Ragged

I'm not in great shape.

And this trail knows it.

Since Stride Inside, a number of factors have come together to beat me down.

First and foremost, Tanker went for surgery on Monday, January 7th. That was stressful for both of us, but was fortunately successful and he's in recovery. Unfortunately, the recovery will be rather long - he's off work for 4 weeks, then will be on light duties at the warehouse for another 4 weeks after that.

He has a long path ahead.

I was able to take the day of the surgery off to take care of him, but had to return to the office the next day - I do payroll for a couple of dozen companies, so this struck at my busiest time of the year as I scramble to complete year-end reconciliations for each company to ensure they will not end up owing anything (on which there would be penalties and interest). Since Tank was essentially bedridden for the first couple of days, this meant I would run up a thermos full of soup, a few bottles of water, and a cooler bag full of ice packs before leaving in the morning to try to tide him over until I could get home again.

He couldn't exactly make it out to a frozen waterfall to ice his swelling.

When I'd get home, on top of making a fresh, healthy dinner for us as always, I'd also have to do all the chores that I'm so grateful he usually takes care of: feeding the cats, washing the dishes (we don't own a dishwasher), cleaning out litter boxes, putting out the garbage and recycling, and all the laundry...and there's a LOT of laundry right now, since the weather has turned cold and I'm running 7-8 times per week in it.

These conditions call for a little more than shorts and a sports bra.

While Tanker has made progress and is literally back on his feet again, he's still barred from lifting anything heavier than a bottle of water - he now feeds our kitties before I get home, but I have to do at least some of the dishes as I cook with heavy cast iron pans, and the garbage, kitty litter and laundry are all tasks that require lifting. Because he hasn't yet been comfortable in the car, or standing or walking for extended periods, I also have to run errands like going to the farmers' market and grocery store by myself. Since he usually comes with me and helps quite a lot - we split up at the grocery store to get what we need more quickly, and he carries the bags at the market while I deal with cash so there isn't quite as much juggling required - it takes a lot more time and effort.

Like fighting my way upriver.

The biggest problem I'm having, though, is the addition of 12+ hours of driving each week, and the associated loss of my naps. Because our workplaces are very close together and our hours are similar, Tank usually does the 80-ish kilometer drive each way from our house to Mississauga and back Monday to Friday. I usually nap on the way in and way home, to supplement the handful of hours of sleep I get during the week. Instead of those naps, I now fight my way through rush hour traffic on the 401, operating on even less sleep (as it takes me more time to get everything done when I get home) and trashing my legs with the clutch-brake dance on the 401.

Fionn helping me make dinner

Despite not having to be in the GTA until 9am (as opposed to 8:30am, when Tank's shift starts), I haven't been able to sleep in as I usually eat breakfast in the car while he drives. Now I have to eat at home and take the few extra minutes to make a cup of something caffeinated to keep me alert before I go. Since winter has struck with a vengeance this week, I've had to get up earlier and earlier in order to make it to work on time; then, on top of having to brush snow or scrape ice off the car every morning this week, there's been a lane closure at Hwy 6N since Tuesday morning that has the highway down to a crawl. So, I get even less sleep in an attempt to make it to my office for 9.

When I do get here, I often find myself stuck - I usually have a coffee with Tanker on his 3pm break by taking my lunch at that time, but between my normal work, payroll year-end, and some other projects that have come out of nowhere, I've struggled to get away from my desk at all. I'm supposed to have an hour for lunch and leave work at 5pm: this week especially, I've been taking my lunch at more like 3:45pm and working until at least 6pm.

Though I have still been running on my lunch, and got to explore a path along this lovely little creek on Monday.

I didn't even make it to mu Mum's last week - we usually visit her every Wednesday evening to give her some company, help out with some chores, and put the garbage out as she had limited mobility. I did stop by this week, but only after putting in 2 hours of overtime. Once I'd finally managed to get the trash out (another thing that Tanker usually handles, bless him) and chatted for a bit, it was 10pm by the time I got home to start dinner.

Just to add to the stress of it all, while I was hanging laundry on Sunday evening our sweet girl Esme came into the room to use the litter box, and dropped a poop streaked with blood. I couldn't take her to work with me (nor could I take a day off), so I collected the stool, double bagged it, and brought it to the office (which it proceeded to stink up, in spite of my precautions) to drop at the vet's office Monday evening. This also saved us having to bring her in, as she has panic attacks in the car.

She seemed fine other than the nasty poop, but I was extremely worried.

The vet called Tuesday morning to say they'd found worm eggs in the sample, so of course now all 3 of our cats needed to be wormed. They asked if I could bring in the other 2 for a checkup as they hadn't been to see this particular vet, but I pled helplessness as Tanker is barely even allowed to pick up our 6 month old kitten, let alone help me get our old 20lb tomcat Karma into a carrier and into the car. The vet took pity on me, so agreed to dispense the worming medication based on the weight of the cats so I could pick it up Tuesday evening.

Have you ever tried to give a pill to a cat that doesn't want it? Fionn was just fine, and even Esme didn't put up much of a struggle, but my old buddy Karma was not having it. He stuck a claw under the cuticle at the base of my middle finger during the second attempt, drawing blood. He spat out the third attempt, and on the fourth he struck out with his paw and sunk a claw right to the hilt into my right ring finger, prying it with all of his considerable strength away from his face (as I tried to hold his mouth shut so he'd swallow the damn thing). I spurted blood, and he spat it out anyway before running away to hide under the bed.

It's probably not a great sign when you end up with blood pooling under the skin beside a deep laceration within seconds.

To make matters even better, after looking to the internet for help on how to get this worming medication into him - particularly as they'd all need a second dose a fortnight later - I was told that they're flavoured  tablets and "most cats and dogs will accept them as a treat". I grabbed the bag of treats Karma loves, laid down on the floor beside the bed, and offered him a treat. He gobbled that up, then I tried the tablet...which of course he ate without issue. I gave him another treat to make sure he'd swallow the pill, then got myself up off the floor. So delighted that I got mauled for no reason whatsoever.

He's still my big chunk of cuddly floof though.

As I had touched on previously, I'm still running on my lunch breaks - it's about the only thing that's keeping me even halfway sane, and I'm still doing what I can to creep up the ranks of the 100 runs in 100 days challenge by putting in doubles on weekends. I was actually hoping I might make top female this year, but I recently found out that the one woman ahead of me - with whom I was more or less keeping pace over Christmas and New Year's - either works from home or is a stay-at-home mom, and was being limited by her kids being home for 2 weeks over the holidays. Now she's putting in triple and even quadruple run days during the week, while I just slip further and further behind.

Oh, and did I mention she's in California? Definitely not dealing with the ice, snow and frigid temperatures we're getting here.

Though she also doesn't get to see sights like this sunset down the icy Speed River.

Any one - or even two together - of these things I could probably brush off, even when compounded by the everything-is-exhausting fatigue after the Stride Inside 6-hour. But honestly, coming all at once has run me absolutely ragged, and the worst part is that it's keeping me from being the person I strive to be. I want to be a patient, loving caregiver and wife to Tanker while he recovers. I want to keep a nice house for him while he's stuck in it, other than a short walk outside each day. I want to give our kitties the best possible life - one where they're all healthy, happy and thriving. I want to do my job well, and meet all of my deadlines. Finally, I want to train at a higher level so I can have a better season than I did last year, and take on some big challenges in 2019.

I feel like I'm failing at all of it. I'm so tired I had to pull off the road on the way home last night to take a 15min nap in my car because I literally could not keep my eyes open. The exhaustion and stress have driven me into survival mode, so I can't be the supportive wife and caregiver that Tank needs. I'm nowhere near as competent at the daily round of housekeeping chores as he is, so things get forgotten - I realised this morning I hadn't even checked the mail this week. I feel like a terrible pet owner for letting worms take hold of our Esme, especially since it's so likely that Fionn - an innocent little 6-month-old kitten - is infected as well. I was late to work twice this week, so despite all the late evenings I feel like a terrible employee. I'm barely hanging in the top 40 overall of the 100 runs in 100 days challenge, despite my best efforts to be consistent - even running the day after Stride Inside.

I've also been less kind than I should overall, and I feel awful about the way I've responded to this situation overall. I know you're probably laughing at my whinging right now, if you've even managed to read this far without giving up in disgust - so many people have it so much worse, and I'm crumbling under the pressure of far less than any single parent goes through for years on end. I'm ashamed of who I am as a person, and my lack of ability to cope with adversity.

Running has been my solace - if there's a silver lining, it's that running from my office (instead of Tank's warehouse, where I usually drop off the car on my lunch break) has allowed me to explore some new routes in Mississauga. In theory, I should also be happy that I will be able to do so with friends tomorrow at the Frosty Trail 3-hour. Unfortunately, it's difficult to look forward to running in this:

Mrph.

My number one goal will have to be to keep myself in sufficiently good condition that I'm still able to get everything done around the house this weekend - I can't be reduced to walking sideways down stairs if I have laundry baskets to carry. I'd like to try to wait an hour after the end of the 3-hour and then head out for a second run with the folks doing the 6-hour to make it a double, though I know it will be difficult to convince myself to do so in the biting cold and wind, and may have to forget about it if I'm feeling beat up; chores don't care if you had a race, they still need to be done.

Most of all, I need to try to practice more kindness - I may be having a bit of a tough go, but the people (and pets) around me deserve the best I can give them. So, I'll stagger on regardless, and try to be better.

Two weeks down - two more to go.