good company on my couch.

Lessons:

Don’t ignore the early symptoms. Toughing it out is a bad plan.
Don’t rule out the options. I’ve passed up more adventures than I’d like to admit in the last year, mostly because I didn’t really dig into dealing with the problem.
I’m still not sure there’s a way to avoid surgery, but I suspect early treatment is always better.
Dr. Heid suspects that my leg length discrepancy+an improperly adjusted touring bike probably put my feet over the edge with all the other abuse I’ve put on them. Get your bike fitted and make sure your body mechanics work. $300 bike fitting >> $3000 surgery.
The writing desk.

My Favorite Things

Posted on May 4, 2013 by sticker1

I remember when I was very young, my mom taught me to sing “My Favorite Things.” You might allow a single mom raising two kids and running a business would be tempted to complain sometimes, but I remember this song more than any complaints. In high school, I found the legendary John Coltrane cover of the same tune, and I think back to jamming out teenage angst on that 3/4 groove.

I’ve been feeling pretty out of my groove lately- my foot has me shut down, moving house has required heroic effort, and professional fulfillment seems frustratingly illusive. Coming home from the grocery store tonight though, I started to notice a few of my favorite things:

The way the sun dapples through the new crabapple tree outside the living room.

Sharing with people.

The way the sun and breeze dry my clothes in the Montana spring.

The visuals are easy, but stepping back there are plenty of others.
- I have people in my life that remember how wonderful I am, even when I don’t remember myself.
-That whether I see it or not, the sun rises every damn morning.
-and even when I’m not my best, other people are, and that inspires me.

What are your favorite things? Post to comments.

Try!

Posted on April 23, 2013 by sticker1

“Sometimes, you just gotta jump in with both feet and try your best.”

I was in over my head at work again today. Fortunately when I got home, I saw this from my friend Tom (spoiler- contains adult language, but will make your day). Click the link, it’s the point of the post…

Planning and organizing and teaching people about 700lb windows from Poland is hard, especially when you are 200 miles from home.

So difficult it was comic.

Huge props to the Dave and the crew at Chase Skogan Homes. Back to adventures soon.

stickthefeeling

"… let the baggage go."