Heart Athletics

The heart is figuratively as much of a muscle as it is literally. In the span of a lifetime the heart goes through a similar journey as that of an athlete. Of course, not all of us are athletes (myself included in this category), just as not all of us are heart-athletes (a category which I definitely fit in to). As I near the finish line of my personal heart marathon, I am looking back on what my heart has been through over the past year…

To begin, the image of my heart as an athlete came to me the other night in a moment of clarity; today my heart feels stronger, fuller, and if possible, bigger. Two years ago, my heart was akin to a 90-pound weakling that had sand kicked at it’s face on the beach. Injured and seriously out of shape, my heart was also doing the emotional equivalent of spending every day at home eating snacks on the couch while watching daytime TV.

When I met Gio over one year ago, my heart was, at first, comically reluctant to get back into shape. It had been using the equivalent of serious, but healed, sports injury as an excuse to never get off the couch again. It was also very nervous about falling flat on it’s face again and wanted to avoid such embarrassment.  Gio took it upon himself start off as my personal heart trainer, not fully realizing at first that he chose a reluctant couch-potato as his client. However, he was committed to getting my heart back in shape and he never gave up. As with any personal trainer, the key is “demonstrate and motivate!”

Gio’s perseverance paid off and my heart started to make some progress. Actually, after the typical resistance to any new regime, my heart started to really enjoy stretching it’s legs. This new routine was unlike any other exercise my heart had tried before. Soon, my heart was craving the chemicals produced by heart-athletics just as athletes start to crave the endorphins of exercise.

Fully addicted to the rush of falling in love, my heart was able to stand a mini-marathon in July when Gio and I were apart for a month while I was working France. It was a good test to see if we were up to the challenge that was soon to befall us. Together again in August, my heart was able to stretch, grab a glass of water and recharge before the real marathon began.

September came and we tried to start off on a steady pace with our hearts running the same route thousands of kilometers apart. The terrain was new and my heart was unstable and a bit off balance, especially after the first leg. Unable to bear the whole first leg of the run, I took a shortcut by going to Italy in October. Sometimes shortcuts are necessary and in this case, it was the wisest decision possible. In December we had our official half-way break and enjoyed the success of having made it thus far. Since then, we have had 101 days of marathon-distance to tackle. It hasn’t been easy, but the finish line is tantalizingly close. I can taste the victory already… I feel joyous and exalted for having made it. It is a true feat and I am very proud. My heart is pumping so hard and it feels about ready to burst. I’ve never felt my heart so strong, yet in such need of a good rest.

Not every heart needs to go through this, just as not everyone needs to run a marathon to be a healthy person. But the heart does need regular exercise and it needs to be healthy to take on any huge project. Perhaps heart-yoga is a good way to ease into things, for those who are alone or not up for a strenuous run. However, the end of one race doesn’t mean the end of running. It’s easy to slip out of shape without regular practice. Old age or complacence is certainly no excuse. Once a routine gets boring or uninspired, it’s time to change the route, whatever that may mean. I am officially retiring from marathon heart-runs next week, but I am excited to see what sort of exercise Italy will force my heart to adapt to. Hopefully it will be something a little less strenuous and instead something with a lot of patience and care. Such as tai chi.  

Please feel free to make comments at the end of my postings – I would love to hear other people’s opinions or experiences about anything I bring up! 

Pre-departure

Innamoratevi! Se non vi innamorate è tutto morto! Vi dovete innamorare, e diventa tutto vivo. Per essere felici dovete patire, stare male, soffrire. Non abbiate paura di soffrire: tutto il mondo soffre.(Robeto Benigni)

Language.

The end of a university degree is a time of change for anyone; for me, this change involves not only leaving school, but leaving my home, my family, my friends and my country. Not that any of this is new, as this will be my third time since 2007 moving to Europe to live for an extended period of time. However, what is new is the loss of the safety net of UBC. My elusive Bachelor's degree has loomed ominously in the background for five years, always calling me home. While this was cumbersome and limiting in the past, I was happy enough to receive this call. A Bachelor's degree seems to be a prerequisite to life these days. While I still don't quite understand this, what made sense to me was sitting in class, being spoken to in French, reading in French and attempting to make myself articulate in French writing and speaking. Not only do I have the nice ability of adding the words "BA" to my CV, but more importantly, after the letters BA I can put "French." It is a beautiful and lush language that I now fear losing because I'm not moving to France, as I was half-expecting to do a little over one year ago. I'm moving to Italy instead, where my limited language skills have been frantically put together at warp-speed throughout the past year.

Love.

After eight months of Benigni-approved suffering, the long-distance chapter of my 13000km, cross-continental, 9 hour time difference relationship is coming to a close. I would not recommend doing a long distance relationship (even to Benigni) unless you are very serious about that person on the other side of the world. It is lot of work and the rewards of that work are tragically far away. Time plays tricks on you, speeding up during the moments of togetherness and lurching to an awkward halt when life is already being dreary or difficult. That being said, it says something about any couple that has the desire to survive such intense separation. There needs to be a light at the end of the tunnel. When I left Italy in August, it wasn't even a question that I would be back as soon as I possibly could (which proved to be especially true after finding a cheap flight for a whirlwind visit in October!) My life is in Italy, so long as Gio is there. 
As I recently told Gio, I'm ready for a new challenge. This long-distance nonsense is getting real boring. Well, if it's a challenge I want, it's a challenge I will have! Yes, I am gallivanting off to one of the most luxuriously romantic countries in the entire world, but no, I will not be gazing into Gio's eyes under soft moonlit twilight for the rest of my days. Unfortunately. 

Life.

Life still goes on. Gio still has a Masters to complete and I have to be doing something with my time whilst living in a household of hard-working Italians. So, as soon as I arrive I will be frantically re-learning how to drive a stick-shift (thank goodness for my six-month stint of driving small children around the Alps!) so that I can go to work the following week as a language instructor.
Leaving Canada will be emotional, our reunion will be incredible and the new challenges will be plentiful. It's a lot to take in. But, I feel so lucky to be embarking on something so exciting. If I had told myself back on February 2^nd 2010 that I would be moving to Italy to be with the Italian guy I just met in the navy-blue "Why lie…?" sweatshirt, I might not have believed it. 
But it did happen. (Magnolia)