Friday, May 15, 2009

Ready, set, go!

There is nothing like a broken leg to keep you in one spot, staring at the computer screen, and KNOWING with every fiber of your being that you should be WRITING. One of my biggest excuses for not getting that book on paper is "I'm so busy training, I just don't have time."

Now, it is gone, my bike is parked for the summer, and all I can do is stare at this computer, which reminds me every day that I should be putting words on "paper" and using this time wisely. I've always been a multitasker, juggling two or three to-do's at a time, always in the middle of a cleaning project, constantly taking on more volunteer or paid work than I actually have time for.

Now, my days -- especially when the family is gone and it's just me and the animals -- tick by agonizingly slow. I've watched movies in the middle of the day -- how absurd! -- devour books like candy (even the really bad ones), call long lost friends to see what's up. In my good moment, I'll hobble down to the kitchen to try to tidy up or crutch down to the basement to put a load of laundry in. But those chores are painstakingly slow on crutches, and eventually I retreat to the couch or bed or whereever it is I can put my foot up and ease the neverending throbbing.

But: Enough whining. The reality is (after watching "Wendy and Lucy" on pay-per-view, which I swear is my last daytime movie!) I knew I needed to get busy.

So I DID!

Officially opening a document, I started writing. It's likely all gibberish and will end up the victim of the delete button, but for one hour, I just sat down and considered the words. Pounding them out one after another, I still am not attached to the story, but it's a beginning. Maybe it will evolve into something that makes sense. Maybe it will be a small part of something completely different.

It's just that after sitting around for three-plus weeks reading books while I'm laid up, I'm finally bored. I look at the "About the Author" pages and peer at the pictures of these people who just made it happen. They all look normal enough -- why can't I do it too?

Anyway, this post is a bit dull -- I know, maybe my lively story-telling abilities can only last for an hour at a time. But this is a start, and I hope not a stop. You've got to begin somewhere and why not now, with a dead-end story and a laptop easy enough to haul around while on crutches?

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Missing in Action

Taking care of a blog is sort of like remembering to bathe your dog, and let me tell you: MY PUPPY IS DIRTY!

Now for the excuses: Life is in turmoil. About three hours after my husband decided he couldn't take it at his job anymore and told his bosses "no more" (I was SO proud of him!), I crashed my bike, broke my leg, underwent surgery to put it all back together, and have been recuperating ever since. It has been a monumental challenge because I am naturally the sort of person who likes to have about 25 things going on at once, and thrives under pressure.

Now I'm spending my mornings watching "Regis and Kelly" and feeling like my grandmother. A trip to the bathroom is a trek, and going downstairs to put the laundry in is an outback adventure. I need full hours to recuperate after these forays around my house.

As for my so-called Deadlines and Stopwatches, well, they really don't exist anymore. I still have some writing to do, but the training is kaput for the season. I won't see a bike again until fall at least. The races are all swiped off my calendar, the backpacking trips canceled, the campouts postponed. I don't want to think about it too much, because it's all too depressing.

Still, it's not the end of the world, and I know it could be worse. My injuries will heal -- maybe not perfectly, but I WILL ride again. And there will be other summers -- hopefully as beautiful as this one is starting off to be. I've got my family, and my friends' commitment to helping me overcome this challenge -- from cleaning my house, to cooking meals to ferrying the kids where they need to be -- has been humbling. In a way, really, this ordeal has taught me to look outside my own selfish needs or wants and realize how lucky I am.

And if I'm really honest with myself, it has brought me a level of contentment that I didn't realize could exist. In my mind, I've thought "FINALLY." It's a gift. And I treasure it more than anything. I don't want to lose it again.