A one-knee knock-down!

This is my knee. It hurts. A lot.




There is good news:
It still works. It's not broken. I can walk. All amazing things.
And I hope that I don't forget these things in the coming weeks.

Because... there is some not-so-good news:
I have a partial tear in my MCL and a bone bruise/micro-fracture on my tibia.
In English: I have a sprained inside-knee ligament and a sore leg bone.

In the scheme of things, I am a lucky girl.
"It could be worse," said the radiologist.
"Best case scenario," smiled my chiropractor.

I pouted: But when can I run?


The verdict is still out, but it looks like I'll be sitting on the sidelines until at least July.
6-8 weeks likely.
Rest. (I loathe that word almost as much as the phrase "be patient")
Ice. (my knee's new best friend)
Physiotherapy. (I start Monday.)
A sense of humour. (Laughing at myself is my new routine.)

I had a cry in the parking garage.
Again in the house.
On the chiropractor's table.
And outside the office.

Pity cries. You know, the ugly Poor Me kind that you never really want any one to know you partook in?
Yep. I did that.
Blubbered.
Felt sorry for myself.
Been down that road before.
And went really far down it again.

Dad asked: "So? What's the verdict?"
"The worst!!!!" I sobbed.
"Amputation?" he asked.

He has a way of putting things into perspective. fast.

Lucky for me, positivity is abound in my life.
When I am down, I have pick-me-ups!

You're loved, said dad.
You've overcome much worse, said mom.
You'll have sunshine again, said one friend.
You always beat the odds, said another.

If anyone can rise above, it's you, said yet another.

My own cheering section. How'd I get so lucky?

As the day wore on and the results became familiar, I started to come to terms with it.
It's just a month or two.
It stinks, no doubt about it.
But I need to channel my frustration into positive healing vibes.
I need to give it my all at physio.
Think positively about the future.
And come back with conviction in July with a strong knee and a fearless heart.
I'll be a force to be reckoned with on the tail end of the race circuit this year.

With a fire in my belly, I hobble on...

One week on crutches

Things that are difficult on crutches
- Grocery shopping
- Hills
- Walking the dog
- Getting in and out of the shower, the car, the office, ...
- Navigating around bar stools
- Stairs

Things that make it not so bad
- People holding doors
- The Wheelchair parking spot
- More time to read books

I have massive respect for every other person who is down and out and can't walk and somehow presses on with a smile and conviction.

This is starting to get old for me... 

I feel trapped. I miss running.

I have so many races coming up this summer, so many activities... I'm antsy to get back outside.

One more day until I know what I'm dealing with.

Fingers crossed for great news!

Sunshine, mountains, and a trip back to Square One

After an extraordinarily long grey and rainy winter, the sun finally rose – and stayed – the second week of May. I headed to Whistler on a whim for one last snowboard (ironically for me, the "first" snowboard in 3+ years since hurting my back).

It was 25 degrees at the base. Not much cooler up top.
Three of my friends took to 7th Heaven on Blackcomb Mountain to do some alpine boarding in paradise. I played it cautious, met up with Sean, an instructor at the mountain, and headed up some green slopes for a few hours of lessons.

"I've never been on a mountain this big," I said. Half excited; half terrified.
"We're gonna rip it up!" he said with confidence.
We high-fived.

At the top, skiers and snowboarders were in t-shirts, tank tops, even a few bikinis. It was like out of a B movie from the 80s, minus the fluorescents. I was the only one with a helmet and mitts (safety first!).

The view made me stop in my tracks, lose sense of time, and just fall in love.
Blue sky. White capped mountains. "Wow".

Sean chimed in: "Let's go. Show me what you know."

Uh... what?

I gulped. Then I "showed" him: strapped myself in and started down the hill with a couple of slow and silly pendulum like moves.

"That's it," I said, shrugging. "Those are my moves."

"We'll have you carving again in no time," he said.

Half way down the first run I was switching from toe to heel, going faster, feeling the breeze. Stripped off my jacket and my gloves. It was steamy! And the view.... WHOA!! ... the view was like standing on the top of the world, on a cloud, in heaven and looking out at something so majestic it nearly hurt.

It was the blue gem of a sky with a zig-zag white-cap horizon.

Heaven on earth

I faceplanted.

"What happened?" Sean said laughing, boarding over to give me a hand.
"I got caught up in the view. I forgot I was boarding," I said pulling chunks of snow out of my shirt.
"Yah," he said, pausing. "That does happen here - a lot!"

The hours wore on. More falling. More boarding. More carving. Faster and faster. Less wobbly each time. I was getting my groove back. I felt alive.

"How does it feel?" he yelled over as he carved in tandem down one of the steeper parts of the hill.
"SOOOO awesome!" I smiled back. I couldn't wait to meet up with my friends on the top. I felt strong and confident.

By the second run, my falls were fewer, my stance was stronger, and I had all kinds of confidence.
The sun was shining. The snow was glistening. I was smiling.
Every now and again I realized I was wearing a t-shirt + boarding pants only. And I laughed.
Best. Snowboarding. Experience. Ever!

I was carving through paradise.

Then, another skier fell in front of me (W-a-y in front of me – so far in front it shouldn't have been an issue at all). I got scared, caught an edge, and spun. My legs crossed over each other and my board stuck in the snow while the momentum forced my upper body to keep turning. I wrung myself out like a rag.

My knee felt like it would snap in half.

I finally came to a stop.

"Whoa! You really twisted up there," said Sean. "You okay."

I looked up.
Swallowed tears.
Lied: "Totally."

"Let's get back at it," he said.

"Can you show me that last move again? I think I put my weight in the wrong area." I said feigning interest in a recap.

I was buying myself time to get a grip, pull myself together, forget the pain, and stand up again.
There was no way that I was getting hurt on this mountain, on this day, right before summer.

He showed me.
Then motioned for me to get rolling.

I stood up and my legs shook.

I'm just scared, I thought. It's just because I fell.

I headed down toward Sean.
And I spent the next 45 minutes falling every two turns.
"I've lost my mojo!" I said, lying face up in the snow. slush down my pants, up my shirt, in my face. Hands red with cold.

"You're not really using your left knee" he said. "Put more weight on it."

"Right," I nodded. "Of course."

So I did. It shook. But I made it precariously down the hill.

In 4 hours, I went from terrified to back in the saddle and blissed out to terrified again.
Oh, life. What a crazy rollercoaster you are.

At the bottom again, a text from my friends: a picture of a Corona Margarita on the patio in Whistler Village. Caption: "You've earned this."

We all reconvened on the patio where we stripped down to our long underwear (it was SOOO hot), drank beers and margarita, and reminisced in the beauty of the day.

Celebrating snowboarding bliss!

Adjectives thrown around amid beer sips and fry eating included:
"epic"
"dreamy"
"Stunning"
"f-in awesome!"

We headed back to the chalet for more hot tubbing and BBQing.
I limped a little.
"You ok?" asked a friend.
"Think so" I said.


We pressed forth.

By midnight, we were all zonked. 8 hours in the sun. Too much food. Too much beer. Too much bliss. (Actually, you really can't have enough bliss.)

Sunday morning I woke up with a headache inside my knee.
I know, sounds crazy. But it felt like my knee was having a migraine.
I limped around.
"What'd you do?"

"Must've sprained it," i said.
"You should get that checked out," another friend said.
"yah yah," I sloughed her off and put some peas on it.

With the cars packed and massive hugs had, we all drove home.
Man, that was incredible, I thought.
Then a pang in my knee like spine-tingling jolt. Zing.
I can't believe I boarded in a t-shirt, I recollected.
Another pang – zing – right inside my knee.

I drove straight to the walkin clinic.

"Take off your pants" said the doctor with no personality and all sorts of sternness.
I stripped down. (As a side bar, I think it's weird that a doctor has the authority to tell you to take off your pants and you just do with no questions asked. If a guy asked me to do that in the street, I'd slap him!)

"Well, this could be bad" she said.
I gulped.
"How bad?"
"Not sure," she said

She hooked me up with crutches and anti-infammatories.
Sent me for x-rays and an MRI.

Look ma: I did it again!

MRI results come in on Tuesday.
I'm personally hoping for "minor sprain. you'll be up and running trails again in two weeks."
But the precariousness of my knee and the bubble of pain inside has me slightly worried that I might be in for a bit of an uphill battle.

Still, I boarded in a t-shirt on the top of Blackcomb Mountain!! Highligh of my life!!
So not all is lost.
I'll keep you posted.

Losing it and finding it...

"I think I'm having a mid-life crisis" I said over kale juice and oatmeal to one of my best friends a few weeks ago.

He smirked: "You're insane. You're not old enough to have a midlife crisis."

"No really, I am." I was adamant.

 "Okay, so what's this crisis: you want a ferrari?" We both laughed and then I laid it on him.

 Here I am, livin' the dream. I have a home that I own (well, the bank owns but I am working on it) in arguably one of the most beautiful cities in the world. I run my own business. It's successful (because my accountant says so.) I make good money. I feel creative. I work hard. My health is great. I run in the mountains on the weekends. I have friends. I am, by all accounts, one helluva lucky woman. I'm probably luckier than 90% of the world's population. There is food on my table. I have shelter. I have employment. I have a car. I have expendable cash. I have a family that loves me through and through. 

When I finished touting the laundry list of great things in my life, he says: "so what's the problem?" 

"I'm not fulfilled." I said. I worry about money incessantly. I can't sleep because I worry about paying my staff. I work 7 days a week and have for 6 years. I live and breathe my business – and I can't see how to change that because I love it like a mother loves a son. I'm trying to raise a child into awesomeness here. I'm tired. I don't take vacations. When my friends ask me to hang out, I say "I can't. Too busy. Have a deadline. Must work. Have to get to bed early..." to the point where the invitations become few and far between. I eat every meal out of my home and haven't used my stove once in 6 months. Not because I don't want to but because I am at the office, working, trying to build something that means something to me so deeply it's indescribable. I see my friends and family building new families – marriages, kids, travel, excitement. I've never really craved any of that – I suppose I've never really met someone that I wanted it with, but now I'm wondering if I've been so focused on work and building a company that I've totally neglected building a life. ANd is it too late for that? And am I too invested in my business to take a step back.

So. Many. Doubts.

Am I on the wrong path?
Is life passing me by?

"Take a breath" he said. "Since I've known you, you've been working, working, working. The hardest working person I know. But," he said "you've been working this hard for THIS moment. You are on the cusp. Everything you said you were going to do with your business, you did. Now you're THIS close to getting what you want – a fine tuned machine that runs with or without you. By the end of the year you'll be able to step away and not worry. Because you built it. And you'll have time to be Kim McMullen, the person. And you'll have earned it."

 I swallowed tears.

"I think I should just liquidate it and travel the world." I said.

"Ok. you're right." he said flabbergasted by my stubborness "You're definitely having a crisis."

I carried on that week.
Hemming and hawing.
 Doubting myself.
 Wondering what to do next.

 A tearful call with dad.
A blue-sky session over wine with a dear friend.
A text to my brother.
A reminder from an old lady that life is a bunch of highs and lows. And that's why it's great.

I sought advice.
I talked it out.
 I wrote a little.
I ran a lot and used the pace as therapy.
I hiked each night.
I pet Harley and it soothed me.
I stared at the ceiling and talked out loud.
 What is a girl to do.

 And then, like an anvil in a Wyle E Coyote cartoon – it hit me.
Big.
Massive.
Blammo!

I'm already living the dream. I've been sour and longing over an "I want this" list for a month. I've been focused on what I'm missing. What's not here. What's lacking. I've been so insular in my thinking that I forgot to "see" that what I want I already have.


I want to have more time for myself – so I booked a trip to Iceland, I flew to Atlanta on a whim, I joined a trail running group on thursdays, I'm taking a vegan cooking class on Wednesdays. I say yes to friends more. I booked extra time on the end of a business trip to see family instead of making the excuse that I have to work. I still work weekends and on weekdays until midnights sometimes ... but I have the things I want. I made the time. I found the pockets. And it actually makes me enjoy my crazy work schedule more. Making time has become a priority. And I'm pretty good at it, actually. Yay me.

I want more money – I've committed to taking the third Friday of every month off and STILL paying myself (imagine), I started a TFSA, I bike or walk to work and save $200/month in parking, I get my clothes from clothes swaps instead of department stores and I end up getting cool stuff and meeting cool people at the same time. I may not be rich, but I'm finding ways to save, and feel richer. My money/energy flow is increasing. I've got good money mojo coming.

 I want to figure it out – I'm running 5 days a week and using the time to sort out my head – work, life, love, philosophy, heart. I have Blue Sky dates with friends who love to toss around ideas and help each other achieve their goals. I have a life coach who pushes me to set and achieve goals that matter to me – in my gut. Deep down. I talk more openly and honestly to my friends and family than I ever have before about what I'm struggling with and they listen. And they help. And I feel I have direction. And support. I'm figuring it out.

I want to be outside more – so I open the windows, I eat dinner on the balcony, I buy fresh flowers, I walk to work, I hike on the weekends, I play fetch at 6. I have fresh air in my life and it is bliss. I'm outside a lot.

I want to be a better business women – I talk to other entrepeneurs; I belong to networking groups; I set planning sessions with my accounting team; I read two business books a month and talk about them with a book club I started; I take the president of a local successful company out for beers once a quarter just to pick his brain; I ask for advice. I don't know everything but I am learning.

Blammo!
Bam!
There it is.

 All this crazy talk about turning my life upside down to get what I want and it turns out that I already have everything in spades. I just had to ditch my whiney longing for something more and turn up the Gratitude Dial a little. Turns out things are actually pretty great. And I'm doing an okay job at this wacky thing called life.

 I guess the Ferrari will have to wait.