I use my Voice and I type hard-to-express and hard-to-take emotions to someone important in my life. They fall into a void and I don't mind. I Spoke. That's all that matters.

I have reached my event horizon and am ready for the next chapter in my life. I am grateful for the previous chapter; it has been fulfilling on many levels even if it hasn't been fulfilling on the most important level. I have learned and grown beyond my imagining and I am ready to grow and learn more.

I am ready for fun with my son, growing my community, deepening friendships, making new friends, more running and more gym time, school, helping to lead and further develop a professional organization I am involved in. I am ready for transformation and a further evolution; I feel safest as I transform and evolve and learn and grow. I am ready to take charge of my life again, open myself to new possibilities.

I welcome the onset of autumn and, like the leaves preparing to fall, I am ready to let go.

Not that I'm doing any trail running this week or last, nooo! But at least the swelling has gone down. I'm left with a few bruises and residual pain. Man, that surgery really knocked me on my ass.

I think I'll try heading out for a hike or two this upcoming weekend; I've got Humphreys at the end of the month that I need to be prepared for! Then it's the Run'n'Roll 8k that I've done for the last four years. And this year, I'd really like to run the corn maze 5k I keep hearing about. We'll see how my training goes as far as Pemberton...I haven't registered yet, because I want to wait and see how my knee does with higher mileage. I got a few weeks of double-digit miles, and then nothing (due to the surgery). I want to see how things go this month (and maybe next) before I register.

So I may have mentioned in the past that I'd like to go back to school (for Geology). Well, due to the rather unconventional life I've led, I never attended college. At all. So I sort of have to start at the beginning. At 30! Yikes! But I figure better to start now than when I'm 40 or 50 or 60. I've held this 12-year dream to attend college for too long; it's time to make it a reality. The local community college has a fast-track two-year degree program, where I attend one class a week, year-round, allowing me to still work full-time and get a two-year degree in, you guessed it, two years! That's great. If I tried to still work full-time and attend school part-time, it would take a lot longer than that traditional classes. So I'm working on getting that started this week. But I have to do assessments before I can register for anything. I'm wondering how well I'll do.... After I get the two-year degree, I can transfer to the University of Arizona and obtain my four-year degree in Geosciences at that point. Also at that point, I can determine if I want to continue as a Graduate student, or enter the workforce (I want to be a park ranger), or well, whatever! But first - I need to tackle the first two years.

I tried going into work this morning. It didn't pan out so well. Oh, the pain! But I didn't want to take a Percoset at work (uh, high at work? no, thanks.), so I hit up Xoom Juice & the library with a pounding head before making it home to pop some pain meds and feel better.

And feel better I do. But man, these swollen cheeks are driving me batty. And no running sucks. And apparently, my bloody mouth leaked all over the place on Tuesday (I found blood droplets on the balcony outside my door, not to mention my sheets, towels & comforter!). The laundry is piled up to the ceiling. I'm down to my last set of PJs (although I think I still have a few clean pair of underwear). I have no desire to drag my sorry ass to the laundromat to clean things. I can barely lift the laptop up to my lap to type this post (speaking of which, is this all TMI? Will I regret this when my brain's on straight?!). But I did manage to shower this morning. And put some dishes in the dishwasher. And I think I emptied the cat litter last night.

I've been told (by my "hunky nurse") that although I was knocked out for the surgery, I cried the entire time. Chris was in the waiting room and could hear me. They had to give me more meds but that didn't stop the crying. Is that normal??? All I remember is falling asleep, hearing the doc say, "She needs more," then getting rolled out to the car, then climbing the damn stairs to my house (which I apparently flipped off), then vomiting. And vomiting some more. Yeah, that was fun.

At least the teeth are gone, though, so hopefully once I'm healed, it'll all be worth it. I just want the swelling to go down by Saturday, when I have to:
1. Register Ash for soccer (in person - what an impression!)
2. Meet a few single parents in person (for the first time ever, again - what an impression!)
3. Take Ash to a birthday party.

Will I have enough energy? Will I look okay? Geez louise, I sure hope so.

Brief recap (I only got pics from the last two days):
Journey to the Center of the Earth (in 3D!), shopping, swimming, welcome home party for a friend just back from a 3-month deployment to Peru, Tucson Botanical Gardens, Kitt Kittridge, lunch at Sauce, Battleship, getting rained out at the Annual Rendevouz of Gunslingers in Tombstone after eating lunch, watching a gunfight and wandering about town, playing at Chris's mom's house (ON Bear Creek!) in the creek (jumping, splashing, swimming, screaming), watching deer, finding a completely intact shed snakeskin, Lassie Come Home, La Salsa and lots of reading books.

Up next: wisdom teeth out Monday morning. Yikes.

Click on the photos to view larger sizes...

I went up Mt Lemmon yesterday and it was beautiful. A great hike, followed by pie. Mmmm...

Did my first spinning class on Saturday since the injury - it went well, although it kicked. my. butt.

My wisdom teeth will be removed next week. I'm not looking forward to that.

Here's some of what I've been working on:

I'm grateful that I'm able to run relatively twinge-free, especially this week, as things are - once again - rocky on the relationship front. I wasn't going to say anything, lest I sound like a broken record, but it's a big "thing" in my life right now that I'm struggling with, along with my yearly cycle of greater anxiety/depression in the summer months.

You know "SAD" (Seasonal Affective Disorder), where people get depressed in the winter when they don't see sunlight that often? I swear, I have the reverse. It's probably not a good thing that I live in the desert. Summers are that much worse. The anxiety and irritability drives me - and everyone around me - nuts. I'm guessing it's related to a PTSD anniversary, although due to my cloudy memory, I really have no clue. In May, the irritability starts, followed by heightened anxiety in June that builds throughout July. August is usually the worst month, although it's extended into September, and even October on rare occasions. Usually, once fall comes, relief comes with it. Give me clouds and trees and shade and cold any day over warmth and heat and sunshine.

I know, I'm weird.

Hey, I ran double-digit mileage last week! 10.3 miles. Yay! This week, it looks like I'm on track for just over 14 miles. I laid out my fall schedule yesterday, and I'm getting psyched. Because the knee is still slightly twinge-ing, I'm going to wait to register for Pemberton for another month or so. See if I can slowly increase my mileage without the twinge getting worse. *Fingers crossed!*

I like the determined feeling I get when I train. It gives me an outlet for my focus. It gives me a reason to get up and move my body (which in turn, makes me feel good). It gives me hope and reason for possibility and change...hey, sounds like Barack Obama :-)

Pi

Fuzzy (aka "Fuzz")

Chris & Fuzz sleep away a Saturday afternoon

Still have Pemberton 50k on Feb 14 2009 in mind.

And I figure it starts with just a few steps. A couple miles. Eventually, the steps will link together and I will finish 31 miles.

I'll be getting a CT scan and going to a neurologist to check up on my brain...make sure there's nothing wrong. I think it was just a major bonk and I need to take better care of myself - being very aware of my fueling and hydration needs, even when I'm not in major training mode. Which I can't wait for, by the way!

Ash and I have extended our family - by adopting two adorable kittens. Pi (my name for the black one) and Fuzzy (Ash's name for the - you guessed it - fuzzy multicolored tabby) are sisters and they are adorable. And loud (2 am - thumpthumpthumpthump as they chase each other across the house). And they get cranky when I spend the night at Chris's house. And they are currently curled up between Ash and me while I type and Ash watches Alvin & the Chipmunks (although Fuzzy keeps trying to walk on the keyboard, goofball).

Ash is about to go on a 12-day vacation with his grandmother to Michigan. I hope he has tons of fun. But I am going to miss him!!!! I will get my first 'long' run in while he's out. Now that Sabino Canyon is open again, I'll head up the road. It's been so long. I miss it.

I wake him up and we go; I forgo eating dinner so we can make it before they close. It's a relatively quick process - in and out in an hour-and-a-half - and my sleepy son is doing well. I feel sorry for him as we go to the nearest 24-hour Walgreens so I can fill my antibiotic prescription. I get to the counter and wait. And wait. And wait and wait some more. The pharmacists are all busy. I am worrying that it's 10 pm already and my son needs to be in bed and how long will it take to fill the prescriptions after they get them - but they won't get them because they are taking too damn long! I realize I am hungry and I open a granola bar that has been lurking in my purse. I eat a few bites as a pharmacist finally comes over to help me. She asks if I've been there before, and suddenly I know something is very very wrong.

I feel sick and I think I'm hyperventilating. I say so out loud, thinking this is very similar to an episode I had 15 years ago. I think to myself that if I can't catch my breath, I'm going to pass out. The world goes gray, then black, and I see a train rushing at me and I think there's a train wreck. I realize I'm dreaming and it's time to wake up and I bolt upright. There's a weirdly familiar guy looking at me, and I realize he's a pharmacist at...where was I? Walgreens? You mean Walgreens isn't part of the dream?

Ash - where's Ash! I panic, but he's right next to me, freaked out. I hear people running around, there are so many people here that weren't here a minute ago. They are asking me questions, giving me tissues, telling me how I threw myself backward from the counter rigidly as though I had a seizure and how I landed on my head and kept my eyes open the whole time. Someone is asking Ash if he wants to look at toys. Don't let my son leave!

The paramedics arrive and ask me to call someone to help with Ash. His dad is not answering his phone; neither is Chris. I'm scared for Ash, who is up too late and freaked out. The paramedics are insistent that I call someone - anyone - and I keep trying Chris, hoping he hears his phone - I know he's awake, he's preparing to leave for MI for 8 days the following morning. Finally he answers and relief floods my body.

Chris arrives in record time and the paramedics insist I go to the ER even though I don't want to. I know I didn't take care of my body today - I didn't eat enough. I know I've been running on fumes for the last four days, barely able to put one foot in front of the other as I moved my house and worked through intense deadlines and meetings. I know I have a infection raging inside my body.

Cody, one of the paramedics, asks me how I know Chris. I tell him he's my boyfriend and ask why he wants to know. Cody informs me that he plays soccer with Chris occasionally and comments on how good of a player Chris is. I laugh.

They hook me up to an IV on the way to the hospital and it hurts. I am scared for Ash, worried about my meetings the next day and really worried about Chris getting ready in time for his flight out the next morning.

I wait in the ER three hours (Ash gets to visit me once) before I'm finally told it'll be another six (!) hours before a doctor sees me. Screw this. I know what's wrong with my body and my son needs to go to bed and my boyfriend needs to pack. (Side note: If that's not a classic woman "must deny myself to take care of the family" then I don't know what is!) After a big emergency, someone finally comes down to see me about my request to leave, has me sign a waiver and asks me to keep someone around for the next 48 hours to make sure it doesn't happen again.

Finally, we leave. I get Ash to sleep around 1:30 am and I have a fitful night's sleep. This morning I have a meeting at 9 am, but I know I can't make it. I text a coworker, who jumps right in to cover me, and wait for Ash's dad Johnny to finally get all the messages we left on his phone the night before. I can't meet him at our normal meeting spot to exchange Ash; my car is still at Walgreens. Five minutes after our meeting time, I get the call. He comes over to my house to pick up Ash and offers to watch Ash this evening while I continue to recover.

Chris comes and gives me a ride to my car before he leaves. I'm tempted to ask the Walgreens manager for the surveillance tape so I can actually see what happened.

When I arrive back home, I discover two more caterpillars in my living room (one of which has created a hole in my carpet under a box - can anyone help me identify? I tried to upload the photo but it's not working) and realize my internet is still not working. I have one more meeting I need to attend and at least two hot deadlines to make today. I can't do it. All I want to do is lie down on my bed and rest my head. And so I do.

My coworkers and clients are gracious and understanding, for which I am grateful. I have a massive headache, but think that the reason I don't have a bigger goose egg on the back of my head is because I was wearing a plastic clip to hold my hair back and it shattered as I fell. That's two in one week, dammit!

Sigh.

How does one fill up seven days on the cheap?

With grandparents: we travel to Mesa to 1. attend a highway dedication as my last assignment before I'm officially set free for a week, and 2. stay at my parent's house for two nights, which includes lots of Papa/Ash time and tons of pool time (some with a multitude of cousins) and a run with my mama.

With camping: We wake up Friday morning at home and hit up Target to find a new cooler to replace Chris's broken one, but all the coolers at Target have wheels and that is just not acceptable. Then we try to pack my car. It's too small. Chris has a Suburu Outback, so we unpack my car and repack his car. We finally head out of town an hour after we wanted to.

Up US 191 we go, through Safford and up up up to the mining towns of Clifton and Morenci, where we find a taco shop on the side of the highway and eat lunch. Then we stop at an overlook to view the largest open-pit copper mine.

Continuing up up up this crazy winding highway, we start smelling gas in the car and start worrying. Pulling over at a rest stop, Ash and I check out a scary spider and Chris tries to figure out what's wrong with the car - nothing that we can tell.

A storm is approaching. We spend the next hour-and-a-half playing 20 Questions while Chris navigates the sharp curves in a storm and I jump at the loud thunder. We hit Hannagan Meadow and figure out that we want to go to the East Fork of the Black River, so we'll hop on a Forest Service dirt road and head on back.

We navigate our way to the camping areas and are amazing by both the beauty of the valley and the horrendous amount of RVs (and generators). It's raining and we can't find a camping spot. I don't want to continue on to Big Lake, because I'm worried that we'll spend yet another hour in the car (it's already been 7 hours, counting all the pit stops), and find just as many RVs there. Finally, we find a lone camping spot. Whew!

The rain lessons to a sprinkle, so we hop out to set up camp. Halfway through setting up my sister's tent (which we've never laid eyes on before), the rain intensifies. Yikes! But we manage to get the tent up and camp set. It's back to a sprinkle so we try to start a fire to roast marshmallows and hot dogs, but we don't have any kindling and everything's all wet. We roast our food over yellow pages (the only dry paper in the car), then pull out glow sticks before heading to bed.

The next morning is clear. Chris and Ash head out to explore the river and I get my coffee and relax at the campsite. After breakfast, we gather some kindling and lay it out on a tarp to dry during the day so we can have a REAL fire that night. Then we go for a hike and quickly realize that this is a fisherman's river. No one hikes. There are no trails. None!

Rain clouds are approaching, so we head back to camp to cover the kindling and pack up camp so we don't get wet. We spend the next four (four!) hours inside the tent and we first get rain, then hail (!), then more rain. We read, relax, play 20 Questions and Uno, and then try to sleep a little (yeah, doesn't work with a five-year-old). It finally lets up and we come out to try to start a fire and make dinner.

The Fire Queen (that'd be me) makes a kick-ass fire and we spend a few hours enjoying the starry sky, bright fire and our neighbor's generator. (Campground = never again. We'll do the dispersed camping thing along some random dirt road somewhere, thankyouverymuch.)

Sunday morning dawns bright and clear. We enjoy taking our time to take down camp. Ash plays air guitar while we disassemble and dry off everything. On our way out, we decide to take a "long cut" instead of a short cut and head to Alpine. On our way, we found a herd of elk! We quickly pulled over and did a spur-of-the-moment hike to sneak up on the herd to get a closer look.

Once we get to Alpine, we realize that lunch (lunchmeat, cheese, etc.) has fallen into the melted ice water in the cooler, thus rendering it unedible. Dammit!

Ash munches on peanut butter as we drive over to New Mexico. Once we make it to Glenwood, we find a little (really amazingly delicious) diner called the Blue Front. Our cheeseburgers and fries fortify us for our big expedition: hiking the Catwalk.

Surprise, surprise: it's raining!

Okay, I'm from the desert. In the desert, one does not go up canyons when it's raining. Flash floods, duh! (as Ash would say...) We sit in the car and debate what to do. A friend of Chris's has been here when it flash flooded, and due to the really cool construction of this trail (a metal walkway bolted into the canyon side), the flash flood rushed right under their feet while they stayed safe. We observe other folks heading up the canyon. We decide we will start hiking up the trail and if the trail stays too low down next to the water, we'll hightail it outta there.

But first, we must make raingear for Ash: a garbage bag :)

Up the canyon we go. The trail stays high and dry, then we hit the main attraction: the Catwalk. It's awesome fun. And the canyon is gorgeous. The water is remaining at the same level. The waterfalls are amazing. Folks are all over the canyon (some in the water, which just freaks me out). Ash hikes the entire 1.1 mile up and back. No flash floods at all, just amazingly beautiful scenery. The long cut was totally worth it.

It takes us four more hours (including a pit stop in Safford at Jerry's for breakfast-for-dinner and yet another rain storm) before we get home, 12 hours after we left our camp site.

It was exhausting and did I mention the rain? But it was a blast.

(the entire photo album)

What I love about having crazy-ass runner friends: they think nothing of calling you up at 10 am on a summer morning in the desert and asking you to go on a spur-of-the-moment run in monsoon season....and I think nothing of saying, "of course!"

We headed out to Douglas Springs trailhead at the end of Speedway Blvd out near Saguaro National Park East. Mo wanted to head back to Bridal Veil falls and I wanted to experiment with my knee. It was soon apparent that Mo and Daniel were in much better shape than me, so I told them to take off to the falls - I'd turn around whenever they caught back up to me.

It was hot and muggy (noon in the desert in summer), and I'd forgotten sunscreen. The clouds danced with the sun, threatening rain (please, please! I begged), and giving wonderful cool breezes and shade at times. I was doing okay by myself, hiking mostly (up, up, up!), when I heard something big in the bushes nearby. I stopped. It stopped. I walked again. It walked again.

Mountain lion country, is all I could think.

I froze. It froze. I didn't move a muscle for five minutes. Neither did it. I slowly reached down and grabbed a rock, then lifted both arms in the air and started backing slowly down the trail. (Make yourself as big as possible, so you don't look like an easy target; walk slowly, don't run.)

Down the trail a bit I felt better, but I still didn't let go of the rock! I jogged bit once I got back down on the flats, but mostly took it easy. I hung out at the trailhead waiting for Mo and Daniel, who arrived shortly thereafter.

My knee? Felt great!

I did a little over 3 miles, and I'm guessing 500-700 feet of climbing. (I forgot my Garmin.) We followed it up with subway, a swim and rock band. All in all, a great Sunday afternoon :)

While I was slow and could tell I've put on 10 lbs (no joke), I was pleasantly surprised at how well my lungs did (considering it was hot and humid). Yay for the gym!

Looking forward to trying to get out to Sabino early morning this weekend. Add some hills and a little longer distance.

I'm feeling a little down about the weight and lack of running, but I can tell I'm at a good spot to slowly build up my mileage again. I feel confident that I'll be ready for Pemberton in February, woo hoo!!

6"x5" mixed media collage on a children's board book page. Available at my shop. SOLD!

He is getting married about six months after they met and started dating. I figured he would've learned his lesson the first time around (we met/married in six months).

For eleven years, he told me he didn't believe in the institution of marriage, that he wanted a divorce (although he wanted to stay in a relationship with me). A paper is meaningless, he said.

This shouldn't bother me. I'm the one who left. I'm the one who initiated the divorce. We had talked about it and talked about it; I agreed to stay in the relationship but the resentment grew and grew and grew and he refused to go to counseling and get healthy like I did and I finally said, enough! No relationship - even after the divorce. Paper or no paper. We're through. End of J/A. Period.

But it does bother me. It's yet another addition to the inconsistencies that I have become more and more aware of, the farther out from the relationship I get. I knew we were dysfunctional. I knew I didn't love him; that I only married him to get away from my family. I knew he didn't want me to leave because it would mean he wasn't loved - it didn't matter that it was *Angie* who left him, just that *he was left*. I knew I had given up of myself to be in the relationship.

But it wasn't until I finally broke free that I realized just. how. bad. we were together. The abusive cycle of power and control. The way he isolated me from my friends and family and told me he should be enough for me - that I didn't need anyone else but him. The way he told me he was the way, the truth and the light. The way he convinced me he was the only person I could trust in, believe in. That he was the only consistency in life. The intensity of his emotions and beliefs. The way I treated him - callous, dismissive, disrespectful - yet cowardly. The way I handed over my brain, my body, my soul, my beliefs. The way I rolled right over the warning signals in my head. The way he could slice and dice with his words on the occasions I spoke my warning signals aloud. I could not compete with his logic, his truth.

And the farther away I get, the more I realize just how flawed and inconsistent and hypocritical this judgmental, always-right person who believes in his truths so intensely is. Just how much he would say one thing and then do another - and then justify it all with his magical way of spinning words so fast and so elegantly and so intensely that the truth at the core of matter was always hidden and my questions and warning signs and fears so quickly mowed over.

This marriage is yet another kick in the gut - another reminder of how this person who convinced me so thoroughly that he was so consistent, so right, so precise, so perfect, so in line with his integrity, just isn't. He isn't who he convinced me he was. And 2 years later, I'm still hurt by that. I'm still mad at myself for falling into that. For believing it for so long.

It seems like he will be happy with her. She seems very nice. Maybe this one will last for him, maybe they won't fall into the same dysfunction that he and I did. Maybe he responds differently to her, and he doesn't treat her in the same way he treated me. And I sure hope she doesn't treat him the way I did. He deserves better than that. I really fervently hope that this marriage is a *good* thing for both of them - and most especially, for my son.

This impending marriage has also stimulated one other emotion in me: relief. He is truly no longer mine anymore. At the divorce, I was relieved that I no longer had to make excuses for him, no longer had to justify his behavior to my (few) friends and my family. But now - now - he will truly belong to someone else.

Relief that I am not married. Relief that 2 years later, I am still living on my own, living my life in the healthy way I want to live it. Relief that I am me, and I am in a relationship where we are equals, where we both choose together what we are doing and why, where I can say no I'm not comfortable with something or that I want to spend time alone and it's okay. Relief that I'm not close to marriage.

Relief that I am right where I want to be: with me.