Tales of a Codependent on the Treadmill

I had a really hard time on the treadmill this morning. My legs and left knee were aching. The fanny pack was sliding down my shorts so I couldn’t reach the tissues for my nose which was running like Niagara Falls. I wanted a drink of water so I tried to adjust the incline, but I hit the speed button instead, twice, once at a seven and once at an eleven. How do you think that worked out? I am not a Boston Marathon runner. I’m trying to keep up with the treadmill, on an incline, holding on tight, which is hurting my already sore shoulders, that were injured months ago hauling wood. It’s hard to do the treadmill on an incline while trying to read Conversation with Christ and The Language of Letting Go. Let go? I’m trying not to fall off this blasted thing! My fanny pack is threatening to fall off completely. So, it gets moved in punishment to hang on the handle bar of the treadmill and if I reach in there I’m going to probably fall on my face.  So, of course, this is the perfect moment for my heart rate monitor, with its brand-new battery, to stop working. Now I don’t know how many calories this torture is burning. This just isn’t fair! So pretty soon I’m having a meltdown like Winona Ryder when Whoopie Goldberg throws her in the ice-cold bathtub in “Girl Interrupted.” She starts screaming “this is a fascist torture chamber!” I’m just trying to get my work out done for heaven’s sake!

I do have a choice. I could just stop and not do it. Let’s instead, however, put those 12 step principles into practice. I am determined to persevere and get my hour in on the treadmill.  So, what do I do? I make a note of my anger outburst level, which was an 80 and mark it down to tell my sponsor later, as I have been tracking my anger. What do I do with that energy? I put in Cloudburst Flight by Tangerine Dream and I keep going.  17 minutes to go.

I am now reading in Conversations with Christ by Douglas Gwyn while walking. “Is there a situation that you have handled differently than you usually would? Has the problem or situation been changed by your action? If so, how? Has the action changed how you see yourself? If so how?”

Well, yesterday my ProTools software decided it was going to declare a large portion of my audio book files missing, leaving huge gaps in my audio book chapter clips. The feeling I had was fear. All of that work, gone. I had taken extra care to save these files in 3 different places. They were fine when I left them. Now they are gone. I was scared but I didn’t get angry and I didn’t freak out. I tried calmly to find these files. Thanks be to God that my audio book is done. I need these files, but I don’t need them right this minute. I can take the mp4’s, upload and splice them as I need to do that. Not ideal.

The good news is that I walked away. I didn’t have a meltdown or rage attack. That is progress. I went and did my Ohio State String Teachers Workshop work. I need to talk to technology at Avid, but don’t have time now and won’t do so until I’m calm. Something is wrong with the template I am using. I need a new template. Let it go, Juliet. Let go. Go do something else. I walked away. Yay me.

Getting back to Douglas Gwyn’s passage, he encourages us now to search for a scripture within our hearts that speaks to our condition. Is there one? Yes:

Be still and know that I am God.

Psalm 46:10.

Bring Christ in your vision. What do you imagine he is saying to you?

Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. Let go. Let go.

God is going to reveal each step when I need to hear it. I am not going to know right now. It’s all going to be all right. I just have to live in the moment and in the spirit and not get all bunched up. He will take of me. Listen, be present. Give thanks to God.

There goes the nose again. I’m late for Quaker meeting!

I rush into my office and sit down at the computer with hair dripping wet from a lightning fast shower, yogurt/pumpkin concoction and coffee in hand. I sit down, I close my eyes, I breathe. Just breathe. Just relax. Let go. As I sit in my chair and worship begins, the sweat on my brow accompanies me, adorning my face and landing on my shirt. Mozart’s Requiem Mass blasts in my head. I breathe in and out. My nose begins to run. Again.

Written by Juliet A. Wright

July 12, 2020

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