There’s a time in our lives; we start again on writing our part; as the story goes on; it’s the rule we remember our lines (Good Old War)

As I sit here nearly two weeks after my time "in the desert", I am still struggling with finding the right words to describe my experience. Badwater was about Chris…his race, his dream, his goal…I was just along for the ride. Little did I know that every moment leading up to that point would ultimately affect its outcome. I changed out there. This is is my Badwater Report, but honestly it is how Badwater changed my life. I guess when all else fails, just start at the beginning. That is what I have decided to do. It is long, but nothing could be omitted. If you choose to read it all, thank you…if not….maybe someday you will be ready. Until 2 weeks ago, I wasn't even ready myself.

Twelve years ago, I saw a shy, handsome, young surgical resident in the corridors at VUMC. After several failed relationships and a genuine hatred toward men, I easily pushed his "cuteness" aside. I knew that the only thing that was important to me at age 22 was to be independent. I would change my own tires, move furniture, make my own money, etc., etc. The only thing I knew for sure was that I did not NEED a man in my life. It was certainly more about WANTING a man in my life. I was done with whatever everyone said I needed. Fast forward a few years. The shy resident finally asked me out, I said yes and we were engaged a few months later. What does any of this have to do with Badwater? Stay with me…

Remember when you were young and you felt invincible and that nothing could ever happen to YOU. All of that badness and misfortune happened to other people, not YOU. This is a great sense of security, but it does not exist. God has a funny way of stepping right in front of you when the time is right and reminding you of who is in charge. This came in the form of our first child, who was stillborn, Cady Kathleen Roman. Born August 21, 2000-Died August 21, 2000. All of a sudden I was holding a heart shaped box that contained her ashes and wondering where to go from here. Well, thanks to divine intervention and my wicked fertility genes, we quickly got pregnant again. Again, you are probably thinking where is she going with this….just read on.

Years passed, we had 2 healthy baby girls, and Chris and I grew apart. We were just so different, yet we loved one another greatly. We spent many months merely existing as I grieved our child and our failing relationship. Chris worked, I never saw him and we weren't sure if we even liked each other anymore. Chris found running and I found every reason to resent him for it. Marathons turned into 50k's, 50ks to 100 miles and not only did he love it, he was GOOD at it. I always asked him what he was running from. I think in those early days, it was ….me.

The worst feeling in the world is the feeling of failure. The things that God created you to do, find a mate, love fully have babies….these were all things that I was obviously failing at. What good was I? Chris followed his passion of running and I reluctantly supported him. I didn't marry a runner, yet he didn't marry a shell of a human either. So here we were…a budding ultra-marathoner and his wife.

Moving to Florida was our sense of rebirth. I moved here many months before Chris and each time he spoke to me on the phone, he was so excited about how happy I sounded. At this point, I had come to some serious crossroads in my life, forced my way to live through the horror and kept the door of possibility cracked. He kept running and doing amazing things. I recall him running with Dean K. during his 50 in 50 and telling me about people that run this crazy race, 135 miles in the desert! I said, "promise me you will never do that", he said….."Don't worry, it's not even on my radar, I'll never be that good".

Fear of failure. Chris had it too. It was unfortunately deeply ingrained in both of our innocent child brains and once that nasty seed had been planted, it was very hard to get rid of. We were, however, connecting ….through our fear of failure. Again Chris kept running and got better and better. I remember showing up to the finish of his first 100k at his "projected" finish time to see him standing there drinking a beer. I was devastated that I didn't see him finish. He had been done for almost an hour. It was at that moment that I vowed to never let him cross a finish line without me there. If he was running from something, it was going to be me who caught him when he finished.

Enter Leadville, Ironhorse, Keys, Pinhoti, Western States, etc etc etc. I am sure that we were the laughing stock of more seasoned ultrarunners. I was his only crew and he did most of these races without a pacer. We had bonded and this was OUR thing. We learned, struggled, laughed and loved…BIG.

I remember a few years ago, when his training was getting in the way of me having a chance to do ANYTHING for myself, he looked at me and said, " I just realized that I am a 40 year old doctor with a great life and a great family, but I don't have any friends. The only real friends I have are the ones I have only met a few times on a race course. But I could call any one of those guys and they would be there for me in a heartbeat." This hobby was now our family.

Chris got accepted to Badwater. He crossed all the T's and dotted all the I's….crewed Badwater for our brother Tony P (whom I now love as much as Chris ….well , almost as much) , excelled in racing 100 milers, contributed significantly to his charity CAF and trained his skinny ass off. I started feeling like Badwater was his mistress. The training kept him busy and away from our family, lots of money was spent and countless sacrifices were made. He connected with people on visceral levels. To name a few (Eric, Terry, Tony, Dan, Susan, Mark, Chip, and Charlie of course) This was his life's work. Nothing to prove, of course, but everything to prove at the same time. We assembled our team. Dan Rose told Chris that he would crew him if he was ever accepted, talk about being true to a verbal agreement. Rose vowed to attend Badwater only once, and that was for Chris. He is an amazing runner, his resume speaks for itself; I would be there, of course, as moral support and crew chief, Susan Smith, our friend, supporter and marathoner never hesitated with her YES, Dan Hartley a committed ultrarunner couldn't wait for the experience to fuel his own Badwater dreams, Mark Ryan a totally loyal and stand-up guy as well as a great runner signed, on right away , and Chris's brother Rick would make the journey to see his baby brother in all of his suffering glory. Later, Rick reluctantly had to back out and Chris went through a grieving period, mourning the fact that his brother wouldn't be there, but vowing to do his best for Rick, so he would be proud.

The wheels were in motion. Training continued and I felt like the "mistress" was getting my man. Bad water was all we talked about, planned for and studied. Lots of people say that you have to have a crew of only exceptional athletes, seasoned ultra-runners and nothing short of that will do. The human condition is much more complex than eat, drink, run repeat. Of course, knowledge of the course, environment and race nutrition is of paramount importance, (thank God for our expert crew members) but what about the emotional side of knowing just what your runner needs, the knowing when you look into their eyes, the understanding of the suffering….that is when the gentle touch of someone who loves you is even better that that Starbucks espresso shot. That is why I was there. Im neither ultra runner, nor will I ever be, but I know Chris, and I vowed to get him to that finish line.

I hate to fly. It's no secret. I have to be medicated to deal with any flight over 1.5 hrs. I did just that on our way to Las Vegas. I spent the first 4 hrs. drooling on my horseshoe pillow. When I awoke, I was in Hell. The plane fell from the sky. It was like being on a rollercoaster and going downhill very fast with the hope that the bottom was soon to come, except this fall never seemed to end. The electricity went off, everyone was screaming, when I pried my one eye open, I saw someone come out of their seat and hit the ceiling of the plane. The use of vomit bags was encouraged and I was sure it was my time to go. This was my worst nightmare come true. Maybe I created my own reality. Chris's friend Meredith and her husband and baby were behind us. I heard their screams and time stood still. All of a sudden, it was very clear how delicate our balance between calm and chaos is.

I talked about this for at least 24 hrs. I think that it was justified considering the fact that we almost died getting to the start line of the world's toughest foot race. Enter Death Valley……The landscape was like no other. Barren, weathered, desolate….why, then, was it so damn powerful? Getting to Furnace Creek Resort was so refreshing. I have lots of control issues; I normally freak out if I'm not near a hospital or don't have a cell signal. I had neither of those, yet felt a strong sense of calm and purpose….all my fears were left on Soutwest Flight 104. As we trekked to the Basin the next day, I started to get nervous when I realized I left our sat phone in the room and my cell wouldn't work. It was becoming crystal clear, control was not mine to have….slowly I began to rid myself of my need of it and find that life was a little easier when I gave some of it up.

The race started with lots of butterflies. Chris earned his spot in the 10 am start group, flanked by some of the world's elite athletes. He had arrived. He was nervous and I could feel it. I stayed calm. I have one great quality, putting on a great game face….maybe that's not such a great quality after all, but hindsight is 20/20. He starting running and I shed the first of many tears. Our crew was cohesive, save a few bumps here and there, Chris was our only concern. I showed my ugly side only a few times, but I think it was warranted and kept us on track. Time passed very quickly. Before I knew it the moon was out in all of its majesty and Chris was still running. Dan Rose asked if I was up to logging a few miles….of course. Knee surgery aside, I fell in step behind my husband, talking like we were at our kitchen table. All of a sudden a downhill presented itself….I heard myself say "Lets RUN"….like a school kid suggesting something that was forbidden. Chris asked if I was sure…and I said let's go! First run in almost a year. Under a shooting star with the love of my life......Little did I know that the crew was debating coming back to pick me up after seeing the downhill on their 2 mile leap frog. When Dan R. told me later that he exclaimed to the team, "Erin would never hold Chris back and would tell him to run ahead before she made him walk a downhill" I knew that our team had become one unit. We KNEW each other.

The night was full of relentless uphill and freeing downhill. The cars along the road with their flashing hazards and the runners and pacers with their light vests and headlights looked like an ultra Christmas tree. Beautiful….As morning approached, I was secretly hoping for the sun to hurry the heck up and wake up so that I was warm again (I hate cold and was bundled up in pants, hat, jacket and hand warmers….ya, ya, I know….) Chris saw his chance on making a sub 24 hr hundred mile time. And that he did, 22 hrs and some change. Then the suffering began. Tensions began to rise a bit, exhaustion set in and I was trying to carry out my runners wishes without being a total "you know what". Delirium took hold of me and I made some ridiculous videos at this point, but I had no idea of what was in store.

The next 12 miles tested everything inside of Chris and surprisingly inside of me. I never imagined that Chris's Badwater would have any effect on me apart from the usual crewing stuff. I knew that this was his moment and my only role was to get him across the finish in one piece. I never bargained for the the many moments of stillness that allowed me to finally slow down enough to fully appreciate this life. When I began to walk up the mountain with Chris, I was nervous…..see Erin's mountain road neurosis…or ask Dan Hartley…I don't like tiny roads that have no guard rails. Then multiply that by the fact that my husband was delirious and out of his mind, teetering on the edge of these blasted roads as we tried to find a safe place to stop. I actually opted to walk up the hill at one point rather than ride in the van….neurotic, I know. I planned to go up the last 8 miles with Chris. I was physically capable but wasn't prepared for the emotion. When I settled in behind Chris for his death march, he had already left all that he had left in his tank back in Lone Pine, all was seemingly OK. Chris then began to talk a little crazy, act a little unsteady and tell me how delirious he was. As a nurse, I knew that if he was expressing it, he was lucid right? Then he began to say over and over, "This is so hard, this is so hard." Each tenth of a mile was sheer torture and he knew I was worried. The funny thing here is that after he expressed how delirious he was he quickly followed that by ,"I'm not delirious enough for medical so don't get any ideas or go calling for help"….exit Erin, enter Dan Rose. I had to step back and let someone who had felt those same feelings and experienced that same pain is with Chris. All I wanted to do was be his wife and tell him to stop that he had nothing to prove and that he had already done amazing. I just wanted us to be at the hotel and have this stupid race behind us. But, I also know that quitting would only relieve the pain temporarily but the pain of not finishing what he started would haunt him forever. I quietly took his hand, kissed it and placed in his open palm the RIP rock from Charlies "going away" party. He shook his head, shed a tear and walked a little faster.

As we approached our crew, about 100 yards out from the finish, Chris said "I hope that they didn't come like half a mile down to meet us….this needs to be over now." He asked Dan Rose if he would get to the finish in less than 33 hrs. and Dan smiled and said " you've got like 4 minutes dude!" Chris looked at me and said that he wanted his finish picture with his whole crew with linked hands crossing together. I asked if he was sure he didn't want to cross himself and he point blank said that without us, there would be no Badwater finish for him. So we did just that….arms raised in triumph, leaving our former selves in the desert, ready to start anew with fresh eyes and an awakened heart.

Badwater is the toughest footrace on the planet. My husband did it with a demanding job, a wife and two kids, in his 40s with nothing to prove. If you ask me…..what he did was nothing short of amazing. He gave our crew and myself the experience of a lifetime, the opportunity to find what makes us who we are and what needs a little tweaking. He trusted us with his life, never questioning the nutrition strategy or the pacing schedule. He turned it his race over to us.

A lot of baggage was left out in Death Valley. Sometimes if you don't "get it" on your own, God forces you to be still, giving you the chance to figure it out. It is these moments of silence and quiet reflection that define our lives. I can only imagine the clarity Chris gained while running Badwater. Suffering in silence exploring the emotional, physical, what is needed and what is not, what matters and what is a waste of energy. My husband got to cross off a big one on his life list. How fortunate am I that I was a part of it. Don't wait for disease, tragedy or unrest until you make time for stillness….do less with greater intention. The time is now.

Thank you to our crew. Dan Rose, Dan Hartley, Susan Smith, Mark Ryan and Ray….you sacrificed part of yourself to be with Chris….I can never express how much that means to both of us. It wouldn't have been the same experience without each of you. We can never repay you properly for your selflessness, but in exchange, I hope that in the stillness of the desert, you got to find a moment of peace within yourselves, and in that moment you found yourself renewed and ready to "be the change". Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

How is that working for you?

You may be wondering who's arm is this and what in the world has she done now....dont fret...just read on.

I embarked on some additional training in the Baptiste style of yoga. I am so happy and excited to be following my heart. Without a running/triathlon training schedule I have so much more time to devote to what has become my true passion, yoga, teaching, practicing, learning and growing. I have been assisting in the Intro Series and I have run the gamut of emotions. I have gone from flying high, to the lowest of lows, crying, laughing, confidence and nerves. We have been challenged to look deep inside as we advance our practice. We had to answer the question :What is one area in my life that I feel like I have lost my freedom? Holy wow! This forced me to confront some issues to say the least. What I learned was that my so-called "story" really wasnt working for me....and for that matter, it wasnt working for anyone else either. In the process of becoming the world's greatest support person, I somehow became ok with the idea that my needs came second. Let me clarify here that no one ever made me feel this way, especially my husband who is my biggest fan....I ALLOWED myself to feel this way. I became known as Chris's amazing support person, the one woman crew, the one constant in our family and I allowed myself to think that this was all there was. I have so much inside just waiting to come out! I am so thankful that I was forced to get real and realize that I am what I choose to become. When Chris left for Brazil, I scribbled some words on a card. I never thought long and hard about what to say, I just wrote from the heart and from what was real. I wrote " Go. Live. Suffer. Grow"


This was just my humble wish for his journey. I was giving him permission of sorts to allow his journey to fill him up and light him up for us and for himself. These four words became a mantra, an intention to Chris and his pilgrim brothers. Jarom, one of the 3 to complete the journey, was so moved and inspired by these words that he gave himself a permanent reminder of his life's purpose. See above photo. If I EVER feel like what I have to say is inconsequential....I will look at this photo and realize that YES....one person can make a HUGE difference. Im finding my voice, are you?

Fly, Blackbird Fly

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise. Blackbird fly, blackbird fly".

I was fortunate enough to spend Sunday with Moses and Zeina, the selfless, giving beings behind the Green Bus Project and I Love Yoga. They are travelling for the 12 months, visiting yoga studios around the country sharing their gift of acro yoga and raising money for the Africa Yoga Project. Take a moment to read about what they are doing (http://www.greenbusproject.com/ ). It is inspiring and so refreshing to say the least.

The I Love Yoga Green Bus tour made a stop at Big Fish Yoga on Sunday.I kept thinking how much my kids would have loved to see this big green bus and to see what is possible when you think outside the box. Even though it was Superbowl Sunday, the chance to come to the acro-yoga workshop and "fly" was far more important to me than any game. When I signed up for this, I never really considered what was going to be involved. I just said "yes".....kind of a theme these days. I asked my friend to come with...to be honest, I didn't think that she would say yes given the fact that it was a big chunk of time on a Sunday and that she had never set foot in a yoga studio before. I was excited about the day, spending time with my friend and sharing yoga with her. To be honest, just getting myself to the studio that day was a feat beyond measure. I had to relinquish my kids to my in laws for the entire afternoon, which is hard for me, I'm not good at asking for help, and I had to pull myself together emotionally. It had been a rough couple of days for "e". I had been in my car crying in the parking lot, my eyes swollen shut with a feeling of despair....this is not how I wanted to go into this workshop, but looking back....I think it emptied me out so completely that I could fill up on the things I desperately needed.

First let me mention that if you take someone to a yoga studio for the first time, it is probably wise to inform them that there may be a little chanting and a little deep breathing. I didn't do this...and let me tell you, the chanting, om-ing, and breathing on this day was off the hook! I thought my friend was going to literally run screaming from the building, but she was forced to remove her running shoes upon entering the studio (another fact that yours truly forgot to mention) and the door was locked, so she had to stay. We Om-ed for roughly 5 minutes....this is a long time, especially for a newbie. So, I'm thinking more about how she was feeling than how I was feeling which was a welcome distraction considering my state of mind and it actually made me giggle a little bit to see her reaction to all of these things. She even admitted to me later that she had to picture her dog, dying in the street to stifle her laughter. This makes me laugh even now thinking that all these people are laying around us trying to achieve harmony and peace and there she is, biting her cheek and picturing her dead dog.....classic.

Onward....We started the workshop with a "sharing circle". We each had to say our name and why we were there. Great...I wasn't sure that I could even speak without crying, much less provide a coherent explanation as to why I was there. My turn arrived and I started out OK...got my name out...then bam!...emotion overload. I think I said that I was feeling very vulnerable and scarred, but I mostly was trying to keep it together. Then it was my friends turn....oh boy...what is going to come out of her mouth....she is not one to mince words. She mentioned that the whole experience so far reminded her of her college days....again, I'm thinking oh boy....where is she going with this? Then she began to speak...for a decent amount of time about her life and how she always felt in chaos. I then thought that she needed this as much as I did, maybe more. We then began some communication exercises....you may be thinking, what does any of this have to do with "acro-yoga"? Well, I briefly thought the same thing, until I realized that it had EVERYTHING to do with acro-yoga. When you fly, your body is literally in the hands of your partner. Being able to express yourself and communicate is key to achieving balance... in acro yoga and also in life. After this, we were ready to fly!! We broke off into groups of 3, me my friend and Zeina's brother, Ram. I wanted to be the base first and fly my friend. No surprise here that this is exactly how I live my own life. I always see myself as the one to provide stability, the one that lifts everyone up, the one that is more comfortable being in control. This was no different on this day as I lay down on my mat and got ready to fly my friend. She was nervous....it was palpable. She was stiff and she wasn't breathing. It is essential when you fly to breathe and allow all your muscles to relax. It makes it much harder on your partner to hold you up if you are tensing your muscles.(Can you see how this relates to most relationships...especially marriages and partnerships?) After a couple of attempts, she was flying....terrified but flying. She slowly began to release, trusting my strength....something that I knew I could give her without fail. She stayed there for a good long time, allowing me to hold her up...effortlessly at times, suspended in this perfect moment of time. Then it was my turn to fly. I had gotten so good, in my life, at being the strength, that I wasn't sure that I was going to be able to surrender. Wow....the feeling that I felt when I gave it all away (all the struggling, all the expectations, all the baggage) just overtook my entire being. For a moment I closed my eyes and lost all concept of time and space. It was just, me....broken wings and all....relearning to fly.

This is a picture of Ram flying me. I cant tell you how much I surprised myself. I naturally went limp and just allowed myself to me moved and molded and held up.

Just hanging out....flying....it is like an out of body experience if you allow yourself to let go. I got to fly Ram too! My strength and confidence surprised me again...I felt strong and was able to let him fly for quite a while. Moses came by and patted my leg as I was flying Ram and said "Awesome, you are strong". And in my head, I answered "I know." This was quite profound. I was finally admitting my strength ...maybe not out loud, but at least to myself. My friend got to base me as well, but she was mentally fighting against her "tight hammies" and her "inflexibility". Both things that Moses pointed out were NOT the problem at all...it was her inability to breathe and to let go of some of the tension she was creating...hmmmmm, interesting. He made the point that strength was something that she had a lot of, she just had to use it in a way that worked for her. Awesome. I think we both learned a lot about ourselves and how we react to others, what is natural and what we try to force in our lives. The workshop ran a little long and I was starting to worry about picking my kids up in a timely manner so I probably lost out on some deep relaxation as we retreated to savasana. I also desperately wanted to shop the I Love Yoga clothing line that Moses and Zee were promoting, but really had to go. When I asked if they would be back with their clothing, Zee said that she wasn't sure. Then what she said next summed up the core of their being. She said, "Just take what you want and mail us a check....that is totally fine." Wow....just wow...how refreshing, giving, trusting and authentic. This is what I got filled up on at acro-yoga. Namaste.

Just Say "YES"

Well, my husband has been home from his Brazil pilgrimage for 1 week now. I really thought that I would have been a blogging fool while he was gone, but I only got 1 little blog out. I guess that is because I am a self-professed worrier. I have spent untold amounts of energy worrying about things that haven't even happened. I am authentically working on this behavior pattern. It is true that in times of stress, it is easy for me (us) to revert back to the same-ole same-ole coping mechanisms, good and bad. For me, it becomes an internal struggle. I'm happy and smiley on the outside, but brooding and tormented on the inside. It was remarkable to me that Tony, Chris's Brazil running buddy and "brother", saw me via Skype almost every night during the pilgrimage. He was talking to Chris via Skype the other night, and, I should insert here that if Tony were a woman, I think I would be getting jealous, but alas, Tony is a man, who loves sushi and beer and loves my husband in a way that I can only try to comprehend. Chris, Tony and Jarom spent 7 days "in the desert" relying on themselves, their bodies and their spirit.. but most of all their commitment to one another. Much like a marriage...once you say "yes".....its for better AND (not or) worse. So, back to what I was saying....Tony looked at me as I poked my tiny head over Chris's shoulder and said "Wow...you have the sparkle in your eyes back....seriously, you look like a different person". I get that...I can try my hardest to put on a good show...so many of us do....but the sparkle in your eye does not lie and cannot be "faked". As I make my journey from gym to mat this "trying to fake it" mentality comes up time and time again. A good instructor leads you to push you limits, but it is up to you to find your limits. Just ask yourself....Is it more important to get into the "pose" (on your mat and in your life), miserable and in poor form just so that those around you will think you have it all together....or will you wait until you have all the necessary components to make the pose real and authentic?


This shows up for me when I am in extended side angle and the instructor allows us to play with taking a half or full bind (this is when your hands connect behind your body). I used to contort my self (ok...this is all VERY relative) just so that the tips of my fingers would touch and I would think..."see...I can do this...Im so cool and happy" (when I was really miserable and hoping for the end of the sequence). I had to take a step back and realize that I wasnt ready. I was getting ready, but not there yet. Can you see how this can relate to EVERY part of life? I now have the tools to come into a full bind with my heart shining up to the "high", my breath free and easy and my foundation stable. It is a process and one that I am grateful to share.
I am also taking a leap of faith in my yoga training, one that I know is in my heart and in my soul and one that forces me to share what I have. So, I am saying "yes" are you? (click here to find yourself in the lyrics to "Just Say Yes" by Snow Patrol.
Just say yes
Just say there is nothing holding you back
Its not a test
Or a trick of the mind, only love.
Tomorrow is my acro-yoga workshop  (I am also taking a dear friend who is a self professed "me monster" and has never done yoga) I will be relying on her to hold me up and let me fly....literally and figuratively....I can only imagine how much I will have to share:).

Boundaries?

I have been contemplating the huge concept of boundaries lately. This may be partially due to the fact that my dear, crazy, incredible husband is running the entire length of the Caminho de
Fe in Brazil (right at this moment). This will total about 353 miles and it has never been run before. So, yes, boundaries are relative at the Roman household. I have also been pondering what it is in us that makes us push the limits of our boundaries. This hugely complex question was made strikingly simple just the other day.

Several months ago, we had a lightning strike about 5 feet from our house. This is apparently pretty common in Fl, but until you witness this vast power of nature up close and personal, you cant really grasp the enormity of the power of our "Mother". Luckily for us, the lightening surged through our underground invisible dog fence, sparing our entire fuse box and untold amounts of monetary damage. We had a dilemma, do we have the fence repaired or take our chances? The dogs are conditioned to the fence. They have been trained to the boundaries of the perimeter of the yard. They "know" that if they push the boundary, they will get a little shock(horrible, I know). For the last 3 years they have been content with the boundaries that we gave them. We decided to not replace the fence (see $$$$$) and assume that the dogs are conditioned well enough to stay put.

Well, you can see where this is going. Our sweet, timid, rescue dog, Zora (ZZ for short), decided to defy her boundaries. Yep, as soon as Chris took off for Brazil, she decided that she would explore. What made her, after 3 years of confined happiness, decide to break through her barrier? Why now? What changed?

Here is what I got out of this whole crazy scenario.....We can easily go through life, content to accept the path and boundaries that we have been given. But how exciting can life be when we try to push the limit? If we are lucky, like ZZ, we decide to break though our boundaries and gallop down the 15th fairway with our long black ears flapping in the breeze, tongue lolling to the side of our mouths, without a care in the world. If we choose to accept our boundaries at face value, we may never feel this type of freedom. ZZ knew that she might get hurt as she tested her boundaries, but nevertheless, she did it. How inspiring, right?

If I can only translate this boundary pushing to my yoga practice. I tend to take the safe route in many postures, waiting until I can master something before I try it in a class full of my yogi peers. I am slowly toeing the line of my fear boundary. Headstand was my first milestone, now handstand has a vice grip on around my heart. I dont know why I have so much fear. When I instruct my own students, I can see when there is fear. I suppose that since I am now acknowledging my fear, I can begin to move through, but man!!!! the fear has me paralyzed. I feel like the ZZ that was content to lay on the driveway watching life go by instead of the ZZ that moved with reckless abandon to feel the wind in her fur.

The fence has been repaired, but Im confident that ZZ will push her limits many times over before she leaves this world. If Im lucky, I will follow suit.

Closer to Fine

Im trying to tell you something 'bout my life, maybe give me insight between black and white, and the best thing you've ever done for me, is to help me take my life less seriously, its only life after all. -indigo girls- closer to fine

Ive always loved this song, but after hearing the words again this morning, it was just fitting that I include it here. This blog is my journey....becoming closer to fine.

No, Im not cyanotic....this is the color polish my 5 year old picked out for me when we had our pedicures last week. This pedicure thing isnt really a regular happening in my house as I feel it a bit over the top for a 5 year old to get a pedicure, but Chris and Carson wanted to go see Tron and that just wasnt remotely on my list of things I would really like to do, I would actually rather eat my own eyeball, so off we went to Nails So Happy. Yes, this is the real name of the establishment. My nails are so happy and moreover, I dont have to keep my toes curled under as to avoid anyone looking at my obvious disregard for self care. With all the yoga Ive been doing, the self care of the feet is gonna have to be part of the weekly maintaince because, well, because its frankly embarrassing to look at.

Chris and I have laughed at this lineup of running shoes in my closet many times over the past several weeks. I call it my "wall of saddness"...he calls it my "wall of running shoe personality disorder". There is really no common theme here, just a few pairs of shoes for 3 very different runners, but somehow I own all three. Sadly, they sit alone, unused while I play yogi for the next 6 months. How is that going for you , you may ask....its an adjustment to say the least. I found myself single parenting over the weekend and realized that I couldnt go to a class for 2 days, no sitter, etc, etc. Getting back into the groove on Monday was a struggle. I think 2 days without yoga for me is too long. I did a "two a day" practice yesterday for the first time ever and boy did I feel it. I didnt intend to practice twice, it kinda just happened. Today, I hurt, all over....inside and out...physically for many reasons, internally for even more that I will keep to myself, because that is my story and Im good at that. That may be enough material for another blog entirely. Physically, my muscles are mad as hell! I have pushed them to the limits since Monday-DOING YOGA. If you think that this is an oxymoron, step in to any power vinyasa class and find yourself being led on a physical journey that pushes you to show up on your mat for yourself and show up outside of the studio for those around you. The biggest bodily complaint today is my left big toe (bunions, gout? ooh! more body issues to add to the big ole list on my chart) . I cant even begin to figure this one out...maybe another day. Mentally, this yoga experiment has forced me to dig deep inside of me. It is amazing to me that when I practice, it is a true and honest representation of my life off the mat. The way I practice on the mat is directly influenced by how I am living my life off the mat. My fears of failure crop up each time I lean back too far and find myself unsteady, my need to push shows up when I refuse to give in to a pose and begin to suffer, my need to control shows up when I start holding my breath when things get nasty. Its all there....on my simple black yoga mat....maybe this yoga experiment isnt just about maintaining the old me, maybe it is about creating the new me.

I am not 5 ft 7...ok?

This is me and my girls heading for the finish of my first triathon. I came in 3rd overall and felt amazing....It was such a huge accomplishment in my life.

Much like the triathlon finish, being able to come into headstand unsupported in the middle of the room was life changing. I had so much fear in my headstand journey. The wall was my crutch, my safety net. Im learning to let go of some fear, its very difficult for me. The coolest thing about this pose is that my head isnt on the floor at all, but rather hovering just above, using my upper arms to balance....powerful mentally and physically!

I got the pleasure of spending my morning with my favorite GP for my yearly physical. Just love this...get to watch the blank page fill with all of my many ailments and realize that If at 35 I can fill one page, how many will I fill at 60. The future looks bright people. So, I love my GP, however, his office is a tad antiquated and I dont put too much faith in some of the equipment that I see (ie, the EKG machine is the size of a refrigerator and takes 2 nurses to wheel it in the room, the exam table's foot rest doesnt work properly and I find myself continually sliding down, pushing myself back up..repeat.... and the scale is so rickety and old that it hangs to one side when you get on it). So, my height measured 5 ft 7.5 inches. Im fairly certain that this read may have been hampered by the fact that the measuring stick that was hanging onto the back of the scale (think 1950's version of the scale/measuring device combo) probably doesnt measure accurately...just a guess. And the fact that I was teetering on the uneven scale surface while the unpleasant nurse was trying desperately to unstick the corroded measuring device from the rotton crevice that it was stuck in. If I was 5 ft 8 like 6 months ago, then I am surely shriveling up and dying as I type this. It just isnt right. The PA looked at me and said, "Im 5 ft 8 and you are taller than me, strange." OK, Im justified, but I also have to consider that most of my GP's patients are more than likely just glad that they arent dead and the accuracy of one's height is probably low on the list of complaints. So, I measured myself at home and I am still 5 ft 8 and some change. Big relief...Im not shrinking or crazy. Just for the record, there is nothing wrong with being 5'7"...im just NOT and if I am then I have serious osteoporosis and that isnt good. Moving on...Im healthy, BP 110/80, liver panel looks good, yay me:), cholesterol is 180 and Im not 5'7". Ok..really..now I am moving on. Oh and BTW...UGG boots weigh 2 pounds.

My new yoga schedule has me feeling great, but figuring out how to practice everyday has me a little upside down. (refer to above image :). Side Note: Trying to get into this inversion in 10 seconds is tricky and is not advised...trust me on this! Im going to add a class this evening to make it 4 for the week. Chris is out of town this weekend, so I wont be able to practice outside of the home. Im still OK mentally without being able to train at the gym, Im just having to get a little creative with finding time and yoga classes that suit all of my needs.

I am also contemplating at great length why I still put up with my current alarm clock. The package read "wake up to soothing chimes". This sounded right up my ally...soothing chimes, drift effortlessly out of bed, etc, etc. Instead... this thing sounds like (bear with me here) an old tape in a tape recorder that is turning too slow (remember this sound?) The pitch is also so off that it sounds like the chimes are being played underwater or in the belly of a moose or other similar beast. Does this visual help? It also sound like this -bing, bing, bong bong- its horrible. The real question is why have I been using it for 2 years? Why dont I just buy a new one? This is the real issue here. Why?

Running Man and Its All Good!

Back on track! Today was a highly productive day considering the fact that my mini-me daughters slept in the bed with me last night. This has become an expected traditon when Chris is on call. This worked really well when they were 5 and 1, now that they are 5 and 9 and one grinds her teeth like there is no tomorrow, it is a challenge. I dont sleep...but, maybe Ill get parent of the year award. I taught my 9 am power flow class at Mindful Motion Yoga ...awesome energy in the room. I wanted SO badly to hop on a mat right next to my students and practice, but instead, at the end of class, I found myself being totally fulfilled in a BIG way, seeing my students play and take chances...it is priceless. I introduced Running Man to the class today. See image. Its an arm balance that I love, but rarely get to practice. I was in a 75 minute class at Big Fish Power Yoga and this pose was called....I was so happy...I know... its all relative. On days that I teach, I am often tired and rarely get to practice myself, but luckily, I found a 12 noon class to hop into and got in a power hour of my own before the I had to get to carpool. I am so very glad that I did this. I feel amazing. Just FYI, my weight is holding steady at "the number", despite all the sabotage that Ive been doing. After todays mid day class, Im at 2 classes practiced and 3 classes taught...uneven, yes, getting on back on track, yes. I have intention to practice Thurs, Friday and Saturday, making 5 classes for ME. Tonight, I cooked salmon, acorn squash and couscous....if you think that a five year old would never eat this? try it....mine did and asked for THIRDS!! I fully believe that you must introduce whole foods to kids...start the trend while they are young, it works. On a ridiclous note, we did the happy dance at the Roman house tonight because Chris had his big toe nail removed....OK, its SICK, but we are all so very thankful that we dont have to witness him pick and prod this poor appendage any longer. I was frankly getting tired of doing the toe nail remnant damage control every morning. If you dont know my husband, he is an ultrarunner and when I say that I dont mean that he runs a 50k here and there. He is the real deal, and he is heading to Brazil next week to tackle another huge race...353 miles ( Running the Caminho Da Fe). That leaves good ole e home alone with the chicken (my kids). Calgon...take me away? or perhaps something stronger? Would anyone like to adopt a crazy lady and her 2 semi crazy children for 10 days? no? really? Ok...so....I am also considering a 30 day yoga challenge, to practice 4 days a week in a studio, 2 days on my own...can i do this..I dont see much of a choice or my Rag and Bone skinny jeans that my dear sister sent to me from the warehouse will begin to dry rot on my shelf. My husband looks at them every time I wear them and shakes his head and says "Im glad Im not a woman, that is just painful"....actually, he's semi right. It is ridiculous. He gets to wear jeans that are several sizes too big for his skinny a@@ and and can feel good and comfy and stylish, while Im in my trendy jeans feeling...um...stuffed? Anywhoo, its fashion, i get it, I should like it, Im not dead YET. I did, enjoy my new lulu hoodie, didnt realize it had a bloody ponytail hole in the hood until today, interesting. So, until tomorrow...Im still a yogi and I am still sane....for now and my knee (BS) is happy and quiet.

Blood Draws and Blah!

So last April my doctor gave me an order for blood work....guess what I just did TODAY? Yep...blood work. Why does something that takes me 30 minutes cause my whole schedule to be thrown off? Maybe it was the fact that I had to fast prior to the draw and that = no morning coffee, no morning ritual of drinking morning coffee and no spending that precious 30 minutes by myself, waking up and sipping coffee....did I mention that I REALLY enjoy my morning cofffee? So, I had that going for me this morning. I should have siezed this opportunity and done what a real yogi would have done...break out into a beautiful sun salutation as I watched the sun rise over the golf course, but I didnt. Why? I dont have the answer. Maybe this will change about me during my yoga experiement. Why does yoga feel like it has to take place in a studio to be effective sometimes? This I will have to change as most studios dont have childcare and there are only so many hours in the day that there is a class that fits into my schedule while the kids are at school. Since I dont have a full time job, I kinda feel selfish if I do things for myself after the kids get home, I really should get it all during the school day. I did teach my class this morning, even though my arm was still intermittently leaking blood. I also decided to shower this morning .....perhaps further throwing off my day. When I shower in the morning my husband looks at me like Im crazy...like he is saying "what makes today different than yesterday? and are you going somewhere other than to yoga"? Sadly, I have been known to wear my pajamas to many locations around Jacksonville. But, just for the record, my husband wore his slippers out yesterday to pick up our daughter....could it be that my slobbishness is rubbing off on him or are we both crazy? Back to my experiment, I feel very out of shape. I did take a resting pulse today and was surprised that it was still 56 BPM....I feel so blah! The only thing I did toward my experiment today was head to my local lululemon athletica and let my girls there dress me for my experiment. Note: this is NOT part of the experiement and I really dont like to shop, but I had several gift cards to use here and figured now was the time. It was a good thing that I stopped in because I got to connect with fellow yogis and talk about great classes and new studios. All good information for me for future use, just not today on bloody blah day. I will also note that I am squishy...like in the belly and rear squishy, this was made STARTINGLY obvoious in the lulu dressing room mirrors...whose body IS this? Reality check...its not the lighting...this is what happens when you cant physically do what you know works and decide to take the whole month of freaking December off of fitness... I REALLY need to start doing lunges everytime I peel my squishy butt off the couch or spend each commercial break during my Real Housewives (see also: crack in TV form) doing crunches....but not this girl....not for 6 months. If I werent me, I would have taken my yoga core class today and got in a solid hour of core focused yoga, but I AM ME and ME needs to get a better plan here.

WHY?

I guess you could say that this experiment has been born out of sheer frustration. I am at my breaking point with my surgeon and this was evidenced by my unabashed crying jag in his office during my last visit. I dont cry in public...unless I am greatly moved by something. So here is a little background on me and my right knee,which I will further refer to as Black Swan or BS for short. Upon moving to Jax in April of 2007, I fell easily into an active lifestyle. I ran, alot and it was good. I lifted weights, did my 2 weekly power pump classes per week and did at least an hour of cardio 5 days a week. I decided to sign up for my first half-marathon...the Marine Corp Half in October of 2008 (i think). My BS was kinda giving me a little problem, so I did what any other runner I knew would do...I bought an IT band strap, because I sounded like an IT band issue when I plugged my info into google. (BTW...this is DUMB!!! Why do athletes try to self treat? Im learning that pain is real and you should LISTEN). Carrying on, I strapped my IT band thingy on pre race, and noticed that like 25% of the runners had one of these things on...I am so smart...see? I got to mile 7 painfully (mostly due to BS) and then just hobbled and skipped to mile 10 when I called my husband (had my phone because I heard a whisper that I may need it) and cried. He said can you walk? If so, try to finish. So I did. I had to keep my right leg straight and swing it pirate with a wooden leg style, around my body, but I finished. My BS has never been the same since. I took some time off, did the elliptical and spin to replace running. Tried running, was OK at the shorter distances when I decided Id buy a bike and shift my focus to the triathlon. I became a pretty good biker, swimming was natural to me, but that dang running...I entered my first triathlon and came in third overall...I was passed by a 18 yr old in the chute...isnt this against the running law of sportsmanship...not that Im bitter or anything. Maybe I had found my sport...or sports. I was hooked. I signed up for another race and trained hard. I LIKED training. I LIKED my training log. I LOVED watching the days tick off, making a big X over the square when I finished my swim, bike or run. The next sprint was COLD. Water temp was really too cold for the swim...it felt like some one very large sat on my chest and began to smack me over and over while I tried to swim fast. Then I thought that I had encountered a snake (my biggest fear) feeling it wrapping around my wrist (which was really my wet suit cord)...I screamed and took in a huge mouthful of water, gagged and looked longingly at the rescue canoe....i was done..or was I? I calmed down with a very quick rendition of Our Father, began my yoga breathing and finished. Then alas, BS showed up during the run. GREAT!!! Again, I backed off training, did more non impact, spin, swim, elliptical and decided to try running again on Mothers Day. I got 1 mile into my 5 k and just collapsed. Could not walk, could not BELIEVE it ...AGAIN...After an MRI, I saw an orthopaedic surgeon who quickly decided my BS had a meniscus injury that he would fix my BS and I would be running again in 6-8 weeks, then he whisked me off to the OR...well not quite, but you get the idea. This was June 7, 2010. I am still unable to run, cycle, spin with out debilitating pain on the lateral aspect of my BS. I have since had a follow up MRI, because I am obviously an anomaly that no one can figure out how to treat. My doctors last advice was "Well, do whatever doesnt cause you pain". Great....that is comforting. Im not giving up on trying to find a solution to my problem nor am I willing to settle with never running or cycling again. I will likely get a second opinion, but for now I have to decided that for the next 6 months, I will do yoga as my sole means of fitness. All yoga, any yoga, any studio, any style...Im your girl. It is the only thing I can do without pain. I am tracking my progress and my journey from gym to mat. Can I do it? Sure, why not?

The Beginning

Today was back to reality for me and the rest of my sleepy family. The kiddos were shuttled off to school and I dutifully packed my yogitoes, manduka and water bottle, to start my "yoga" experiment(see my post titled WHY? for the whole dang long drawn out story). Since this is an experiment in fitness (both mental and physical) I got on the blasted scale to record the number for future reference. I suppose it would be benefical to include that number here, but one step at a time people. If you know me , you know that Im horribly shy. It usaully comes of as snobbish and aloof, but alas, it is my own lack of self confidence that sends me to the back corner of every room, every conversation (unless I have some wine) and even to the back corner of every yoga studio. So, the number is written on a tiny scrap of paper neatly tucked away for me to post when Im ready....yeah right...it is SEARED in my brain, but i will tell my husband my number to keep it legit. I really am in the process of letting go of the number in my own life journey, but I kinda feel like at the end of this experiment, people will ask, "Did you gain weight?" So Id like to be able to say "Yes or No" with certainty. I am also going to do a little measuring of sorts to be recorded as well. I am researching how to measure physical fitness, I may consult my old trainer and have him do the testing on me so I can say that I had an impartial third party observer. I decided to start my experiment off with a little Baptiste power yoga this morning. It is a highly physical practice and the Benadryl that I took last night gave me a horrible antihistamine hang over , dry mouth, eyes crusted shut, not enough spit to seal my dads birthday card envelope, etc, etc. But i did get to sleep (until my 9 year old came in at midnight unable to sleep herself and then i yelled at her...I feel badly about that...bad mom, but I sooooooo wanted a good night sleep.) She forgave me after I made her a banana chocolate smoothie with my husbands Vitamix (ill talk more about this little number later). Anyhoo, you know those facebook posts that people write that say "so and so ran 320 miles at a 5:45 pace and felt GREAT"? Well, if I posted such things mine would have gone like this today "Erin did 75 minutes of Power Vinyasa Yoga and felt like SH!T"...yes profanity was needed here for emphasis and I tried a few other words but none fit the bill, so Im sorry.