Pushing Through

Or, How I dealt with the adversity of being alone on Superbowl Sunday

What else can you do? You just keep walking through the fire, no matter which direction it comes from. One foot in front of the other. Knowing you’ll get through this and come out the other side. Stronger.

That’s also how I approach my workouts with my trainer. One lift at a time. I think it’s the weights that kill me the most. And sometimes he takes pity on me and helps. Or lets me off the hook just a little. He’ll skip a couple counts or something. He is a sweet guy, even though he pretends to be a big tough wrestler-type. And how can you not love a guy who has a big tattoo that says “Mom” entwined with the Sacred Heart. Gotta love those Italian sons of Italian mothers.

But the truth is, I don’t -- and never have -- push myself very hard. I’m way too easy on myself. I always let myself off the hook.

Take Tuesday, for instance. After working with him for an hour and then another hour of cardio, I was wiped out. I went home and took a shower and then laid down for a few minutes because it just didn’t feel like I had enough energy to continue standing and walking. My brother called to see if we could get together -- he likes spending time with Charlie on his days off. But also we’re a pretty good support system for each other, someone to listen to, someone to talk to. I had been thinking about checking out the Rebuilding Center in North Portland, which was very close to where he was having a dental appointment that morning. We decided to meet there. Instead of taking a nap, then, I hopped in the car and -- fighting off fatigue and sleep -- drove up to North Portland, just off I-5 and Alberta if you know Portland. The Center is on Mississippi which is a funky little neighborhood with little shops and restaurants.

Neither of us had been to the Rebuilding Center before. It’s a place where they have all kinds of building materials and fixtures, recycled from deconstruction sites, etc. They had some wonderful old doors with leaded glass, fireplace mantels, light and plumbing fixtures, other really interesting things. But I didn’t need any of those. What I was looking for was material to build some raised beds for this spring. Preferably cedar or redwood, rather than outdoor wood which sometimes contains questionable chemicals.

We found a bunch of cedar six-foot 2x6s, though in many cases one edge or the other was greatly compromised. But for $17 I bought 14 of these boards and some rough-cut 2x2s that should work for posts. This should give me enough to lay out a couple of beds, anyway. Today I’m going to try to take advantage of the continuing beautiful weather and lay out at least one bed.

I bought him lunch at a little Mexican Restaurant -- por que no? -- across the street and we sat outside in the sun to enjoy our chicken tamales and red snapper torta. It was amazing for early February. Blue skies, warm sun. I sat in just my long-sleeved shirt, it was that warm -- probably close to 60. It’s been a very strange winter for Portland, but so far I’ll take the sun and cold over rain.

We drove to my house and unloaded the wood and then I took my nap. Probably a good couple of hours. These workouts really are draining me. When I finally got up Tom was still there so he got a Subway sandwich to split and then we made a fire. I haven’t had a fire since Christmas but it was so lovely. After he left I just kept it going for awhile and sat there sipping some pinot gris and thinking. No television last night. Good start! Television sends you all the wrong messages and keeps you from thinking your own thoughts, coming to your own conclusions about life. Sometimes it can be thought provoking itself, but not that often.


But back to Sunday. I did end up going to the gym. And I did watch a little of the game from the monitor on my treadmill. Then I went home and watched the rest of it until just about the very end. I was pulling for the Cardinals but when it was clear they couldn’t score in less than a minute, I turned it off and went to church again.

I had decided to attend the Contemplative Mass, which I love. The guy who was doing the music that night has a beautiful, prayerful voice and his guitar work is very soothing. So that felt like a good thing to do. When I was walking into the church, I met a very dear friend whom I haven’t seen in awhile and her husband. She invited me to join them in their pew. I sat with them and surrounded by other friends. It was a wonderful, peaceful, beautiful experience and I felt God there, holding me and reminding me that I do have people who love me.

This Sunday’s epistle was from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, 7:32-35. Paul sometimes drives me crazy, and this was one of those times. This is where he seems to encourage people to remain single (and presumably celibate). Unmarried men and women, he says, are anxious about things of the Lord, how they may please the Lord, whereas married people are anxious about things of the world and pleasing their mate. Having been both, I take issue with his assumptions. Married people can, and often do, work together to praise and please the Lord. Whereas, unmarried people can be, and often are, anxious about how to become married, about their loneliness, often wishing things were different. But all my alone time does, truly, give me plenty of time to think, to pray, to talk to and listen for God, whereas if I’m not alone I’m usually talking or listening to the person I’m with. So there is validity to both sides. But I think you can find and praise and serve God no matter what your status, no matter where you find yourself.