Speaking Up

Recent events in the news have people talking about when and why people speak up when they see something wrong and when and why people look the other way. I want to think that I would be the person who speaks up and does the right thing, but I also worry that if I were faced with such a moment of truth I would find some way to rationalize what I saw or justify my own inaction.  All this thinking made me remember a time when I did speak up, and a time when I didn’t.

Back in a former life, when I was a stay-at-home mom and licensed home daycare provider, I had training on child abuse issues. I honestly don’t remember many of the details of the course, but I do remember the emphasis on the importance of reporting suspected abuse. Unfortunately, I found myself in a situation where I suspected that a child was being hurt at home. I agonized over what to do, but there were too many questions for me to ignore. I made that very uncomfortable call to child protective services and they conducted an investigation. They determined that the child was alright, but reassured me that I had made the right decision to call them.

Way back in an even earlier life, when I was a teenager working my first “real” job (punching a time clock, cashing a paycheck), one of the managers used his position to put inappropriate pressures on the female employees. I was dating my (now) husband at the time, so I wasn’t a main target, but the atmosphere at work was uncomfortable. After a few weeks, one of my coworkers ended up “dating” him. At the time, that seemed to make his conduct okay, but in retrospect that probably made it worse. (He probably was in his 40s, I don’t think she was 21.) Since this was just a summer job, I quit early to avoid the situation, but my coworker needed the money, so she stayed on.

Looking back, I am proud of myself for speaking up when I did, and hope I draw on that same courage if I ever am faced with a similar situation again.

As for when I didn’t speak up, I don’t think that I realized at the time how wrong that situation was, even though I knew it wasn’t right. I am pretty sure that I would speak up for myself if anyone ever crossed a line like that with me now, but I probably would ignore a random inappropriate comment. On the other hand, if I thought someone else were being harassed, I definitely would speak up.

Have you encountered harassment at work?

Did you do anything about it?

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•Thankful Thursday•

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.

When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.

 ~Matthew 25: 35-40

This week I am thankful to have the opportunity to help others in need.

I am still getting over the fact that Thanksgiving is next week, so I was surprised to see the Angel Tree when I walked into church on Sunday. The Angel Tree is hung with paper angels, each with the first name and age of a person (child or adult) and an item that they want for Christmas. The Angel Tree is very popular. Last year I missed church the first Sunday it was up and missed out on getting an angel.  The new rule is only one angel per person!

Since my kids are older, I like to choose a teenager or adult to buy for. The gifts they ask for are so humbling–a pair of jeans, a purse, rain boots–but I can see how even these basic items could stretch a tight budget. (Each person in this program has two angels, so children may have a clothing item on one and a toy on another.)

We also had a chance to sign up for one of the nights our church is staffing a hypothermia shelter later in the winter. Again, we were warned that if we want to volunteer to cook or serve dinner, we should sign up sooner rather than later. I have done this twice, and it is always an incredibly moving experience. It forces me to face the harsh reality of just how little some people have–imagine being grateful to be able to sleep on a “mattress” no thinker than a yoga mat on a hard linoleum floor.

Writing this post made me remember to clear my calendar for a service project at my son’s school next week. They always have the day before Thanksgiving off, and always have a sandwich making project in the morning, to make hundreds of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that a local organization uses in the “brown bag” lunches they give to their clients.  When I sit down to my family’s Thanksgiving feast, I say a prayer for the people who will be nourished by our simple sandwiches.

Is there a volunteer activity that you enjoy doing?

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Wordless Wednesday (The Birthday Edition)

Four

Five

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Thanks to my mom for digging up these old pictures!) 

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Remembering The Birthday I Skipped

I first published this post last year, but the lessons are just as important this year!

My worst birthday was the one I skipped–literally. Two years ago I went to Australia for work, leaving the day before my birthday. With the time change, I got off the plane the day after my birthday. I did celebrate my birthday before changing my watch. I woke up a few hours out of LAX, asked the steward for a glass of wine and watched WALL-E.

I enjoyed the comfort and attentive service of Business Class, which on a flight to Australia is even nicer than First Class on domestic flights. But, the spacious seats turned out to be a curse. Since I am short, I curled up my legs to get more comfortable–something I could never do in a coach seat–and I slept for hours at a time. At some point, my right calf started to ache. I figured it was a delayed twinge from my last run, or from walking through LAX, or from getting bumped by someone’s suitcase. I stretched it a bit and tried to ignore it.

My flight from LAX landed in Sydney, and then I had to change planes to get to my destination in Melbourne. When I finally arrived at my hotel, my calf really hurt. I went so far as to Google “DVT,” but I decided that I didn’t fit the profile for “coach class syndrome” since (1) I had been in Business Class and (2) I am not an overweight, out of shape business man.

As part of my strategy to adjust to the 14 hour time difference, I spent the afternoon out and about, walking throught the Queen Victoria Gardens and visiting an art gallery.  My leg seemed to get better as I kept moving, and I was able to stay out long enough to stay awake until dinner time. 

Throughout the first half of my 10-day stay “down under,” my leg was tight in the morning, but got better as I moved around. I kept up with my gym workouts for the first few days, but had to trade the treadmill for the elliptical. For the second half of my trip, my work took me to a retreat at a golf resort in Yarra Valley. After one morning in the gym, I decided my free time was better spent walking the gorgeous grounds.

By this time, my calf hurt alot and all the time. I tried to ignore it since I was at a business meeting, but I was limping from time to time and I had to take Advil to sleep at night because it hurt that much. As I look back on this, I am horrified at how much pain I ignored for so long. I think part of it was that I was so isolated. I never called home because of the expense, and I just traded “I miss you” emails with my husband. The clients I was visiting were very nice, but I couldn’t quite let my guard down enough to say, “Excuse me, I am in serious pain and may need medical attention.” So, I pushed through.

I got home the day before Thanksgiving and continued to ignore the pain. I even did some Black Friday shopping. In my defense, the pain would come and go, although I was propping my leg on a pillow in a futile attempt to get comfortable at night.

I think it was Tuesday when I called a vericose vein clinic, thinking that might be my problem. When the receptionist said they could see me in two weeks, I started to cry. When I told her I was in pain, she suggested that I see a doctor. I had a client lunch meeting that day, and had to leave work early to take my daughter to a doctor’s appointment. When we got home, I gave her $20 to order pizza for dinner, and told her I was driving myself to the ER.

I told the triage nurse about my calf pain, and mentioned my recent trip to Australia. My calf was not swollen, red or warm, but they ordered a doppler exam just to be sure. As with most ER visits, there was alot of waiting, but I was at a quiet neighborhood hospital in a single room, so I relaxed as best as I could and read my book. When I finally got the doppler exam, the diagnosis was clear: DVT.

Yikes! I was so fortunate that it stayed in my calf for the almost three weeks that I ignored it–through walking, running, hiking and another trans-pacific flight. I hate to think of what could have happened. I really am lucky to be alive.

The first stage of the treatment was painful–twice daily injections of a blood thinner. I had my husband do it, which probably was harder on him than it was on me because it did make me cry a bit! The next stage was an annoyance–an oral blood thinner and weekly blood draws to monitor and adjust the dosing. (I learned to get to the clinic 15 minutes before it opened, so I could be among the first few patients to be seen.) I was banned from any real cardio, although I become devoted to daily dog walks.

My doctor didn’t tell me how long I would be sidelined, and that was probably a good thing. If I had been told in November that I wouldn’t be able to run until May, I might have gone into a serious tailspin. As it was, I learned gradually that it was going to take a while for the clot to heal and new veins to grow, and I was able to take it in stride.

I learned so many important lessons from this experience.

First and foremost, I really do need to take care of myself. I put my work, clients and family first, but that put my health at serious risk.

Second, while some aches can be ignored, true pain demands attention. In the world of exercise and fitness, we take pride in pushing through and basking in the delayed-onset muscle soreness a good workout can bring, but we need to recognize when something is wrong and get it checked out.

Third, I now appreciate being healthy enough to run because I realize that I may not always be. I hope I’m never sidelined for 6 months at a time again, but I know that injuries and illness are inevitable.

Fourth, I can survive without running and enjoy other ways of staying fit. During my forced time off from running, I reconnected with my elliptical and made friends with my free weights. I brought more balance to my fitness routine, and I’ve tried to hold on to that.

As I get ready to celebrate another birthday, I am glad for the lessons I learned from the one I skipped!

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Fabulous Fall Foliage

This weekend I had a 10 mile run on tap, as part of my program to get ready for the Hot Chocolate 15K. Although I ate lunch outside in short-sleeves on Monday, by Saturday morning the weather had changed and it was cold!

I opted for a mid-weight long-sleeve shirt, my new Athleta running tights, light-weight gloves, light-weight earband, and a cap–oh, and my new Momentum Anita Active sports bra from Athleta! I was worried about being cold without a jacket, but it ended up being perfect.

I was halfway to the bike path when I realized that I had forgotten my Garmin. Although I had my iPhone, it won’t fit in my Nathan fuel belt. (Please, won’t someone make a fuel belt that holds a full size water bottle and an iPhone???) I decided to use the mile markers on the bike path to mark my distance (they are not as accurate as the Garmin, but they are pretty close) and used the stopwatch on my iPod to mark the time.

Since my iPod was safely zipped away during my run, I had no idea what pace I was keeping. I decided that leaving my Garmin at home was a good opportunity to “just run” without being tempted or taunted by split times.  My breathing was pretty easy unless I was nearing the top of a steep hill, and I didn’t feel like I was running hard.

Without my watch to glance at, I had to focus my attention on this:

(I’m impressed by the photo quality from my new iPhone!)

As I neared my finish point, I fumbled with my iPod to access the stopwatch and figure out how to stop it (note to self: that is not a touch screen!). I was surprised to see the time read 1:30:50.  That meant I had kept up a 9:00-ish pace on a hilly route without feeling like I was exerting myself!

As I walked to cool down, I looked across the river and could see the site of the Hot Chocolate 15K. I couldn’t help but notice how the road seemed to go straight up after the bridge. After this run, I am just about ready to declare: Bring it! 

(But I’m glad I have a few more weeks of training.)

Did you get to enjoy fabulous fall weather this weekend?

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