30 Before 40.

So it's settled. I will be attending Columbia for their nonfiction MFA in the fall. *deep breaths*. I just mailed my deposit, and unlike when I lived in nyc before and mailed my PCOM deposit, I am not going to run back to the post office and ask them to fish the letter out of the mail bin so I could have it back. My choice was pretty much made for me, since UNC rejected me, thankyouverymuch, which I still don't understand. And wouldn't you know, I come home to an email about an oncology freelance writing job here in NC. sigh. I just have to have faith that it will work out. Somehow, in the end, it will work out.

I'm a big listmaker. Since turning 30 in December, I've been feeling a little bit like time is slipping by, unnoticed until another year has passed. I'm not upset about turning 30 - I think this will be the best decade yet - but there are things I want to do before I am 40. So here's my list, of 30 things I want to do before I turn 40.

1. Get a book deal and get published.

2. Go back to Israel.

3. Visit Italy.

4. Finish a half-Ironman by the time I am 35, and a full Ironman before I am 40.

5. Run a marathon.

6. Get married.

7. Become a mother.

8. Visit Prague and Croatia.

9. Pay off a good portion of my student loans (although, with Columbia.....not sure how likely that will be).

10. Run the NYC marathon.

11. Start a psychosocial oncology writing therapy program at a major cancer center (besides Sloan-Kettering, who already has one and that I'll be volunteering with come fall).

12. Get my ACSM personal trainer certification, finally.

13. Read Ulysses by James Joyce.

14. Read a good portion of the "classics".

15. Learn Italian.

16. Start practicing yoga routinely. For real.

17. Visit California and my friends Jessi and Carrie.

18. Be the best aunt ever to my nephew Trey. :)

19. Maybe race the Kona Ironman (if I get in by lottery).

20. Meet Molly Barker, the founder of Girls on the Run. We've emailed and we're Facebook friends, but I have yet to meet her.

21. Get something published in The New Yorker.

22. Own a Balenciaga motorcycle bag.

23. Try skiing.

24. Come back to Chapel Hill to live.

25. Visit Niketown - THE Niketown, in Oregon.

26. Resting when I need rest and listen to my body, to avoid future injuries.

27. See Tori Amos in concert.

28. If the Stones go on tour one more time, see them in concert.

29. See Madonna in concert.

30. Be healthy enough to do even more than I thought possible in my 40s.

rainy days and Mondays always get me down....

I thought I had that Carpenter's song on my iPod, but unfortunately, I don't. It would be the perfect song to play today, since not only is it Monday, but it's raining. And I'm feeling down. I had my orthopedic surgeon appt today. Very gross. The skin is breaking down and the top layer of skin on the top of my foot came off. It was so disgusting - you could see the blood below the surface where they operated and everything. It looked like raw, bloody meat. I couldn't even take a picture of it. So he bandaged me back up....oh yeah, and my blisters from my toes and foot being compressed are bursting, which just adds to the attractiveness of my foot. It's making me very self-conscious.

I don't know, today, was just hard. I haven't been able to work much because of the pain meds and exhaustion, which is stressful financially, and I'm nervous about writing programs. I haven't felt especially creative lately, and my brain is just worn out and tired. Add this to the constant agitation I have because I can't get rid of nervous tension physically by running or biking, and that's where I am.

I'm still sad about the triathlon and GOTR. Fellow athletes will understand - going from being very active to not active at all is torture for many of us. When I asked my surgeon today, he said I should be able to run about 9 weeks from now. Which is December.

it's a long road.

I am back at my house in Chapel Hill, on the road to recovery. The pain is still there; I described it today as constant. The medication dulls the pain to the point of me being able to function, but it never fully goes away. I keep saying to myself this is just temporary, this is temporary....it does not always work, but sometimes it does. It didn't help that this week was the kick-off week for Girls on the Run, so I keep getting emails about it....as well as I keep getting emails about the triathlon, telling me I need to change my swim times if need be. I have not officially withdrawn from the tri, and most likely will not. I'll be there the day before, picking up my race packet, damnit. Somewhere in my head I keep thinking, well, maybe I will be better by October 10th. I know this isn't possible. Not even remotely. But I still think it.

It's just, I don't think anyone REALLY thought I would do the tri. I've never done anything like it in my life, and it scared the crap out of me. But through training, I got myself back and fell in love with the sport. I worked my BUTT OFF, and it felt good. I pushed myself to my supposed limits and then surpassed them, and set the bar higher. I found a community of friendly people and was the healthiest I've been in a while. It's frustrating when I've worked so hard and this surgery has derailed my goals. I'm not a D-1 athlete, I'm not a pro. But it made me cry last night, because I really, really, really wanted to do the tri and run across that finish line and be able to call myself a triathlete.

I cope with stress by working out, and I can't do that. I can't even walk at a normal pace. I am getting applications ready, working on my writing portfolio, trying to work up motivation to study for the GREs and working for livestrong.com. Stress is ever present, and I've never wanted to run more than I do now. I cannot wait until I can even swim. I am trying not to be a Debbie Downer; maybe it's the pain meds making me this way. I'm hoping that this spurs my writing and I get some good pieces out of this emotion.

Reading: "someday this pain will be useful to you" by Peter Cameron (a New School MFA author); "the hunger games"; "warrior girls" by Michael Sokolove, about female athletes and injuries.

Listening: the new Anberlin album, "wildflower" by The JaneDear Girls

one day at a time.

So here I am, about 6 days post-op. This surgery was by far the most aggressive and the most painful surgery. They put in a titanium plate and screws in my foot, as well as a bone graft from a cadaver. My mom came down for the surgery and I spent Thurs-Mon at her hotel room, where she took care of me, gave me pain meds, and cleaned up after me when I was sick (thanks, Dilaudid....not eating pizza again for a while!). When I wasn't in pain, we had a good time, watching "Back to the Future" and ordering food. The pain was unbearable this time around, especially at night, when the pain was so bad I would beg for more pain medicine. Now I am at my dad's, because his house is mostly on one floor, and I am on crutches for at least this week. I've tapered pain meds, and now I am on Percoset, compared to the Oxy I was on. It's slow going, and little things exhaust me, but hopefully things will keep getting better.

I'm still bummed about not coaching Girls on the Run, and not competing in the tri. Very frustrating. But, I also have to realize that my body's been through a lot in the past 6 months. Two surgeries on the same foot - not minor surgeries, either. The shock to my system has been significant, and I have to take extra care of myself so I can return to sports stronger and better than before.

I haven't worked since last Wednesday, which makes me very anxious and stressed, but I'm hoping that starting tomorrow, I will be on as little pain meds as possible so I can start working more efficiently on both my articles and my applications. *sigh*.

breaking bones.

I mentioned a few posts ago that my foot surgery needs to be redone. I first had bunion surgery in May 2002, 2 days after my college graduation. Turned out that she had only shaved the bone, which is called a Silver bunionectomy. When I started tri training in earnest this year, my foot was acting up, and the bunion had recurred, causing my pain. So in March 2010, I had an osteotomy. They broke the first metatarsal and rearranged the joint, tendons and ligaments. When I started physical therapy in August, the 2 PTs took one look at my foot, looked at each other, and innocently mentioned that it looked like a "failed surgery." No lie, I cried right then and there. The toe was horribly curved, and I cannot stand flat on that foot; my weight is on the lateral side. I knew they were right. I saw another orthopedic surgeon, one specializing in only foot and ankle surgeries. He agreed that not only has the bunion recurred, but recurred WORSE, and I have developed arthritis in the first metatarsal joints. So I am having a THIRD surgery on my foot on Thursday. They say third time's the charm, right? This surgery will be fusing my bones, lengthening the first metatarsal joint, shortening the second and the fusion will fix both the arthritis and the bunion.

Needless to say, the October triathlon is not happening, the November triathlon is not happening, and I will not be a Coach for Girls on the Run this fall.

Those of you who are athletes will understand this; let me describe to non-athletes what this is like for me. It's devastating. Sure, I'm not a D-1 athlete or a professional. My tuition or my salary do not depend on my athletic accomplishments. But I am an athlete. Always have been, likely always will be. Sports is a stress reliever for me, it makes me feel confident, it makes me healthy and it makes me strong in all possible ways. Going for a run or swim does more than work and exhaust my body; it allows me time to empty my head of all the demons that have taunted me that day - will I get into an academic program, will I get a job, what if I'm not good enough, why is my bank account balance so low, why aren't there any decent guys out there - and it brings me back to myself. I can't explain it any other way. Feeling my muscles burn and work fills me with gratitude that I am able to do these activities and reminds me that my body is an amazing thing that needs to be cared for and fed and listened to. Finishing a 20 mile bike ride or a 3 mile run or a hard swim workout helps me realize that the only limits I have are the ones that I place on myself.

This year, I got into the best shape of my life, physically and mentally. Going to the gym was the one place that I felt at ease; it was the one place that I felt like a success. Like I was good at something. Now that I won't have that after next week, I need to focus on my work, my writing portfolio and my personal statements.

What brought this on, aside from my impending surgery? I'm watching the US Open. Watching tennis always reminds me just how much I love the sport. In high school, I lived and breathed tennis in the spring, summer and fall. I would have my dad drive me to the tennis wall at the high school near my house and spend hours hitting the ball against the wall. When he had the chance, my dad would play tennis with me, and he would hit that ball so hard that by the time tryouts came around, any serves or volleys that these girls had against me felt weak, compared to what I'd been playing against all summer. I developed a not-so-attractive John McEnroe-like habit of throwing my racquet when I was annoyed or not playing well, but I also developed one hell of a two-handed backhand and great serve. In mid-August, before tryouts, going to get my racquet restrung and shopping for new tennis shoes was a bit of a tradition. I'd pack my racquet bag with my racquets, cans of balls, headbands, wristbands, handle grips, vibration dampers for the strings....I'd dissect the games of Steffi Graf, Mary Jo Fernandez and Pete Sampras. I'd debate the merits of white versus blue tennis skirts, and wind up with both.

Because God has a wicked sense of humor, the day after I was told I needed another surgery, the newest issue of Runner's World arrived in my mailbox, and the next day, the new issue of Triathlete came in. I resigned myself to the fact that I would not be running a half-marathon on my 30th birthday in December, as I had wanted to, and that I would not be an "official" triathlete until some time next year. I guess maybe my half-Ironman within the next 2 years may also have to be postponed. The only triathlon in my near future is the Kona Ironman, which I will be watching on television, the day before my would-be first triathlon.

My surgery is on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year and one of the holiest days of the Jewish calendar. I didn't know this when I scheduled it. Would it have made a difference? Probably not. But maybe this is a sign. Maybe it signifies that the coming year will be a sweet one, because of all the struggles this year brought. Maybe it signifies a new start with a stronger body.

They say that when you break a bone, it heals stronger than before. At least that's what I've heard. I am choosing to believe this. I am choosing to believe that after this surgery, my foot will be stronger than before and I can resume my triathlon training and become even better and stronger and more athletic than I was.

Because the alternative is unthinkable.

if you let me play sports...

Sports has always been a part of my life. As a girl, I took gymnastics lessons; tumbling and flipping came easy to me. I'd do back walkovers up and down the lawn, practice back handsprings with my friend Nikki, and do flips off the diving board in our pool. In high school, I decided to take up tennis; after one year, I was playing Varsity. Being on the tennis court gave me a sense of peace - running the lines, laps around the court, practicing my two-handed backhand and popping open a new can of tennis balls...I loved it. I still do, although I haven't been on a court in forever. I planned my summers around tennis. Wimbledon would always seem to fall during tennis tryouts. I'd go to morning tryouts, come home and watch tennis and eat lunch, and go back for afternoon tryouts and practice. When I got to college, I contemplated trying out for the team, but was lured to rugby by the promise of parties after every game. Rugby was like no other sport - I would go back to the dorm after a game and party with black and blue bruises from head to toe, exhausted, and as happy as a pig in slop. Playing rugby was a badge of honor, that I was tough enough to play a sport with no timeouts, full body contact and tackling. And now, I have triathlon.

Due to my foot surgery, I am relegated to only swimming right now. But just getting my body moving again has given me back a part of myself. There is a large part of me that identifies as an athlete. It is something I am decent at. At a time when I am struggling in school - something preveiously UNHEARD OF for me - this makes me feel good at something. Most people are really good at something. I've always been really good at school. And when I don't have that, I'm a little lost. But sports makes me feel like I'm good at something again. Gives me a sense of accomplishment. Satisfaction. Even just entering the Wellness Center and locker room, I can feel my body relax, like this is where I'm supposed to be, it's familiar, it's natural. I'm a sports girl. The fact that I am (trying to) study for ACSM certification for personal training so I can work part-time while waiting on nursing school decisions is exciting for me. Unfortunately, I haven't really been able to even look at the ACSM books because of physiology. At any rate, I am getting back to my athletic self, which makes me feel good. As Molly Barker writes, it gets me out of the "Girl Box", those imposed restrictions that tell us we're not pretty enough, or thin enough, or good enough....or simply, enough. It brings me to my self. Which is what we all strive for, right?

just call me Coach.

Girls on the Run!

Despite the fact that I am still wearing an air cast (surgeon said I should be able to run by July), I just signed up to be a volunteer coach in the fall for an organization called Girls on the Run. It was founded by a woman named Molly Barker (a UNC alum, clinical social worker, 4 time Hawaii Ironman triathlete and recovering alcoholic), and is quite possibly the neatest organization I have ever had the opportunity to work with. The program is a 12 week program for girls ages 8-12, and we will meet twice a week for an hour at a time, doing lessons on self-esteem, body image, healthy choices, and other positive, empowering themes for young girls. At each session, we do some running, and at the end of the 12 weeks, we enter a 5k (3.1 miles) race. Girls this age are on the cusp, they are looking into the "Girl Box", as Molly writes. But think back to when you were 8, 9, 10...before you were worried about not being "pretty enough", or "thin enough", or "smart enough", or "popular enough"....because you knew you WERE enough. Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, many of us fall into media traps of what is deemed "acceptable" for young women today. We get trapped in the "Girl Box", with its strict rules as to what is expected and what is accepted. We learn to be seen and not heard, to speak a little softer. We learn that the media slams women who dare to be a healthy size, rather than diet themselves into nothingness. Sports can change all that. I am so excited to be a role model and help empower these girls to love themselves, and make healthy choices for themselves. Athletics has always been part of my life - gymnastics, tennis, rugby, and now triathlon - and to share that with others is a gift.

I went into psychology because of Mary Pipher's book Reviving Ophelia. Though my life has detoured into pediatric oncology, I still have a strong interest in psychology (as I should, since I have a Master's in counseling), and I think this experience will teach me a lot. I'm sure that these girls will be teaching me, as much - if not more - than I teach them. I'm reading Molly Barker's book "Girls on Track", which gives some background on her own life and the development of the program, and it's pretty amazing.