How To Write (And Finish) A Dissertation In 9 Months

I started writing my dissertation in August of 2010 and I finished the first draft February 2011 and submitted the next to final draft in April of the same year.  The April submission was the one I defended one month later in East Lansing, MI to an audience of 12 or so people.  How did I do it?  Simply put...I sat my ass down in a chair and wrote.

And I wrote and wrote and wrote until my behind grew a bit bigger and the pages increased in numbers.  But, there was a game plan to my madness that I found worked for me and maybe it can work for you (depending on your committee and requirements).

I decided to stay in the UK to write as I had a job as a researcher and social policy analyst.  My partner was also with me having given up his job in the US and obtaining a 3 year work permit.  We wanted to make a new life in the UK and I had no intentions of returning to the US (well at that time).  Come the summer of 2010 I discovered one my committee members was leaving the university at the end of the 2011 school year so I knew I really needed to get my dissertation in before he left or risk putting someone on my committee who I did not know at a late stage in my degree.  This ended up happening anyway - and lucky the person who came on was amazing and didn't try to change anything.

Given all of this I made a work plan and stuck to it like white on rice (cheesy but effective).  After doing an outline of the chapters and what should go into them I focused on a chapter a month.  Really, this is do-able if you have transcribed your interviews along the way and written out your field notes (this I HIGHLY recommend you do). 

Each chapter was reviewed by my major adviser the following month and we had a phone meeting scheduled in each month to review the submitted chapter.  This meant a continuous write, hand-in, phone meeting, revise routine. But this allowed me to be accountable to someone and to get feedback early enough in the process to stop me from going in the wrong direction.  I wrote chapters out of order as the theory and methodology chapters were much easier to write then the data or introduction.  And really, the conclusion won't come until you have done multiple drafts of the other chapters. 

But, I was not just writing full time. I also had my job.  This meant my brain and fingers were always going and my ass was always glued to a seat.  Not my ideal situation, but it made me keep to a schedule as I had no time to just wallow solely in dissertation misery.

Seven months later I had enough of a draft to send out to the full committee.  By March 1st I was sitting in my home office on Skype with them to discuss my work.  I was full of hope since I had been revising along the way but that hope was quickly crushed by the onslaught of critique I endured (mainly from members of my committee who had refused to give me feedback along the way).  Multiple things were not up to par for members of committee- primarily in the way I wrote up my findings.  I was not strong enough in the delivery and too timid in the use of the information I presented.  I agree with most of it - I was too tired to argue much and I just wanted the damn thing passed.  I said give me a month and I will give you want you all want.  Everyone was skeptical I could turn it around in time to defend.  I wasn't though  -I wanted to be out of school and working so I took a month off of work and just wrote.

I wrote and wrote and wrote, working 12 hour days in my office.  Rockstar energy drinks and popcorn became my new best friends and I was permanently in sweatpants and t-shirts.  I focused on the critiques I was given and made sure to address them in my revisions.  I added two new chapters and fixed the hell out of my others.  In 31 days I produced the document that would allow me to defend. But - and this is KEY - I also submitted with the dissertation a one-page document outlining the 5 major issues the committee found with the first draft. I then said how I addressed each of those issues and gave the exact location in the dissertation where those changes could be found.    This made my committee happy and as they all say - happy committee happy life.

So there you go - writing a dissertation in nine months, or less, is do-able.  But before I go I just want to impart a few lessons I learned along the way, some of which  you might (or most likely) have heard already. 

1) The dissertation is NOT your life's work - it is the BEGINNING
     
        I think too many times grad students think that dissertation has to be perfect and is the culmination of your life's work.  That is ridiculous - you have never written a dissertation before (unless you have already received a PhD and then if so you are ridiculous for getting another).  This is a learning process and the dissertation is evidence that you know how to conduct a research project and write up the results in a suitable manner for you field.

2) Your dissertation topic DOES NOT HAVE TO BE your life's work

        After spending anywhere from 3 to 10 years on one topic you just might become sick of that topic. It's normal and apart of life.  Your future research, if you choose to still remain in research, does not have to be on the same topic(s) as your dissertation.  Again, the dissertation is about showing you can do research and the skills you learned should be transferable.

3) You DON'T HAVE TO GO INTO ACADEMIA if you don't want to....and you are not a "failure" if you don't

      This is a topic that comes up again and again amongst people I know.  When you started as a grad student you were most likely full of energy and hope.  You had some amazing vision of sitting in an office with books all around talking with students and coming up with theories.  This was heaven and you were working towards it.  Fast forward 5 to 10 years later and you are tired, annoyed, and trying to just finish your degree before you debt becomes astronomical.  Then, when you are done you realize you might not want to go right into the academy.  Maybe you want to take a few years and work in the public or private sector, for an NGO, or just bum around the world.  You know what - that's OK.  Again, how are you to know what you will feel in the future?  So, if your plans change roll with it.  But, don't allow others opinions to influence your life decisions once you have the diploma in hand.  Take what you learned during your studies and find the path that is right for you. 

4) You are MORE THAN your dissertation

     It's funny how easy this is to forget.  You are you and you is a multifaceted being.  What you research is just that - what you research. It is not who you are.  It's simply what you do, and only one aspect of what you do.  You also may sing, paint, run, read, tell funny stories, drink, smoke.  But your dissertation and graduate school is simply one aspect of what you do.  Remember that the next time someone is bragging to you about all the articles they have drafted while writing up 4 grants and reading Foucault on the side for fun.  Tell yourself that's what they do and be happy you do other things. Most of the time the talk is all for show. 

5) Check your EGO at the door

      Let's face it - if you want to complete a PhD you need to check your ego at the door.  You will be critiqued, critiqued and critiqued some more.   I found that you have to separate your personal feelings from the task at hand, which is to learn the necessary skills that will allow you to say you are an expert in a particular academic field.  This means you have to learn when and how to pick your battles and let your work, and not always your mouth, speak for itself.  Now, I have heard horror stories of committees not getting along and advisers not passing students.  I had my fair share of committee drama during my Masters defense.  But, if you can navigate the egos you will encounter in these processes then when you are done you can navigate just about anything.

So, this is just my two-cents on how I navigated the dissertation write-up.  Feel free to share your own experiences.  But to all those writing up I wish you well.  Keep truckin and remember...

I'm Back...And Moving To The USA!

Well after a five month hiatus from blogging I've done a few things.

I got a German Shepard puppy named Whiskey:

I went crazy finishing my PhD:

I become a Project Manager at work:

Lost, gained and then gained some more dissertation weight:

And now after 2 years in the UK Mike and I are moving back to the US of A at the end of June to start anew.

My friends Ally and Sam at my graduation

It's been an interesting time in my life. I spent 12 years working towards the goal of becoming a doctor. Through all the moves across the world, writing assignments, grants, conference talks, late nights and heartache I never really thought it would end. It's hard to see the finish line when there are so many obstacles to cross beforehand. But, this past school year it all fell into place. The research ended, the words began to flow, my ass became glued to my desk chair and the weight piled on. After nine months I gave birth to a 170 page document that showcased my "expertise" in the field of anthropology. I defended my work, received my hood, drank my whiskey in celebration and now I can put the big "Dr." before my name. What now?

That "what" is a move - it's what I do best. My next move is back to the good old USA to figure things out. I am determined to get into social policy and research and stay out of the academy for a while. The best way to do this is to make my way to the nation's capital and the surrounding areas. It's not what I envisioned, or what I thought I wanted. Yet, if I have learned anything in the last decade of my life is that life is a funny bitch and it's all about the hustle:

When I just don't want to move...

When I get the urge to sit on my backside in front of the computer and not move my body like it should be moved I look at this ad and promptly my backside is out the door.



What gets you out when all you want to do is stay in?

My Body

It's the New Year.  As we all know the new year brings with it new (and old) resolutions.  Some people want to stop smoking, others learn yoga, travel, meditate, find a partner/break up with a partner...the list goes on and on.  But the number one resolution that seems to be pouring from newspapers, TV, the Internet, and people's lips is to...wait for it...LOOSE WEIGHT!  Now, I can't lie.  That is kind of one my resolutions as well and has been for the past 2-3 years.  But, being inundated with constant messages about loosing weight to feel great in the New Year got me thinking about my relationship with my body.  If I had to give it a Facebook status I would say "it's complicated."

I'm 6'3" - I've mentioned this before I'm sure.  I am also a female (just in case you forgot).  My hair is curly, my skin is brown, and my mouth is loud.   Over the years I have loved, hated, despised, embraced, hated, despised, loved, embraced, hated, despised...you get the point...my body.  During the down times I realize I detested my body because I felt it did not look or feel feminine enough.  My body was too tall, my shoulders too broad, my hair too short - or if long it was too curly and big, my weight too high.  OH WEIGHT - really it mostly boiled down to that fact that I was just too damn big to be feminine.  To be a female and be comfortable in my femaleness.  Even at my leanest I still, at times, felt too big because my body was strong and muscular due to long sessions at the gym and on the trail and the woman around me small and petite and able to fit into a size 6

But, it's a new year after all and so I decided a new year needs new ideas and beginnings.  For the past three years I have belittled myself internally for gaining and loosing weight.  For starting and stopping training programs.  For allowing stress and school/work to get in the way of my body's well being.  But all that has left me with is frustrations, self-doubt, and a pain in my ass (from the sciatica).  Then I read two interesting articles that, after letting them ruminate in my mind for a bit, made me rethink this whole resolution thing.

The first was a blog post from Jezebel called "A Call to Arms (and Abs, Quads, Calves and Shoulders)."  The author writes about her own frustrations with lady fitness magazines always having articles about loosing weight - and not about being ft and healthy.  For a woman, working out = loosing weight and looking good FOR OTHER PEOPLE.  But what about all the women who work out to build muscle, jump higher, run longer/faster, climb better, swim harder.  What about women who work out cause they want a strong body that allows them to keep moving into old age?  What about woman who want to challenge their mind, body and soul?  Who want to push their limits and see what they can do?  What about all the women who dont' give a rat's ass about being a size 2 but want to see if they can bench 200lbs?

Reading that article over and over again I realized...shit that's me!  I want to see how long I can run for, how much I can push my physical and mental being.  I want to see muscle replace fat in order to make my body move in ways I can only imagine. I want to be 70, 80, hell maybe even 90 and running ultramarathons in random places around the globe.  I realized, finally, I just want to be me.

But, I was only half way there.  I still saw myself as a fat slob, a blob, that was doomed to repeat this damn cycle over and over again.  During the holiday season I was gluttonous - eating whatever was in front of me and drinking even more. I constantly woke up hungover, either from food, drink or both.  I told myself I was "relaxing," but really I was depressing (myself).  I ran once, lifted twice, and felt like shit three times over.

Then New Years Eve hit and I looked at Mike and said, "Dude after tonight I can't keep doing this.  Something's not right and I feel like crap."  Mike looked at me and replied, "That's good but you got to start loving yourself more for this to stick.  You got to love you for you now, and not what you want to be."  DAMN...the truth hurts.

Three days later, as if the universe wanted to smack my upside the head some more, I saw an article in the Daily Mail (yes I read it sometimes) about...loving yourself slim.  Basically it was the long form of Mike's advice - you can't reach your goals until you love yourself for who you are at that moment.  It makes sense really.  How am I going to lean out, and stay lean, if I am constantly critiquing and ridiculing my body?  How am I going to run longer if I keep telling myself I am to slow, to big, to knock-kneed to increase the miles?  It's self-sabotaging.  If I think I am fat and will always be fat and will never be able to run past a certain mileage or a certain time then I won't.  Why?  Because the slightest hick-up will be made into an end-all-be all, an all or nothing and I'll fall off the wagon (again).  It's with anything in life.

Finally, I saw an article (the same night) in The Guardian about bad-ass Ironman athlete Chrissie Wellington.  This woman has won Kona three times (the first win was her first time in the race), has set numerous records around the goal, and is just overall my hero.  She makes no qualms about her body and embraces her faults.  She strives to push her body to the limits and is considered by many to be the greatest female endurance athlete on the planet.  Not bad for a woman who didn't even start doing athletics until her 20s!

I guess the point of this long rant is that I decided to make a new, New Years Resolution.  Instead of striving to loose X amount of weight in Y amount of time and getting frustrated if that does not happen, I instead resolve to love my body more.  Just pure and simple LOVE.  LOVE every inch of my height, every amount of flesh, every strand of my curly (quickly greying) hair.  In doing so I make it a priority to treat my body with respect - and respect for me is washing it, caring for it, watching what I put in my body, and working it out so it does not become stiff and underused.  The more I love my body the more my body will love me.  I think that's a resolution I can, and should, stick to.

What do you resolve to do in 2011?

Goodbye 2010...Hello 2011

As the New Year closes so does my brain.  I have been on "holiday" since December 18th from my job and since the 23rd from my dissertation.  During this time I have ate a lot, drank a fair bit, worked out a little and overall felt tired, bloated, annoyed, anxious, excited and...dare I say hopeful!

2010 has been a year of ups and downs, like more years.  I started the year hiking a mountain in the snow in Northwest Wales. By March I had run a half marathon in Prague and trimmed 25 lbs off my frame.  April hit and with it a hip injury that only progressively got worse over the year due to my stubbornness and not properly resting.  By late June I visited the States, saw some family and friends, and met my advisor who told me my initial outline of my dissertation was crap.

It was here that I began my anxiety ridden second half of the year.  July was full of festivals, data transcriptions and theoretical readings.  By August I had turned the big 2-9, wrote my first chapter, and I dropped out of my second half marathon.  September thru December was more of the same same, but different.  I continued to write, work, work out less, went on a few walks, became more irritated, dabbled in yoga, and then wrote some more.

Now I sit here on December 30, 2010 writing some more and planning to stop soon because it is just making me more annoyed.  But, the good thing is the dissertation is there. I am really just now making massive edits to the five chapters I have and plodding through until February 7th when I submit the first full daft to my entire committee.   For the New Year I intend to write a bit more, run a hell of a lot more, get a dog, graduate with my PhD and finally....just finally...maybe I can just be and enjoy my life.

But really Katt Williams says it best...




What do you hope the new year will bring you?

Stroke, Float, Sink...Repeat

The cold weather is slowly setting in throughout the Southwest over here in the good-old UK.  Barefoot running is more like numb foot running and my hips are acting up to much for me to even enjoy the sport at the moment so my runs have become minimal.  So I am trying to make the pool my friend at least once a week to take the pressure of my joints while I get the blood flowin and the heart pumpin.

Problem is...the water and I aren't friends or really even associates yet.  We have this weird relationship.  If I don't visit the pool on a regular and consistent basis then when I do get in I feel as if she is going to swallow me whole and then spit me out.  It's like she is back handing me and making me feel bad for cheating on her with the rowing machine or free weights.  I then feel I need to tell her it's not her...but me.  My confidence in the still body of water is still minuscule.  I can kick and stroke but not for very long or very far and if I can't put my feet on the floor then I don't go in...PERIOD.

However, that has to change because I have gotten this crazy idea in my head that I want to learn how to row next year and I want to join the Bristol women's rowing club.  But to take the learn how to row class I need to be able to swim 100 meters in light clothes - makes sense if I am to be in a BOAT in the middle of a BODY of WATER.

Now some of you might be thinking "Why would you want to learn to row if you don't necessarily like the water?"  Answer: "Why the hell not?"  See I miss a team sometimes.  I miss the camaraderie between teammates and the fun of being active with a group of people.  Plus, it's a good way of making friends in a new place where I am still learning the local ways of...making friends.  Besides, it just looks cool.

I mean let's face it - I taught myself to run long distances even when doctors told me I might not be able to even walk properly again.  I jumped out of a plane twice in one day attached to another person.  I got myself on a bike at age 27 and learned to not fall of.  I made myself get in the water and learned to at least get my feet off the floor and kick not long after.  I even found myself on a side of a mountain in snow on a new years morning with no crampons and a bad fear of heights, and got back down without killing myself.  So I figure if I can get myself to make the water my friend then I can find myself one day in the middle of a lake in a row boat with 5 other women working up a sweat and getting some definition back into my shoulders and back.

Today I got back into the pool.  Second time in two weeks.  I said hi to the water, took a deep breathe, and pushed off the wall all by myself.  I had Mike stand next to me instead of in front and I made it down and back again - stopping only 7 (ok maybe 8) times.  6 lengths total which is a nice start for me.  It's a shallow pool. I still have problems learning how to breathe, and my body gets tired quick with the new movements but dammit I will be able to swim 100 meters in light clothes so I can at least see if I can learn how to row a bit farther.  I'll keep you updated.

Oh and HAPPY AMERICAN THANKSGIVING to all...and to all a good day.

Storytelling

My dad was a man who use to tell stories.  Stories oozed from his lips like smoke from a cigarette.  Long drawn out stories from days gone past, my dad taught me about life through his elaborate tales.

I learned how to drink by listening to my dad recall his days of old.  My favorite? The time he says him and  two friends "accidentally" drank his grandpas potato moonshine.  From the "old country" my dad's grandpa liked to brew his own drink. To great-granddad beer was always room temperature and alcohol always homemade.  My dad was a skinny red head who didn't realize the difference between moonshine and regular vodka.  The only thing he remembered was drinking in the basement of his grandpas house and then waking up in his room in a rocking chair naked.  His car was on the front lawn and the front door wide opened.  His dad asked him what the hell happened and my dad replied "Well I was drinking grandpas vodka.."  His dad cut off by saying "that shit is pure moonshine.  Surprised your not dead."  The hangover lasted 3 days.  Lesson: Don't drink shit you don't know.  Easy enough.

My dad also taught me the fine art of enjoying my liquor.  To him a good woman should know how to drink whiskey straight and play blackjacks.  When I was 10 he sat me down with his good Jack Daniels cards (ones we were NEVER allowed to touch without him being present) and instructed me on the fine art of blackjack.  He showed me when to hit and when to call, and tried to guide me in the practice of bluffing (or what it also know as bullshitting).  These transferable skills of bullshitting are ones  I call upon often in academic writing.  I use my understandings of whiskey on the weekends to recover from the bullshitting performed during the week.

I also learned to appreciate the musical artform known as country.  A hard core country (and Elvis) listener, my dad always had 99.5 US 99 blasting from the radio on all car trips.  Brooks and Dunn, Garth Brooks, Wynona Judd, Reba MacEntire, and Trais Tritt were all some of my favorite singers in the 80s and 90s.  As the years went on I leaned away from my country roots, letting the opinions of others influence my music preference.  But then I moved to the South and my relationship with country was mended.  One of my dad's proudest moments was when I called him to tell him I bought my first real pair of cowboy boots at a cowboy store in Baton Rouge.  He told me "good job" and then proceded into another story about his first part of cowboy boots.  Apparently they were a bitch to break in and the first few times he put them on he looked like he was crapping his pants cause he was walking so bad.  So his advice was to start off small and break them in.

Being a know-it-all I didn't really listen to the story and its lesson until it was to late.   I was on the streets of New Orleans during Halloween in so much pain all the whiskey in the world wouldn't cure.  I still have the scares of the multiple blisters that appeared on my feet that night.  But I broke them damn boots and have been stompin in them every since.

I loved my dad's stories as they took me to other places and times.  When I was kid all I could every dream about was getting out of the Southside of Chicago and into the world.  Books, school and my dad's stories let me escape.  When he died I decided I needed to stop living in book and through his stories and make some stories of my own.  So I took a little backpacking trip to Guatemala 6 months after the funeral and it was there, in the back of a chicken bus on a old mountain road that I realized something that I have kept special in my heart to this very day.

I realized that I am my father's daughter...and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Running Barefoot

I went for a run yesterday.  My first in almost 3 weeks.  I had to...my body was aching for it and my mind could not focus without it.  In my last post I talked about being more gentle with my body so I was suppose to lay off the roads and trails for a while and hit the yoga mat with some new found enthusiasm.  Needless to say that lasted a whole...week.  Something was missing from my life but I didn't really realize it was running per se until I picked up a book.

That book was Born to Run and my love of, and desire for, running came back in full force.  You know what had me?  The second chapter when Christopher Mc Dougall went in search of the answer to the question "Why does my foot hurt?"  I have been asking that same damn question over and over again for months (along with why does my hip, lower back, knee hurt as well).  I almost bought into the idea I have been told over and over again by doctors, friends, and trainers since I was 22 that my body just isn't built for running.  Almost that is until I opened up this book and soaked up the story that Chris (yea we are on a first name basis now) unfolds in Born to Run.

Chris and I have a few things in common - we are both 6'3" and weigh around the same (240lbs - yea I said it).  While Chris is a middle-aged white male who writes for various men's magazines and sports journals and I am a late-20s mixed race female who is writing a dissertation, I felt a bond with Chris while reading his story.  We are connected by our body type: our height and weight somehow makes our bodies "wrong" to other people, in various ways, when it comes to running.  Like Chris I was also recommended to take up swimming or biking (both sports that I only recently learned how to do and do not do very well).  Years of playing high school and college volleyball left me sick to death of team sports and a herniated disc made me have an aversion to any kind of jumping.  All that aside I just like the feeling of throwing on some shoes, getting outside and having my body move at a faster than walking pace for a long duration of time.  My first half marathon in Prague this year left me not only sore but happy - a genuine happiness that didn't fade, even when my hip flared up at mile 10.   I was just happy to be there and be able to move with other people around me.  In my training I found myself a little giddy after an hour of running as my body was just moving in this fluid (well maybe not fluid but let's just go with that) motion for long periods of time (or what seems like a long time for me).

So long story short the book got me thinking about the benefits of barefoot running.  If Chris could go from being a tall big guy with a bad case of planter fasciities to running a gruelling 50 mile race with some of the best ultramarathon runners in the US and Mexico's Tarahumara people, and finish that race in one piece, by learning barefoot running then why not try it (or give a go as the Brits say).

Give it a go I did - kind of on accident.  Yesterday I went to the gym and took off for an outdoor run to the nearby open grasslands.  I started off in shoes cause I was still a little skeptical (plus the concrete and broken glass didn't leave me to thrilled about starting in bare feet).  But after only 5 minutes of running in those neutral cushioned shoes my right Achilles felt like it was going to tear and my right hip was getting that first tingling of discomfort.  So I broke into a walk for 4 minutes and started again with a light run.  This time the pain was instant and I was pissed.  I stepped off the walking path onto the grass, took off my shoes and socks,  placed a shoe in each hand and...took off.  I just ran.  Slow at first but as the minutes passed my confidence grew until I was running at a pace I hadn't run at in 4 years.  And you know what, it felt good.  I scared myself at one point cause it felt so good and I was going so fast that I just stopped and looked around. I was't out of breathe and my legs didn't feel like cinder blocks.   Damn - it actually worked.  It worked so well that I didn't realized I ran in the wrong direction and had to stop to figure out where the hell I was.

I put my shoes back on so I could take the marked gravel road and trotted on back the gym parking lot and arrived just as Mike was leaving.  I gave him a huge smile and said "I just went barefoot running!"  He said "Oh, how did it go?"  My reply "Amazing!" I felt like a kid again and for the first time in months I actually ENJOYED going out for a run.  But with the cold months coming I am looking into a more minimal shoe or the five finger shoes.

What I do know is it looks like I just brought my running, and sexy, back.

Gentle

While I was in yoga class today attempting to "relax" into a side bending, squatting, stretching pose (don't ask me the name cause I don't have a clue) I had a revelation.  I don't think it was the big  "Enlightenment" but rather a small "enlightenment" that made me realize I need to be much gentler with myself.   Let me explain.


Over the years I have engaged in numerous sporting events.  Basketball and softball throughout high school and volleyball all through college.  I attempted rugby at one point and considered playing football (American) during these times as well.  The list of injuries I accumulated is a never-ending one: concussion (I mean who slides into a brick wall instead of home plate?), sprained ankles, dislocated fingers, busted nose, strained shoulder, and one broke back and dead leg.  But I always thought, well I seem to heal fast so what the hell - just keep going.


Then somewhere in the back of my mind I realized that maybe team sports were not the way to go.  College volleyball wore me out, mentally and physically, and the thought of having to be on one more team with one more bitchy coach left a bad taste in my mouth. So I turned to running.


Running.  A sport of individuality that can be done in a group but you compete on your own. No fancy equipment really needed, just some decent shoes and breathable clothes, open space and on you go. But, that back injury and dead leg thing from my college days stayed with me throughout my running.  Once that was somewhat under control I then developed...fuckin sciatica!  So now I can put that to the list of injuries along with a tight IT band on my left side and a pinch nerve in my right shoulder (who in the hell pinches a shoulder nerve in running?  I do) and tense neck muscles.  Essentially I am verging (or am I already there) on being a HOT...ASS...MESS.


Today in yoga as my body protested with every upward dog, downward dog, side bend, back bend, kneeing and sitting posture it hit me that I need to be more gentle with myself.   Gentle is a word I don't use when describing my relationship with myself.  I go hard or go home - not use to any other way of understanding how to do things.  I powered through my education, never stopping on the quest to a PhD and I am making my deadline of finishing before 30.  I powered through grief of loosing my dad and of trying to loose all the weight it took me years to put on.  Now I am fully aware that my body just can't power through another damn run or gym session when it is obviously telling me to slow (or sit) the fuck down and chill out.  I think it is time to listen this time around.


So I am re-evaluating my physical activity goals and giving myself a bit more flexibility in my time frame for all those competitions I want to do.  I am keeping up this yoga thing cause "everyone" tells me it is good for my body and mind.  Even though I wanted to throw up and sit down at the same time while in class today I have to agree.  Come on, where else would I learn that I not only have tight hamstrings, tight hips, tight groin muscles but ALSO tight ankles (to the degree where me and child's pose are not even associates yet) and then LEARN how to "breathe" into the tightness to loosen it up?  


I could easily say F it and go back to what I know - pounding the roads and hitting the weights hard but...I really don't want to.  And that is a good thing I think.  Self-realization is a bitch, but when you actually start listening to your body the things it tells you are amazing.  So simple, yet so true.  That simplicity is what I forget sometimes.  Of course it makes more sense for me to take a few months and focus on my flexibility and hit the pool and bike to take the stress off my joints and nerves.  Of course it makes more sense for me NOT to train for my first marathon and run it while I am are also writing and scheduled to defend my dissertation so I can graduate after 12 years of higher education.  Of course it makes sense to practice activities that calm my mind so I can handle the current and impending stress.  But as my dad use to say...not all sense is common and not all people have sense. 

Work Plan

The hardest thing about writing a dissertation is trying to do to much.  I had a rough last week with overwhelming stress from writing and feelings of neglecting work and running.  This weekend I spent mostly in my house on my couch physically and mentally exhausted.  Downloading songs to run to from the 90s and early 2000s made me think back to times when I was less in my head and more in the moment.  It's amazing how powerful music is on the psyche and after an intensive downloading session Sunday afternoon I began to understand that I need to re-evaluate my work plan

So what is this work plan you ask?  Well, basically I don't need to do so much.  Period.  It really is simple in theory but harder in execution.  I am not writing a masterpiece and I don't want to. I actually can't stand the damn dissertation and once I am done want to go in a different research trajectory anyway.  This is not unusual  - after you spend anywhere from 5-10 years on a research project it essentially gets old and you move onto other interests.  I prefer to look more at economic inequality and the effects government policies have on disadvantaged communities if I were to take a research focused job.  I also prefer to write books - still figuring out what kind but I have an idea and a basic outline on paper for when I am finished with the dissertation.  Hell I wouldn't even mind writing speeches of press releases as long as I was able to use my brain and writing skills for some type of betterment of society.

But in the meantime I have to get my work plan in order.  Once running started to feel like another thing I needed to do I knew I had taken this school thing a bit to far.  Let's be real  - I am technically still a student and so I am technically still learning how to be a PhD.  The last step is learning how to write up a research project in a longer format than is really necessary.  Nothing more.  

But reality is setting in and once Mike has a job I will able to stop my current one and focus solely on finishing this degree.  Until that happens I know I need to calm my body and mind so I am starting yoga once again.  And I am practising on my breathing.  It's funny how the most basic thing a human needs to survive is one of the hardest things to learn how to do effectively.  

I can be dramatic, but last week was more than me being a dramatic Leo. It was a wake up call.  To slip in and out of depressive states at such an intensive rate is giving into the meanings other attach to life and not my own.  Lets be real - I don't want to do that.  When it comes down to it I want to listen to music, run in the woods, write in comfort and live a life that I can enjoy.  So I hope you all can enjoy a little bit of the music that reminded me of the joy of life this weekend.  

Suffocating

You ever get that feeling of suffocating?  You know when you throat starts to slowly close and your breathe becomes short.  When you can't seem to focus and all you want is one full gasp of air.  I sometimes feel like I am suffocating.  Like I can't just get a full intake of air.  My body is constantly tense, my neck a tight mess.  The feeling of being trapped takes over and I just want to scream and run out...run out, but I don't know where.

I don't write here alot anymore because my days are filled with endless writing for school and work.  By the time I am done I am so mentally and physically tired my body reacts with feelings of nausea and fatigue.  With headaches and body pain.  I finally saw a specialist for my pain.  I hoped it would just be a muscular imbalance, but he gently explained it was actually a mental and emotional one.  By body is reaching out to me and telling me to stop. The constant ache does not go away, but rather is there day after day...after day, reminding me that I need to stop and try to play.  But I am forgetting how - and I don't know when I will be able to really just sit, relax, and allow my body and mind the rest it needs.

I don't want to call it a depression...I guess I am in a recession.  That downward spike that will naturally occurs in any economy when there has been too many years of excess.  I don't know when that excess occurred but it must have -  I think.  If not then maybe I am preparing myself for a new horizon..a new game...a new something.  But for now I try and keep me head up high enough so that I can gasp the air I need now and then.

 I go back and forth with the idea of yoga - can I really fit in something else?  Can I try and learn something new?  Will this be the answer to my pains?  Will this allow me to become enlightened?  To find my direction?  No...I am already seeing my running as another chore, another thing I must "do".  Most of the time I just want to Fuck It and start anew.  Start anew.  Start anew.  I think I just want someone to talk to...

Birthday

I turn 29 Saturday.  Twenty flippin nine...and I'm still in school.  I've been in school since the age of 3 so my mother tells me.  Non-stop I have had a book in my face and a pencil/pen/keyboard in my hands.  As I near the end of this long (and I do mean long) relationship with education I find myself a bit confused and whole lot of tired.

Writing, that is all I do.  I wake up, get a cup of herbal tea, open my laptop, check the email/Facebook/newspapers for an hour and then start writing.  Sometimes I don't know what the hell I am writing, but I do know just seeing the page numbers increase makes me feel like I am doing something.  I treat it as another job - do something for at least 6-7 hours in the day, preferably between the hours of 9 and 5 and then stop.  Problem is I am also working in a "real" job that to requires me three days a week to do something in front of the computer, preferably between the hours of 9 and 5.  Balancing the work with school dissertation writing is already proving to be a bit to much, but what can you do when both need to get done and without one the other is just not as meaningful.

But this post is about my birthday.  I'm turning 29 in case you forgot - don't worry I do as well sometimes.  And...I'm still in school.  I don't know why but this is bothering me a bit more than usual.  I will graduate next May come hell or high water.  I can't stomach the thought of going into my 30s still in school, not taking a break since the age of 3.  It's like a bad haircut that you thought was the shit but over time realize that its a pain in the ass to up keep, expensive to boot, and the appeal start to slowly wear off making you just want to shave your head and start again.

I don't know what I want to do with my life if I am being honest.  I saw an education as way out.  A way out of the Southside, out of the State, out of my life.  I saw education as the ticket to a better life where I would be able to understand what was going on around me and contribute in a fruitful way rather than turn up another statistic.  Hell, so far education has lived up those expectations - I did get out and in the process traveld to places I would never had imagined, took up sports I deemed to be for other people not like me, met a man I would have never come across and moved to another country where I do have a part time job that has me knee-deep in politics, race equality and community activism.  Shit...I really couldn't have asked for much more.

But I am tired and it is wearing on me mentally and physically.  Education got me to where I am now, but I don't know if education will be able to get me to where I want to be.  That may sound weird cause really having the education is opening up my eyes to all the possibilities in front of me so I guess it will always get me to where I want to be, but I am not sure if that will leave me into the academy after I graduate next May.  The dream of being a professor is not there anymore and as I approach 30 the feeling gets stronger and stronger that the dreams of my 20s are quickly changing and morphing into new dreams for my 30s,  That is a little scary, but overall exciting as who in the hell know what will happen.

I feel as if I am saying the same thing over and over, but it is like I have to in order to get it into my head that it's ok to change - physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.  I am still trying to come to terms with my physical changes and have just now realised I was self sabotaging myself every time I was getting closer to my "dream" goal size/ability.  I don't want to do the same with my career goals - I spent to damn long in school and racked up to much debt to allow that to happen. (Again Sam if you can help me with the to, too situation I would be very appreciative)

 So...I turn 29 on Saturday and all I want are good vibes and good times.  I want to reassure myself that I can finish this dissertation and that I can start a new career path, whatever that may be.  I can "not be in school" and I look forward to that day.  I don't expect some rosy life is easy picture to magically emerge once I leave school and enter into a job, but I do expect something different that still challenges me mentally.  As I leave my 20s I want to leave behind a lot of the insecurities and self doubt that plagued me and welcome my thirties with an open mind and heart.

Lost

I have to pull out of the Bristol half marathon.  My right hip can't handle the mileage or the pain at this point.  I realized this Sunday after running only 2 miles.  I stopped, looked at Mike and started to cry.  My frustrations crept up as I could feel my pace getting better and my stride becoming stronger, but my hip just gave up.  I stretched and started again, this time only lasting another 10 minutes before my run turned into a jog and then a pathetic limp.

It was then it hit me in the face that I have 5 weeks left and have only completed a 4 miler for a long run - that just won't cut it for the 13 mile event.  So I have to drop out and start again.

I'm waiting for the referral to a physio by the doctor I saw and need to go in and get x-rays done tomorrow of my right hip and lower back.  But I've been down this route before and know what I really need is another MRI, a full back X-ray and someone to readjust my hips and rehab my back.  That takes money I don't have and time I am loosing so I'll just have to make due and use my remedy of cutting the fat off my body, strengthening my core and stretching like crazy.  However I do need some professional help so I need this damn referral to get here sooner rather than later.

Honestly, it hurts a bit.  I had it in my mind to run this race and now that it is gone I am a little depressed.  I still plan to run Rome marathon next March and will start a 6 month progression program for that in September.  I am hoping by then to be in a rehab program that will work well with the training and have my shoulder in good enough shape to begin yoga once again (seems as if I tore something there but the doctor ignored it so I need to go back and have them look at that again - don't ask me how I did it cause I really don't know but it hurts like a bitch to raise my arm and I can't put weight on the damn thing).

Overall I am a little lost.  The writing is overwhelming - trying to balance it and working is hard at best. The running gave me some balance but now I need to cut down the mileage so I am turning to spinning as an alternative and hitting the trails when I can to keep the pressure of the road off my hip.  But it really doesn't feel the same as a long run on a Saturday morning...

I miss having close friends around and sometimes I go through periods of feeling utterly alone and hopeless.  I want my mom which is strange since I have been on my own for over 10 years, but I guess every girl wants their mom at some point in their life no matter how fucked up or strange that relationshop.  I try and go out but I get annoyed as I'm not drinking and I'm tired of people trying to push a drink down my throat or asking me the same boring ass questions week after week-  "Where are you from?  How long have you been here?  Do you like it here?  What do you study?"  I've learned to never ask those questions to others as just trying to spit out those words makes my skin crawl.

Ok, so I am in an annoyed mood that may pass - don't know when but it will pass...

Dissertation Writing

I began to outline my dissertation today. I opened up my little folder entitled "dissertation information", clicked on the sub-folder that holds the Graduate School's detailed formatting instructions for the dissertation, and began to make files for the title page, table of contents, acknowledgements, and abstract.  Now I am outlining chapter 1 and will begin to work on chapter 2 - due August 28th in the inbox of my advisor in preparation for our phone meeting August 31st. I will repeat this process for each chapter until the end of January.  By February 7, 2011 I will have a completed first draft of the entire dissertation ready to submit to the full committee for their review.

As I began to type up the title page a warm feeling of satisfaction and disbelief permeated throughout my body.  It's almost surreal...in less than a year I will done.  I'm finishing the 12 year run I started since I left high school and the Southside of Chicago in 1999.  Although this blog is about the new adventures I am taking I can't help but add this into the new journeys I am embarking on.  I don't know if I every really imagined being done and now that I can see and taste the end all I want to do is fast forward to next May, walk across that stage, get my diploma, and start a new chapter in my life.

But we all know life doesn't operate in that fashion and I have to go through the ups and downs inherent within the writing and developing process of dissertation writing and job applying.  I've already been turned down for one lecturer positon in the UK - but that was ok, I at least applied.  The next application will be off to Oxford University for a 5 year post-doc position that would help me jump start my career.  That also is a long shot but if I don't go for it then I will never know.

So now I get back to more writing before a training session latter on today.

6 weeks

I have 6 weeks left of training before my half marathon September 5th in Bristol.  The problem is I haven't  gone longer than a 5 miler due to the hip and foot problems I've been having lately.  My first appointment with a GP (or doctor) is this Friday and hopefully the lady will refer me to a specialist in lower back/hip pain or to a sport doctor who has dealt with these issues in runners. 

There is no option to quit or just not do the race.  It's in my mind and once there it's hard to erase.  So, in the meantime I have decided to up the cross training big time.  Spinning three times a week on top of 2 lifting sessions and if i am luck 2-3 runs with one long run on Sunday's is the plan of action.  As long as I can hit a 10 miler before the half and keep my endurance up I know mentally I can do because the first half of the race is run on pure adrenaline and the second half of wanting to finish and have a beer (or at least this is how I run these things).

Anyone who has run a half or full marathon or done any other distance racing will tell you the worst part is the training.  Period. I mean who wants to go to bed at a decent time on the weekends just so you can get up on a Saturday or Sunday morning to go for a "quick 10-12 miler" before starting your day?  Drinking is curb dramatically as running hungover is not a pleasant experience.   Once I get into the marathon training, which happens right after I finish my half, I will be working up to 10 milers during the week with 18-20 mile long runs on the weekend. That shit doesn't sound like fun to me.  But the rewards outweigh the pain and to get my body into a shape that I can complete the training makes the actual race day a hell of a lot easier on my mind and body.  

But first things first - I'll see what this NHS business is all about and try and get my hip sorted.  I need rehab - I know that much but I don't want to keep guessing what kind and paying for things I just don't really like (pilates) or going to people who say I just shouldn't run (like the osteopath) or to plain dumbasses (like the physio).   Yoga would be good but I can't put pressure on my right shoulder anymore (pain in the ass really).  So, off to the doctor I go... I'll let you know what happens next.  

Frustration

Yesterday I made my way after work to one of the local running stores I frequent for running gear in order to see one of their physiotherapist that comes in twice a week.  I thought since the physio was affiliated with a well know and reputable running store that it would be a good idea to go and get my hips and ankles checked out.

 I am now 8 weeks from the Bristol half marathon and have only managed to get in a 4miler as my long run due to intense pain in my right hip, knee, and ankle.  Sleeping is becoming a bigger problem as lying on my back is a no-go due to my back injury.  After 15 seconds on my back my right leg begins to tingle and by 1 minute it's on fire.  This forces me to sleep on my side but sciatica makes sleeping on either hip for more than 30 minutes uncomfortable.  Now my left hip begins to scream in pain the longer I sleep on it making me toss and turn all night.  Last night I had to literally sit up in bed at 4 am and wait till the pain subsided before I did the toss dance once more until 8am.  So needless to say I am tired of being in pain and just plan old tired from not getting a full night sleep.  Topped with a job that is a little demanding and writing a dissertation I am one transcript away from bashing my own face into the floor, or at least from booking another short vacation where I can maybe take a breath before plunging back into the hell they call PhD writing.

Trying to think logically I decided on this physio. Now normally I am anal retentive and check out the history and performance of the people I am paying to see about my back/hips/knees.  I have been in pain since 2002 and so far I have seen a number of general doctors, sport doctors, osteopaths, neurologists, physiotherapists, osteopaths, yoga instructors, personal trainers and one pilates instructor.  For the most part I might feel less pain for a little but then over time another area gets infected and the pain comes back double time.  I refuse to have surgery as the idea of fusing my back is a little to extreme.  All I want is a program or routine that I can do to calm down the pain and allow me to sit, run, and sleep in minimum discomfort.  So the idea of a physio who treats runners sounds great to me.  I didn't do any other checks on this guy, I just signed up online for a 45 minute initial consultation and took my happy ass down to the store.

First, the physio was 50 minutes last in seeing me because he had another client.  Far enough - I can wait as I imagined some lean running physio who knows what they are talking about and can relate to someone who loves and needs to run.  When he finally came upstairs he was short, balding and had a belly.  Ok, ok - my imagination was shattered but I still had faith.  That was until we finally got down into the physio room and for 1 hour - that's 60 minutes - he  like talked at me and was more concerned about seeing me sit in front of a computer screen then looking at my stance or getting a full history.  I sat there and tried to recite to him my full medical history from the time of my back break to  the present.  I've only done this shit over 40 times in the past few years so know how to get the information out in a concise manner so that we can get down to treatment.  BUT NO...he kept talking about himself and how running 9 minutes was a big deal for him and about me getting a better desk and computer and how he was hoping to get me running again.

That was when I had enough and said - NO, I am ALEADY running and TRAINING for my SECOND HALF MARATHON and came here to see if you can HELP ME be in LESS PAIN while I train.  Then I explained I did a previous half last March in Prague and plan to do the Rome Marathon March 20 of next year.  I gave him my time for Prague and he had the cheek to comment on how slow that was!  THEN he proceded to make the comment that with the injuries and pain I have he was surprised that 1) I was still in a PhD program (don't ask cause I am still confused by this) and 2) that I was rather ambitious and very focus to be trying for these events.

Oh...but it doesn't stop there.  Then he kept asking me how I was funded as someone studying for this high of a degree from the States must be either 1) very bright or 2) well funded.  Which was I?  I looked at him and said "Well both."  By this time I want to gouge his eyes out.  But I didn't. I just waited until he was done.  Pissed that I had to pay him £45 for this shit he called a session he then said he would be with me all the way and that for the first few weeks we need to see each other twice a week for 45 minutes if not an hour depending on my finances. I looked at him and said I don't know, let me think about it and then walked outside into the fresh sunshine.

Pissed I found Mike up the street, ordered myself a Chai Latte (I wanted a damn shot but I am not drinking for a while - I'll write on that later), got into the car, had a nice rant, and then went home.

What now? I don't have a fuckin clue. All I can do is keep up with my workouts and incorporate more of a run/walk technique so that I finish a little faster but in less pain.  Some may ask - why run if it hurts?  I say it hurts more not to run.  It hurts more not to be in shape and not to the weight less.  It hurts more physically, mentally, and emotionally when I see my body loose its shape and hardness and turn into a pudgy hot mess.  I run to keep my fitness but also my sanity as I once again take on to many things.  I have to finish this PhD by next May and I want to. I want to being my 30s out of school  - it's like a fresh start for me really.  So I keep running and I'll keep searching for the doctor/osteo/physio that will work for me.  Until then I'll just be a slightly cranky bitch...

Vacation

 I am on vacation (or holiday) for 2 weeks in the States.  After a few "issues" with my own family in Chicago before I left the UK, Mike and I decided that we would spend the whole 2 weeks in Michigan with his family.  I was apprehensive at first - last time we stayed with his parents was exactly one year ago when we were preparing for our big overseas adventure.  At that time things were stressful, Mike had a drunken accident, and we were all about to kill each other.

This time things are quite chill.  Mike has been gone for a year and so his family is just happy to have him home.  For the past week we have done nothing more than run, cook, read, and watch as much Bravo tv as we can (you know you LOVE the Real Housewives Franchise just as much as I do).  For the first time in a long time I am actually learning to relax...to a point.

It's funny - the more relaxed I get the more I feel like I should be doing work.  I check my email expecting something from work to pop up or anticipating reading a new article or policy that is related to my research.  I told my boss that for the 2 weeks I was off I would be OFF - no emails, no texting, no asking me to do something as I wanted to have a real holiday.  Now that I have it I am finding it a little hard to actually fully enjoy the time off - it's sick!  I meet with my adviser on Friday to go over my dissertation and so although I did all of my prep for that meeting before I left Bristol and sent it to her I still feel like I should be reading/writing.

But, I am not and am trying to teach myself the art of time off.  I bitch about wanting a break but when I get them I don't know what to do with myself.  I ran a 5K race two days after arriving in the US and have been running consistently since then which is a good thing, been trying to see a few friends, and trying to catch up on some fun reading.  I guess that is what relaxing is?  Who knows.  But for now I know that I needed the time off to calm my mind and my body before the the next 10 months of writing, working and running commence.  Now the World Cup..USA, USA, USA...

Graduation

May 6, 2011.  This is the date that I will be graduating with my Ph.D in Anthropology (specialising in socio-cultural aspects of race, racism, identity, citizenship, and nation) from Michigan State University.  About 2 weeks ago I had a skype meeting with my adviser and we both agreed that I can push hard these next few months and get it done.  After 6 years at MSU and 12 (DAMN) years in total since I graduated high school I will finally end my love-hate relationship with studenthood.

Am I ready?  Simply put...HELL YEA.  My entire 20s have been spent within the academy.  I'v raked up student loans in excess of $70,000 WITH fellowships in ever year but this last one (not even sure of this figure but that is the bare minimum I know I will be paying back). have moved states and now countries, loss my dad, found my soul mate, loss some weight, gained some of it back, and now am loosing it again, and in general have grown a hell of a lot.  And, I'm tired of being a student.  Tired of being broke, relying on fellowships and loans to get by on.  I'm tired of being underpaid based on the fact that I am a student (cause come on those TAships are a joke with all the work you do).  But I have learned something valuable in all the jobs I have taken- unless you realize your own value no one else will - Period.

So this next 10-11 months will entail me writing my ass off.  I signed up for the Bristol half marathon and will do the Rome marathon March 20, 2011 as a way to have something else to also aim/train for alongside the writing and working.  Balance is key and Lord knows I have forgotten that far to often when deadlines start to approach and stress levels create blinders that allow me to forget that I have a life outside of work/school.  This summer challenge with the following one in winter helps me remember to keep eating healthy food and work out.   Running saved my life so I make that  a priority and not just an extra thing I do if I THINK I have the time because really one can make time for anything they actually prioritize.

But you may be asking - will I really finish?  Again...HELL YEA.  Why?  Because it is not in my reality no to (Sam is this the right form of "to"?).  I can actually picture myself giving the defence, passing, turning in the dissertation to the grad school, getting my fancy cap and gown, and walking across that stage with a big smile on my face and most likely a little tear in my eye.  Thoughts become things and my thoughts are completely  focused on getting done and getting a job that I enjoy and allows me to pay my bills and live a comfortable life.

When I finish I will be 29 years old, 3 months shy of turing the Dirty 30.  I will close one chapter of my life and begin another.  I wonder what my 30s will bring...

Summer Challenge 2010

I did it again.  I went and signed myself up for another challenge to coincide with my training for the Bristol half marathon in September.  Some of you may recall the winter challenge I did over the holiday season at the end of last year through the Burn the Fat Inner Circle online community that my favorite health guru Tom Venuto is in charge of (see picture on right).  It's simple really - I had to get my weight and body fat, calculate my lean body mass and my fat, do my body measurements, state my long and short term goals, and then take pictures of myself in my underwear from the front, side and back (lovely).  I posted this all to a thread with my name and after 98 days I do this all again and see how much my body has transformed over that time.

The last challenge was a success and helped me to kickstart my body transformation - it will take me a year to reach my goals so I am a 1/3 of the way there.  the past 3 months have seen me at a plateau - not really losing but not gaining so it's time for another kick start.

Now I have 14 weeks (98 days) to reach my short terms goals.  That involves shedding 14-28lbs (1-2 lbs a week), 6-7% body fat (.5% per week), and finishing this challenge with my second half marathon (where I plan to run the whole thing, no walking).  It's nice to have this to help me along the summer.  Usually people lose weight over the summer cause its hot and you are outside more.  The past few summers I have actually gained due to drinking in excess which leads to eating in excess. Plus I was in Michigan working on my dissertation and teaching, so being outside was not something I actually wanted to do.  My trip to SE Asia last summer left me even more depressed because I saw how much I had let myself go, making traveling more uncomfortable than enjoyable.

I learned alot from that trip and so am glad it happened the way it did - I can't allow a place to dictate my happiness and lease on life.  I was miserable in Michigan and blamed it on being in Michigan.  That was only part of it as I had said the same thing about Louisiana, Chicago, D.C. and Wisconsin - it was always the location I was in that was making my unhappy.  The real problem was that I hadn't made peace with myself - made peace with the fact that I was once very large, made peace with the fact that my dad had passed, made peace with the fact that I didn't "need" friends to rely on me for support, made peace with the fact that I am sensitive (cause I am you know).  I mean I had to make peace with myself and not take the easy way out and think once I moved/traveled I would all of a sudden be happy and lean.  Traveling through SE Asia I saw that I was miserable and my misery was of my own doing - I was hot, overweight, out of shape, hair a mess, and had pink eye (that actually really did suck).  When I arrived in Bristol none of that magically changed for the better.  I was living in a living room with Mike on a blow up air mattress with another couple who had 2 pain in the ass cats with no job prospects for Mike and no idea how to start "doing" fieldwork.  Again, my problems didn't just go away once I hit the shores of the British Isles.  After 2 weeks of feeling sorry for myself I got going with Mike - hunted down apartments, set up utilities, looked for work and got myself a gym membership.   Once I started to take care of my body again  - working it to its max and fuelling it with whole foods - other parts of my life started to fall in place.  The depression began to lift and I started to see more opportunities appear.  Thought do become things so for me working on my body connected to me working on my mind, allowing various positive things to manifest before me.

So back to this challenge - I am doing it to keep my mind and body inline with one another.  Especially now that I am starting to write up my dissertation.  Gradation is May 6, 2011 and I will be walking across that stage with diploma in hand.  The next 11 months are going to be a roller-coaster ride of writing, working, running, lifting, and traveling.  I use this challenge as one way of outlining the first 3 months of this longer 11 month journey to ending my student career.  Now, first things first - a trail run on this Bank Holiday (aka Memorial Day in the US) and then working on a grant for work.  Work it out!

Half Marathon Number 2

This week marks the start of my 4 month training program for my second half marathon.  I'll run the Bristol half September 5, 2010.  A flat course around the city I will try to beat my time of 2:52 which shouldn't be that hard to do!


I'm using a different training program and adding on 4 more weeks of formal training to get myself 1) in better shape and 2) a faster time.  The last race in Prague was great but my injuries flared up bad at mile 10 causing me to walk the last 2 of the 3 miles.  Mental strength was what got me through as my right side was dead on arrival once I crossed the finish line.

Now, I train!  Can't lie, my body is hurtin already so going slowly into my mileage is the plan for now.  My hips ache at night and my right arch is usually on fire and tight but my pace has picked up quite nicely and I am learning how to stretch and strengthen my weak areas.  My visa has tied up a bit of my money so extras like pilates and sport massage have to be put on hold until the middle of the summer once the visa is secured.  So until then all I can do is remember what I learned in those sessions and do them on my own.  But, it's not so bad to be honest.  Running on a schedule gives me structure and helps me balance work, school and life.  The fact that I can even still run with the injuries I have sustained makes me amazed at what the human body can heal and endure.  So I will start to update my progress once again - the ups and downs, the body fat reduction and the pint consumption (cause really you have to balance the two) until I cross that line once again in the city where I live.

Ok, maybe the rhyming was a bit much but you see what I mean.