It seems only a few days ago when I wrote about the autumnal equinox, but here we are, welcoming a new season. It’s the first day of winter, and it comes to us bringing rainy skies and mild temperatures.
Despite the gray start, I am feeling pretty sunny about things. I have a few projects in the works – some brand new and others that are getting a much-needed refresh.
I’m not waiting until the new year to get started. I am beginning today so things will be well underway as thew new year dawns.
What about you? What plans do you have for winter or the new year?
Freedom fighting, creation and imagination my favorite topics to mull. Last night I was awake past my bedtime, and a trip down the rabbit hole known as the Internet led me to this great find.
It’s a podcast in two main parts. The first features Angela Davis and Grace Lee Boggs speaking at the Empowering Women of Color Conference. The second features an excerpt from Daniel Rasmussen’s book, American Uprising: The Untold Story of America’s Largest Slave Revolt.
The cast is from 2012, but conversations about freedom are always timely.
I wrote a piece for the Body Narratives, a project founded and curated by Hana Riaz. The project creates space for women of color to reclaim and share their experiences. It’s a beautiful platform, and I’m honored to have a piece included in this body of work.
Here’s Hana’s introduction:
Our bodies are often physically and emotionally tied, and yet the disconnect experienced, the gap between the two can often seem overwhelming, painful, difficult. In this moving and deeply honest piece, nicole d. collier talks about living with fibroids and the body as a site of trauma.
I’ve come across a lot of things worth sharing as of late. Long ago I used this space, not only for musing, but also for sharing news articles or other things of interest. Sometimes a video catches my eye. Other times, it could be a picture. Today, it’s a word. Something to ponder:
There is no one lonelier or more unhappy than a person who does not know the pure joy of creating a life for himself or herself. To be human is not merely to stand erect and manifest intelligence or knowledge. To be human in the full sense of the word is to lead a creative life. ~Daisaku Ikeda
This was a milestone week for me in many ways, including the fact I finished two 10Ks! One was in miles and the other was in words.
On Sunday I was feeling, as they say, “froggy.” Out of the blue, I declared to myself that Monday I’d run 6 miles for the first time.
This has been a goal of mine for a long time. I know many people who’ve done it, and my personal long was 5.55 miles, from a year ago. I’ve only run five miles or more a handful of times in life, and the 10K/6.2 mile mark seemed scary, quite honestly.
On my days of high energy, I’d think about tackling it, and it just seemed a touch too far. Rather than drown in a sea of what ifs, I generally stopped thinking about it as soon as I felt the telltale adrenaline. I wasn’t sure why it made me nervous, but it did.
But Sunday, I felt up to the challenge. I wasn’t positive I’d actually go for it my next time out, but I knew it wouldn’t be long now. Blue ran with me Monday morning, and when we got to my usual two-mile turnaround point, we decided to go a little bit farther. Then a little more.
After running 6.2 miles on the Greenway.
“How do you feel about round numbers?” he asked, taking a peek at his Garmin. I knew we were past two, but I couldn’t gauge how far.
“I like round numbers.”
Eventually we were at an even three, which was guaranteed to get me six by the time we arrived back at the start.
As we passed the 5.55 mile mark, I smiled. I was excited to best my personal long and even more excited to know I was going to finally accomplish a long-standing goal. When we got to the start, we doubled-back a tenth or so and came back to finish the .2.
So that was the second 10k.
The first 10k actually happened the day before, on the 10th of November. And now that I think of it, perhaps the earlier achievement inspired the latter. After many false starts and absolutely zero words dedicated to the effort, I started my first novel this month.
Well, my second if you include the one I began in middle school (which my peers said was really good!).
In October, I announced my desire to be a romance novelist (among other things), and November, National Novel Writing Month, seemed like a great time to start. I’ve long been familiar with NaNoWriMo, the project which encourages authors to write a draft of a novel (50,000 words) in 30 days. Now, I don’t believe in gimmicks. And because that seemed irrational and unsustainable, I always rejected the project outright. But this month, on the first day of NaNoWriMo, I decided two things:
If I only participated a few days, I would’ve at least gotten started on my novel. That’s more than I can say for the past several years of thinking about it.
Who cares about that 50k goal? I could set whatever goal I wanted. One thousand words a day seemed doable, and again, if some days I couldn’t hit it, see number 1.
So I started. And on the 10th day I hit my 10,000th word. My first 10k!
In honor of my 10s this week, a word from B Scott:
Author’s note: In 2019, I discovered that B. Scott has deleted this epic video from the internet. If it’s reposted, I will be sure to update this entry.
Today’s run surprised me. It had been over a week since my last 4-mile run. Generally speaking, a couple of rest days are good for me. But too many means I start to lose a level of fitness.
It’s not to say I forewent exercise completely. In addition to rest days, I had a couple of bouts of weather-induced indoor aerobics. I also threw two short runs in the mix. In a hotel and pressed for time two mornings in a row, the treadmill beckoned. I’ve mentioned more than once how much I enjoy outdoor running and dislike treadmills, but there was no safe place to run nearby. It was the ‘mill or nothing.
No Bueno
Let’s get right to it and say both of those runs sucked. I never felt as though I could get a good breathing rhythm. I never locked into an ideal stride. I just wasn’t comfortable. Both days, two miles of running felt like five or six miles worth of work.
The past couple of mornings, I looked forward to getting back outside. Yesterday, was a disappointment. Mild fall temps were on my side, but the pouring rain was not. I decided to get on with the remainder of my day, foregoing exercise altogether.
The Greenway this morning.
Doubting Thomasina
Today, it was cooler than ideal, but clear, and I was determined to go get my miles. But get this: I was worried. Because my recent runs were short and difficult, I wondered if I had what it took to eek out my mileage. Some Saturdays I toy with the idea of a “long run” (five miles or more), but today my standard four felt like a stretch.
I wondered just how long it would take me to finish. How would I feel at the halfway point? Would I have to walk it out for large stretches of the trail? Would I just stop at a mile and turn around? The questions loomed. This level of uncertainty about a run is unusual for me, but there it was. I stalled a bit, and went out anyway.
When I got to the Greenway, I could tell immediately the run was going to go well after all. I easily hit my warm up pace and found a comfortable stride within the first 1/2 mile. It felt nice to open up and push the tempo. Being outdoors again was glorious, despite the cool air. Despite the damp leaves clinging to the trail.
I felt great, like the in shape runner I am.
Getting up to Snuff
I’ve run intervals a few times this year. Before now, I’d never tried them out. It’s true they help with speed, and I’ve come to realize they build my confidence as well. I know I’m reasonably fast for super short distances – I was a sprinter in my day. A few years at 3+ miles per run, I’ve now built some endurance, but often I’m scared to push my pace. I simply don’t want to peter out.
But intervals are designed for you to push, then rest. And really, I’m not racing anyone. I’m building my own fitness. Who cares if I need to rest at various points during my run anyway, intervals or not? And just because I got comfortable holding a steady pace at four miles, didn’t mean I needed to remain comfortable. That can easily lead to stagnation. And to some degree, it had.
Movie Lessons
In recent runs, I’ve found myself thinking about all of this while also mulling a scene from Gattaca (spoiler alert). In it, brothers Anton and Vincent are swimming. Ever since they were children, they tested each other to see who had the endurance to swim the farthest in open waters. Anton always won.
An older wiser Vincent finally stopped living down to everyone else’s expectations, and resolved to give life his all. In a confrontation between the two, they decide to swim one last time. Right when Vincent would’ve cried mercy, he didn’t. This time, Anton was the one who tapped out. He screamed at Vincent demanding to know how he was accomplishing this. How was he pushing beyond well-established boundaries? Said Vincent,
I never saved anything for the swim back.
Vincent gave it his all. He held nothing back. He learned to overcome his limiting beliefs about himself. In the end, he was victorious.
Holding Back
Often, I hold back when running. I get comfortable with a certain pace. Knowing I can push it, but will have to recover later, I don’t take chances. Steady state. But with the introduction of intervals, I saw my fitness increasing, and it became easier for me to see what would happen if I push it. I’d go faster! And yes, I may have to rest a bit, but I’d go faster for longer the next time.
So today, out on the open path, no music, no pressure, just me, I ran. And when it felt good, I ran faster. And when I thought I’d been running a good distance at a good pace, I checked in. Do I really need to rest right now, or am I holding back? And I’d rest or run accordingly.
It was a great run. Much faster than usual the first two miles, and faster in stretches toward the end. I ran my fastest overall pace for this distance.
I surprised myself. I didn’t hold back. The race was only with myself, and I won.
It’s Wednesday and the sun is setting. I’m enduring a rare headache. It has not drowned in water nor drifted away in sleep, despite my best efforts. I guess it’s here to stay a bit. I’m due to stay up this evening and watch American Horror Story. I’m not normally a night owl, but I’m doing it this one time in solidarity with Sojo and Ms. Smart so we can do one of these. Just this one time though…
I’m thinking about compassionate capitalism. I imagine such a thing exists. I want you to imagine it, too. I aim to find it, and write about it, as to expand our understanding about what’s possible in a loving society.
I’m thinking about practitioners of restorative justice, especially those in Georgia or in the south. I want to know more about what they do and what impact it has in their respective communities. I want to interview them and document their stories.
I’m thinking about abolitionists. Those who would abolish the death penalty as well as those who would dismantle the prison-industrial complex. Although some states still murder prisoners, others are slowing and/or stopping the practice. Meanwhile, budget cuts are forcing states to question caging as the default response to nonconforming behavior. In many states it costs more per year than college tuition. With no restoration and no education. Just revenge. I want less revenge. More evolution. More solutions. More healing. More love.
I’m pondering the ways these elements are interwoven. And the fact that any discussion of these ideas must eventually include public schooling… from the zero tolerance policies leading to the school to prison pipeline, to the capitalist ideals underpinning school policy and curriculum.
Things I’m thinking about this Wednesday evening. What’s on your mind?
In Part 1 of this brief series, Marla shared the long road from obscure symptoms, to crisis, hospitalization, and diagnosis. In this installment, she discusses the ways her life has changed as a result and how she is supported on her journey.
Marla at a party in 2010
My life has changed quite a bit. I now take medication every day, which I hate. Some medication I may have to be on for the rest of my life as a maintenance kind of thing. Because lupus has no cure, all you can do is treat it and manage it. Boooo!!!
I was in denial at first about my diagnosis, but not because I couldn’t accept it. Everything I would read would list these typical symptoms that I didn’t have. It wasn’t until November of 2012 that it all became real.
Out of nowhere, these itchy skin rashes popped up all over my legs and arms. I had a constant reminder every day that I had lupus and I still have these rashes. They have left hyperpigmentation that has yet to fade.
I now have a sensitivity to the sun, and this is a common symptom. So, I have to avoid the sun as much as possible. This summer, no shorts for me . I have to wear sunscreen every day (yes, black people need to wear it too). This has been extremely hard to deal with because I love the sun and now I’m afraid of it. So now, in addition to the rheumatologist, I also see a dermatologist. (Really tired of all the “ologists”). I’ve lost a little hair. I am also experiencing more than usual fatigue, which is also a common symptom.
Most recently, and I say this with a whisper, I’ve noticed a significant decrease in my libido. I don’t know why, but I’m thinking it’s a combination of the medication as well as the psychological trauma and stress of this journey. I haven’t spoken with my doctor about this yet, but I plan to. I mean, I’m only 38.
The hardest thing I’ve had to deal with is the not knowing what could happen to my body next. I didn’t know these rashes would appear, they just did. Will I have the joint pain that is characteristic with lupus? As a former professional dancer and I’m being candid here, I think that would devastate me. I know that I would prevail, but that would be really hard.
Marla (who made her own costume) as Puss in Boots in 2011
Family and friends have been amazing. In addition to educating myself, I have had to educate them. They can be of more help if they know some of what is going on. Some of my friends have referred me to friends they know who have lupus. Talking with them has been a tremendous help.
I have felt alone with this disease and still do sometimes. Lupus manifests itself differently in each person. For me, right now, it is affecting my skin. So being able to relate to someone else has been instrumental in the processing of this journey.
Friends and family members have also turned me on to alternative methods of healing. I’ve incorporated acupuncture, adopted a gluten-free diet, and tried to reduce the stress (a major cause of having a flare-up). Therapy – I know that we aren’t supposed to talk about that, but therapy helps. Having someone not emotionally connected to you provides a different type of support. I have also entertained the idea of joining a lupus support group.
What do you want people to know or understand about lupus?
I would like people to know that lupus is a quiet disease, kind of a mystery disease. Most times, no one would know you are living with it. The symptoms aren’t in your face. For me, I can cover my arms and legs, so no one would know I have these rashes. We have all said we are tired, we say it all the time. But for someone with lupus, the fatigue can be extreme. Those who don’t have it or understand it may not take someone saying they are tired as seriously as they should. It’s not laziness, it’s fatigue.
There is a quote by Maya Angelou that I love:
You are not your lupus, and life continues. You just might have to make some adjustments. There are going to be bad times, but also good times. It’s the looking forward to the good times that help you through the bad times.
I have learned a lot about myself during this journey. I learned how strong I am and how far I can be pushed and still succeed. But at the same time, I learned that I didn’t have to be so strong, trying to get through this alone. I learned how to ask for help. And, I learned how to truly love myself.
Late last month, I checked email to find this subject line topping my inbox. I’ve known Marla, a slim, vibrant beauty from Chicago, since college. She’s always been stylish in her size zero clothes, a graceful stride in striking heels or casual kicks. Perhaps it’s the dancer in her, she’s regal, shoulders back, long neck, even when frowning about some injustice. Whether in locks or a full ‘fro, her hairdo compliments her warm countenance.
Marla (left) & me at Dina’s wedding, 2011.
From the mid-90s until two years ago when we saw each other at a soror’s wedding, this was my enduring image of her. In 2011, she hadn’t changed a bit. And even though her life is dramatically different now in 2013, much about her is still the same.
At 38 she is still warm, she is still vibrant, and now she is living with lupus.
Marla agreed to share a bit about her story, as there are still many people who know little to nothing about lupus. Rather than summarize or paraphrase, I’m using Marla’s own words here (quoted and in red). It’s her story, after all. I want her to tell it.
I began by asking her to define lupus:
Our immune system is supposed to create antibodies that protect our bodies from viruses, bacteria, germs, etc. Lupus is an autoimmune disease. This means that my immune system can’t tell the difference between the bad stuff and the good stuff. So it creates antibodies that also attack and destroy healthy tissue. Lupus can affect the skin, joints and damage major organs (kidneys, heart, lungs) by causing inflammation and pain.
It’s somewhat simple to describe what lupus is, but discovering you actually have it is another matter entirely. In 2012, I remembered receiving a text from Tavares, a mutual friend of ours. Marla had been in the hospital for days by then, but no one could say why. I ventured a phone call to see if she was up for a quick hello. Her voice was weak – practically a whisper. It was disconcerting to hear her that way. Ages passed before doctors put the pieces together and made the diagnosis. Marla describes this period as the scariest time of her life:
It was early January 2012, I got sick with what I thought was the stomach flu. I was having really bad stomach pains, fever, fatigue. This lasted for about four days with no reprieve. After the fourth day, I started to have chest pains and difficulty breathing. It was at that time that I decided to go to the ER.
I was seriously dehydrated because I hadn’t eaten anything during those four days. My blood pressure was really low and my heart rate was really high. They ended up giving my about 19 liters of fluid and I gained 20 pounds from that alone. I was first in the ICU (Intensive Care Unit) for about two days. They found out nothing was wrong with my heart, so I was sent to the regular area. Over the next 11 days, I was tested for everything under the sun. I had biopsies on my skin and lymph nodes. I had innumerable CT scans and x-rays. I had a colonoscopy. They could not figure out what was wrong.
Looking back, I can see that things were happening that I didn’t see as symptoms, but just as health issues. I would get my regular physical every year. Maybe starting in mid 2009, my blood test started to show that my white blood cell count was low. After retesting a couple of times and getting the same results, in mid to late 2010, my doctor referred me to a hematologist. More blood tests.
One of the tests is called an ANA test. It isn’t a definitive test for lupus – there isn’t one – but it can show that someone can be predisposed to it. I tested positive. I retested and it came back positive.
At this time, my doctor referred me to see a rheumatologist. Because I wasn’t having any symptoms of lupus, I would see her every 3 months just for testing (throughout 2011). White blood cell count was always low and I would always test positive on the ANA test. They wanted to start me on medication, but I was like, why would I do that, I’m not having any symptoms? Also, in 2010 I started having these pains on both sides of my body right under arms, and after seeing my doctor and not knowing what was going on, she referred me to a pulmonologist (lung doctor).
He thought it could have been caused by leftover scar tissue from pneumonia (hadn’t had it). We did a biopsy on my lung and nothing was conclusive. These pains remained off and on through most of 2011. So, I guess there were signs but I just didn’t know it. While I was in the hospital in 2012, I made all of this aware to my doctors. And after them finding nothing else, my final diagnosis was lupus.
Marla shared more of her story, including how her life has changed since her diagnosis, some of her favorite resources, and encouragement for others living with lupus. Read the second installment here. Marla’s walk is October 19. Please click here to find out more.
Here are the top posts from last month’s 30in30 challenge:
September is my mom’s birth month. She was on my mind, and subsequently, on my blog. Early in the month, I wrote about the Barnes and Noble she never had the chance to enjoy. Later, on her birthday, I shared a co-worker’s wisdom about mothers and grief. In short, losing a mother can leave you broken-hearted, even a decade later.
I talked about vulnerability and learning to be “intentionally transparent” with the one you love. Easy to want, but often hard to do. It boils down to being honest with yourself first. That level of honesty and clarity about myself and my needs is at the root of an emotional wellness strategy I learned in September.
Emotional wellness is important, but wellness extends to many domains. In honor of National Women’s Health & Fitness day, I wrote about prioritzing physical wellness in the face of a busy lifestyle.
Last month, Diana Nyad made history, and she endures as a testament to dreaming big, and never giving up. It is with that spirit that I welcome October. I’m revising and devising my goals and striving forward each day. I wish the same for you.
