The Messy Middle

First, thank you to all of you who have reached out in the comments or via email to offer support and encouragement. I really, really appreciate it.

Divorce Stuff

Life is going. Time is passing. It’s almost been a month since we have separated. I feel like I’m living dichotomously. I am fine. I’m a mess. Sometimes thoughts of the impending divorce escape me and I forget for hours. Then the reality hits and I feel like I’m in emotional free fall. I’m scared of my new, unplanned future. I’m excited about the possibilities of the future. I have moments of sincere tenderness towards others. I have moments where I want to punch random people in the face.

And life goes on. Work. Walk the dogs. Putter around the house. Hang out with friends. Exercise. Eat. Read. Sleep. Repeat.

My initial weight loss after the separation has stalled (goodbye 14 lbs). I didn’t work out much in the two weeks after the separation. I was in shock and aimed to distract myself with others. I was good at distracting myself; I was with friends or traveling for work for two straight weeks after the separation. Finally I realized I needed some time to myself, some time to sit and think, some time to process.

And I’ll be honest: that time, it sucks. But I feel like I have to go through it, I need to let myself feel what I’m going through now so it doesn’t somehow creep into my life in 10 years when there is no context for it.

So that’s where I’m at. In the messy middle. I’m not falling apart at the seams, I’m not in some deep depression where I can’t get out of bed, and I’m not face first in a carton of Ben & Jerry’s. I know I’ll be fine. I’m just not ok right now. And I’ve just got to get through it.

Exercise

This week I started my formal training for the Women’s Running Magazine Women’s Half Marathon. I’m using the EZ Half Marathon Training Schedule. Tonight I registered for the half marathon because, make no bones about it, I want that damn medal. Look how pretty it is! LOOK!

The length of a Half Marathon didn’t really hit me until this weekend. On Sunday I went on a long bike ride with two of my friends on St. Mark’s Trail. We rode 14 miles, just .9 miles more than I’ve signed up to walk. It. Was. Long. I enjoyed it, it was a beautiful ride, but it gave me a very real understanding of just how long 13.1 miles is. It is daunting. It will be a challenge. I am up for it.