Feisty February

February has started out with a bang.  I put the kabosh on my student's disrespectful behavior and bullying, pushed back against my supervisors, have stayed firm in my relationship standards and now I'm standing up for myself personally.

My mama is the best mama, and I would have been
 lost without her support.  She knows how to dance in
the rain--literally, as this picture proves. lol

Recently, it was brought to my attention that a lot of my acquaintances were taking "sides" between myself and my ex-husband.  One of the most frustrating things I've found in the whole divorce process is the lack of understanding from others.  People have this idea that people who are divorced loathe their former spouses and are now traipsing through the daisies happily celebrating their newfound freedom.  That, or their divorce and marital happiness is somehow "contagious" and that by merely being in your presence they might "catch it" and find themselves out on the streets.  The third camp thinks it's inappropriate to even be discussing relationships in public, and have probably quit reading this post already.

Giant eye-roll emoji to all three of those. My ex-husband and I do not hate each other, and as far as either of us are concerned, there aren't any "sides". Relationships change over time.  Sometimes those changes bring people closer and sometimes they bring people further apart.  It takes courage and self awareness to realize when it's time to end one version of a relationship because it is no longer the best way for two people to be interacting.

Other people's perceptions of divorce made me woefully under prepared for how to deal with mine.  I did not realize it meant a change in my very identity--I used to be a wife, now I'm not; I used to be married, now I'm single; I used to have financial security, now I don't; I used to have a guaranteed someone to call for help, now I'm on my own.

I was unaware of how badly I was coping with this identity change until I ended a bad rebound/friendship at the end of December.  I took a month to "detox" from men and didn't have any contact with anyone I'd had a relationship with for the entirety of January.  It forced me to see things I did not want to see, and admit the real reasons I was so upset at my former friend.

I know how to make fire.  Don't mess with me.

 I'd met this friend when I first came to Colorado three years ago; and he seemed trustworthy and likable.  We'd met a couple times after races, but really didn't know each other much beyond following each other on social media.  In the fall, he started talking to me more regularly and commenting on my social media posts.  We started running together and found out we were both ending/had ended relationships.  Things started escalating in the usual way, and our friendship evolved.

This isn't the forum to talk about the gritty details, but things went badly for several months as I tried to figure out what was going on with my former friend who didn't want to be in a relationship but still wanted all the benefits.  We fought about numerous things, finally culminating in finding out from a mutual friend that he had been with his girlfriend most of the time he'd been seeing me, and had kept me in the dark, on the side, on purpose.

 I suspected for months he was with his girlfriend. I was given so many warning signs about the kind of guy he was before we even got together. But I ignored everything, because I was lonely and sad. And he knew that too.

The nicest thing I can say is he's a bad guy.  He probably has some serious trauma in his life he hasn't dealt with that is preventing him from healthy relationships.  I feel bad for him, and I wish him healing.

But I also feel passionate dislike, because I hate who I became when I was with him.  Never in my life have I allowed anyone to treat me so disrespectfully.  I broke every standard I ever had for people, much less personal relationships, and I behaved like the weak-willed, spineless, cowardly women I've loathed my entire life.  Thinking of him makes me want to throw my phone across the room--not because of him, but because his existence is a reminder of my own humiliating behavior.

How I feel when I think of my former friend. :P

People talk about forgiveness in relationships.  I have no need to forgive my former friend, and I'm certain he does not need it. There are probably reasons he behaved like he did in which I am not interested.  I'm a firm believer in karma.  If he continues this behavior with others, his life will be a bummer.  I hope maybe he learned as much from this experience as I did and considers making changes of his own.

Who I need to forgive is myself.  I've always been proud of my independence and strong will, and my behavior the second half of 2017 makes me want to bury my head in the sand and never come out.  I'm embarrassed for how I behaved with my former friend, but I'm also embarrassed I wasn't strong enough to handle my divorce without falling apart into a million pieces.

Some people might see this post as entirely self serving.  And it most definitely is therapeutic for me to get all of this out in the open, whether people want to hear it or not.

But mostly, I wish I'd had someone to write this post a couple months ago so I didn't have to feel so alone.  If I would have known there were others who had struggled like I had, if I would have had some hope and inspiration--maybe I would have been strong enough to make some better choices.  I hope someone who needs to hear an experience like mine is able to find this post, and it helps them on their journey.

I am enough.  And so are you.  Hugs. :)

You get a hut and you get a hut and... nope, no hut for you

Colorado has an extensive hut system, and I've been trying to get a reservation since I moved to Colorado three years ago.  They've actually instituted a lottery system where members can put in reservations for hut trips and "winners" are randomly selected.  It's a far cry from the plentiful and welcoming huts in Japan!

Everyone else had helpfully packed down the trail for me, so snowshoes
were not necessary.

While I was in Minnesota, I decided I didn't want to spend the entire last week of winter break sitting at my apartment turning into a crazy cat lady, so I randomly checked for any open spot at huts for that week.  To my surprise, there were a TON of openings.  After researching avalanche danger and trailhead information (I don't have snow tires or chains), I took the last available spot at the Section House, just outside of Breckenridge.

I asked my friend to borrow his snowshoes for the 6.5 mile trek in to the hut, and loaded up my pack with way too much stuff.  I could have done without the snowshoes and I didn't need nearly as much water either, since we had ample snow and a pot to melt it at the hut.  Being used to super light packs as a trail runner, I felt like I was carrying a small person on my back, and was about ready to start dragging it behind me when I got about a mile from the hut.  The wind had gotten insane, and I felt like if I got blown over I might just stay and sleep there for the night instead.

So much space!  But don't get near my single son... oy lady.

Finally, I arrived at the hut and stumbled in to a full cabin of strangers staring at me.  They asked if I was alone, and I said yes.  A helpful lady took me upstairs and showed me where the available beds were.  She gave me a weird lecture about how she didn't want me sleeping in the same room as her single son, so I took the bed as far away as possible from everyone.

I settled in and contemplated taking a hike to one of the smaller peaks in the area.  Everyone but me had brought their skis and skins, and a couple brave souls ventured out to test the surrounding terrain.  After hearing their stories on the radio, I decided I would stay in and enjoy the fire instead. 

My cabin mates were two different families, both of whom came well stocked with a veritable grocery store of food.  Literally, one family had pulled a sled full of food behind them on their trek up.  While they were cooking their real food meals, I munched on my cheese and crackers because I don't drag sleds of food behind me.  Nope.  No way in hell.

Sunset

However, once they pulled out the whisky and wine, I thought perhaps a sled full of alcohol would be a different story. :P  They were kind enough to offer both their drink and food, and I did partake of the whiskey.  Several of us popped outside to catch the sunset, and then whiled away the time with Jenga.

The cabins are amazing, with a wood burning stove, sink, pot to boil water, an actual stove/oven for cooking and dishes, pots and pans.  It costs only $30 a night to stay, and with most campsites costing about that much these days, a great bargain!  The Section House is also the oldest mountain hut in Colorado; making the list of historic places.  On both sides of the pass it has easy access and ample parking, and the hikes up are not particularly strenuous with no avalanche danger.  Though ridiculously windy due to the exposure, that exposure provides lovely views and a sense of spaciousness.  Just looking out the window at the hut is beautiful, and there is a ton of space inside the hut as well--so even if you are staying with a bunch of strangers it's nowhere near the awkwardness of side by side futons or even the close quarters of Barr Camp on Pikes Peak.

The Section House and Boreas Pass

I left early the next day because I had a work training at 3 p.m.  I realized I'd lost my ID somewhere on the hike up, so I took it a little slower trying to peer around and see if I could find it.  I decided to wear my snowshoes, even though I didn't need them, as they were too heavy to carry, and I made much better time on the way down.  When I arrived at the parking lot, a nice guy from the next car over asked if I'd put my ID on my car as a guarantee because I wasn't supposed to park there.  I responded with a confused, what?  He pointed out my ID was tucked under my back windshield wiper.  I literally screamed, jumping up and down with joy.  The guy took it in stride, and asked if I had meant to do that.  I said no, I lost my ID somewhere on the trek up and had no idea how someone knew that was my car and my ID.  He asked about trail and hut conditions, and we had a nice chat until his group was ready to hike up.

Leaving Breckenridge, I was smiling from ear to ear.  My trip was everything I'd hoped it'd be... welcoming people, great views, and the camaraderie of people who enjoy doing the exact same thing I'm doing.  I took the scenic route home, enjoying the views of the surrounding 14ers and other mountains, arriving home in time to do laundry and repack for my trip to Barr Camp for the New Year.

Mountains are the shit. :P