Little adjustments

Sometimes I think that it is the small, incremental changes in life that are the hardest to handle.  Big changes are...well...big.  They require a complete overhaul of life, a paradigm shift, or a drastic leap (in one direction or the other) away from everything that you are used to.  While I would never make the claim that these big changes aren't difficult, it's just that adjusting to them and accepting them as they occur can sometimes happen more suddenly.

For comparison's sake, let's think about when you wake up in the morning.  Say, for example, you wake up at 7:30 every morning (lucky you).  As you start the week, you realize that on Wednesday morning you have a very early meeting and you are going to have to wake up at 5:30, 2 hours earlier, in order to make it on time.  While you probably will dread this, here's what you might do to prep for it: on Tuesday night, you might decide to skip a workout or happy hour and make dinner early.  You'll put yourself to bed early.  Then in the morning when that 5:30 AM alarm goes off, it still sucks, but at least you're prepared for it. [note: this, of course, only applies to planned big changes.]

Now, keeping in mind that 7:30 typical wake up, let's say that Friday morning you realize that you have to stop by the grocery store on the way to work and pick up some snacks for a staff lunch party.  To accommodate for the extra time this will take, you decide to set your alarm for 7:15.  Since it's only a 15 minute difference, you don't alter your Thursday evening schedule.  You may try to get in bed a little early but don't really fall asleep until your normal time anyways.  And then in the morning when the alarm goes off, you can't believe it's already time to get up.  To be able to sleep for another 15 minutes would feel amazing, but you peel yourself out of bed anyways.  And for the rest of the day, that 15 minutes lingers with you.  By the end of the day, you're exhausted.

For those planned big changes, you prep yourself.  You get yourself ready.  You make sure you are set up for success when that big change arrives.  But for little changes, you think to yourself "eh, no big deal" and let them arrive.  But as little as that change is, you feel it like a big one.  Because you didn't ready yourself for it.  It throws you off kilter enough for you to notice a difference, but not necessarily want to do anything about it.

When it comes to change, I'd say I've done a pretty good job learning how to handle the big ones.  A few major job changes, a cross-country move to a city where I knew exactly one person, becoming a marathoner--all these things have helped me to feel comfortable with pre-planned big changes.  In fact, oftentimes I look forward to these changes.  Because I usually choose to make them happen at just the point when I need a change.

But little changes...that's a different story. I hate waking up 15 minutes early (even though I have do it every Thursday morning).  And that's the smallest of the little changes.  But when I have to make little changes, or adjustments to my life, things seem to be off kilter for longer than the big changes.  It takes me a lot longer to find my equilibrium when I'm changing things just a little bit at a time.

Take my running right now.  I'm still not fully recovered.  I've been injured for almost 5 months now.  And I still can't figure out the balance that I need to stay healthy.  Every week, I run on different days, for different distances, at different paces, and I've been slowly altering my run/walk intervals.  But no matter what I do, no matter how little or how much I push myself, I can't find the balance that makes everything feel better again.

Running kind of feels like this right now.  I'm out there and I'm doing it and
for the most part I'm enjoying it, but I have no idea what's coming up around
that next bend in the road.

Last Wednesday, I went for an amazing run.  I was itching to put some miles on my legs, but hesitating to do too much.  I've been sticking to Green Lake loops lately so that I can cut things short if anything starts to hurt.  But I decided to be daring on Wednesday.  I decided to tackle one of my hillier, longer loops through Ballard.  It was pouring rain, and after a trying day with my first graders, all I wanted to do was run--and run fast.  So I did.  I still stuck to my current 8:1 interval, but even with the walk breaks included, I logged some paces I haven't seen on a 5+ mile run in quite a while.  It was one of those days where everything felt strong and great--even the rain.  I let the rain soak through me and pound against me, and it only made me fight harder.  While nothing is pain-free yet, I was almost able to forget about my nagging knee.

Then I let myself rest for 2 days and went out to coach a TNT practice on Saturday morning.  We took some hilly loops through Discovery Park and Magnolia, and I was less than 2 miles into the run when my knee pain intensified and didn't stop for the rest of the 12 mile run.  It was the first time I ever had to consciously make the choice to try to run less miles during a coaching run.  So frustrating.

I can't help but continue to be frustrated with the ups and downs of running for me when all these little adjustments I keep trying to make just don't seem to be working quickly enough.  And then I remember that they are little adjustments.  I need to give them time.  I definitely have a lot more good days than bad days now.  But what's funny is, as much as I have an endless font of patience for my first graders and my job, I have very little patience when it comes to running.  I want to be better and I want to feel good now.  I'm tired of all these little adjustments that might slowly be working their way towards an equilibrium.

But running isn't the only thing I'm making adjustments for right now.  There's also this little lady:

My lovely little snuggle-muffin.

Lucy and I have been spending that last 2 weeks adjusting to life with Penny.  And the strangest thing about adding Penny to our family was that it wasn't a big change.  When I made the whim of a decision to bring Penny home, I expected life to be very different.  I expected to have to make some big changes to me and Lucy's comfortable routines.

Somewhat unsurprisingly considering serendipity of events that occurred in order for me and Penny to meet and quickly fall in love, Penny has absorbed herself with ease into my and Lucy's life.  However, once I realized that Penny wasn't a drastic change in our lives, it became more challenging for me to make the little adjustments necessary for Penny.

The biggest example is our morning walks.  Penny is still going through this hesitant, not-sure-about-walking thing.  I've realized that it mainly is a result of anything to do with the sky.  She definitely does not like rain.

I bought her this snazzy little jacket.  She loves it so much she even helps
me put it on her.

She also doesn't like things in the sky.  We passed by a park and she spotted some sort of toy hovercraft in the sky (I never would have noticed it, but she zoned in on it until I was able to spot it).  She was shaking with fright for the rest of the walk.  She also doesn't seem to like tall walls next to her or loud buses.

In general, we've had to make a lot of adjustments on our walks.  I've changed up some of our routes.  In the mornings, if it's raining, Penny only comes out for a potty break--then we drop her back off at home and Lucy and I continue on our way.  This has eaten into a little bit of Lucy's morning exercise time.

When Penny does join us for long walks, I'm now juggling two leashes and often, since they seem to be quite in sync with their potties, I could also be carrying 2 poop bags along with those leashes until we find a garbage can.

It's not always easy managing both of these two, especially when another
four legged friend walks by.  Penny will wiggle her butt with all her might
with excitement to say hello, which puts Lucy a little on edge and lunging
where she didn't previously.

Every morning/afternoon walk is a question.  How will Penny do?  Where will we be able to go, and how far?  Will she get scared, or will this be an okay walk?  What was once the most relaxing part of my day--a long walk with Lucy--has now become something a little more involved.

Not that I'm complaining.  I love Penny and wouldn't trade her for anything.  It's just a little adjustment.  Which for me, takes a lot of getting used to.

Other small adjustments that I've had to make for Penny include giving up 3/4 of my queen size bed to a 40lb dog, learning to share my overabundance of puppy love equally between two lady-dogs, and learning how to type on a laptop with a dog in my lap.

This puts quite a strain on the finger-typing muscles along the length of
my right arm.

I also can no longer go to the bathroom alone.

"Whatcha doin in here, mom?"

All these little changes, whether from running or Penny, haven't been easy.  But as with any challenge I've faced up until now, I'm learning a ton.  And the biggest benefit I think I'm getting out of all of this?

I'm learning to be flexible.

Flexible with my time.  Flexible with my routines.  Flexible with the trivialities of daily life.

I've always considered myself to be a pretty flexible person when it comes to working with/socializing with people.  But when it comes to my own personal routines, flexibility has never been something I've desired or needed to have in my single (and single-dog) life.  And if becoming more flexible with my personal "me" time is a side-effect of all these small adjustments, I'll take it.  

Now that I'm 30, I figure it's about time I learn to let go of a little bit of that rigidity.  Because I'd hope in the not-too-far-away future, that flexibility will start to come in handy.

And in the meantime, whenever things to start feel a little too overwhelming, I'll just take a look at these two:

And then everything will be all better.