Being Off Balance

     This week has been an interesting one for me personally, professionally, and in the sense of my physical fitness. The best way for me to describe this week is that I am, unquestionably, off-balance. The Earth is tilted off of its axis, I can't tell if gravity is working the same way, and I'm pretty sure the water in the toilet is flushing backwards. It hasn't been since my son was born that I have felt this way; like time is both slowing down and speeding up.

     It's been interesting for me personally because this is the first time in five years that I have had the house to myself; no wife, no toddler; just two dogs, a cat, and a fish. Five years is a long time in terms of not really interacting with my wife or kid. It's just a weird feeling. Luckily I've been able to talk to both my wife and child on the phone in the evening and facetime them when the situation allows. Before we got married, I lived alone for about 6 months and didn't really think too much about it, but now they've become so much a part of my routine that I have been slightly off-balance all week.

     Professionally, and maybe because of my personal experiences this week, I've been off-balance and short of patience. It's January, it's cold, and students and adults alike are getting cagey. I love what I do, I've said it here a thousand times already, but let's just say that all parties involved are fortunate that we had two snow days this week. With a snow day yesterday, I was able to get some work done and plan ahead for an exciting field trip in the spring, so I'll count it as a good day.

     What really struck me today, and is a sort of culmination of all of the other off-balance aspects of my life this week, was my physical fitness. Recently, my wife and I have been exercising 3-4 times per week at the Y. This has been great, obviously, for our physical fitness but more importantly it has been good for our mental staying power. In my family's absence this week, I have decided to take advantage of the extra time and work out a little more. Today is Thursday and if I get a workout in today it will make 4 days in a row. Monday was the showcase of my week where I ran 8 miles (cue Eminem music here) in 1:20.29 for a 10:04 mile pace. Slower than what I like, but it was the first time I had run more than 5 miles since September. Of course, being alone with my thoughts more this week allowed me to reflect more on our exercise and my running.

     It has become so "in my face" apparent that when you run, your attitude, mentality, and sense of balance is exposed as soon as you hit the pavement (or in this case with sub-zero temperature, the treadmill). Nothing exposes what's in my head faster than a run, it's like my brain kicks into overdrive. So on Monday, while I was slogging away on the treadmill, a million different things moved through my head. Of course it was kind of a boring run, staring at the wall in front of me for over an hour, so I had to deal with those thoughts of wanting to get off and do something else, but once I settled in other thoughts took hold.

     First, I missed my wife and son. Of course I did, I haven't gone more than a day without my son since he was born and haven't gone a day without seeing my wife in 5 years; I miss them like crazy. I also thought about work; what do I need to do to be a better teacher and mentor to the students around me? Am I doing the right thing (the answer came back yes)? Then my thoughts turned towards some "life shaping" events from last year, things that I carry with me almost daily in some form.

     The first thing was the passing of my grandfather. Robin R. meant more to me than I realized and he will forever be one of the greatest mysteries of my life. I was fortunate enough to spend more than usual time with him before I graduated college, but I realized this past summer how shallow my conversations with him had been. He was a Marine, the Mayor of his town, and a superb human that embraced his faults and shied away from no challenge, even throughout his drawn out illness. I learned so much just by watching him, but I never took the chance to ask him more meaningful questions. He was a man of faith, but we never talked about it. He was a Freemason, but we never talked about it. He was a larger than life man that was crammed into about a 5'4" body. He was not without his faults; he could have a temper, and he was the type of smart that couldn't understand why others weren't as smart. We tend to hero-ize the dead, but he had a lasting effect on me, despite his faults, because if nothing else, he taught me that we persevere despite them. More than anything, he always showed love and the way he interacted with my son just a few weeks before his passing is the memory I choose to hold onto more than anything else, because it showed more of his character than almost anything else I can remember.

     The next shaping event from the last twelve months that I thought about on that long run on the treadmill was my wife's miscarriage in October. Thousands of families go though this every year, sometimes more than once, and it is emotionally and physically trying on all people involved. I cannot even begin to imagine what my wife went through and how she thinks about it now; I can't feel that pain the way she does because it is wholly unique to her and I won't pretend to know it. As a father, however, it rewired my brain. This miscarriage was a month long process- first, there was no heartbeat, then there was, and for three weeks we were in the doctor's office, seeing our little nugget on the screen but knowing that they were slowly fading. We had to have conversations I never thought we would have to even consider, and I was concerned about my wife's physical and mental well-being. I prayed harder in that month than I had ever prayed before; but they weren't all prayers for a miracle turn around or a "God-fix" of our problems. They were prayers for closure and for the safety of my wife. I can't pretend to know why the plans laid for us are the way they are; all I know is that the clock turns the same for all people and no personal heartbreak or disaster changes that.

     I carry with me these events all the time, but they were foremost in my brain during that 8 mile run. I thought about how life isn't a straight and narrow path; it's hilly and it curves, and sometimes the road is closed and you have to trek through some mud in the process. I thought about how I've mourned more in the past year than have in the past 27 and how I've grown through that. I've asked for opportunities to grow my patience and I received that; albeit not in the form I would have preferred, but opportunity knocks in its own way. That run let me process so many different things- the physical stress my body endured allowed some mental and emotional stress to lessen.

     I am fortunate in my life. With my wife, we have been able to construct a life we are proud of and happy with. Our cup runs over without question. But every person experiences loss and heartache at some point in their life, and it looks different to all people. If you really want to see who you are and where your head is, lace up some shoes. Go for a walk or run. Your brain turns off all of the things that are urgent but unimportant and really narrows down on the things that stick. Running off balance helps me focus on what matters; the relationships I value, the losses I've endured, and the appreciation for what is in front of me. I've run enough now that I don't believe in a "runner's high", but I do believe that there is value in labor because your brain can clear the clutter and narrow its focus.

     Running may have saved my brain and it has certainly saved my body. It doesn't matter how fast or how far you run; a 12 minute mile is the same distance as a 6 minute mile. Running reveals things about character and our own mental health. After writing all this, I think I know what workout #4 is going to be this week.

Thanks for reading.