I've been thinking a lot about my ultimate goal in this weight loss, health movement I've taken on. My thought process has been stimulated and sometimes challenged by those around me.
A friend recently asked me if I ever fantasized of "waking up skinny." Without hesitation, I was on my soapbox and running. Ha, running. That's a loud and clear, "No." I have no desire to be skinny, thin or any other synonym of that nature. I'm currently working toward dropping those words from my personal lexicon. To me, they hold as much negative connotation as the word fat. In all honesty, "skinny" evokes images of weak, helpless "maidens" who lack the ability to fend for themselves, "kittens" who need protection and rescue. Skinny would be a completely unrealistic goal and the desire to be so would only set me up for crushing failure. I am aware of my desires and limitations; my mind and body are not designed for "skinny."
So what do I want to be when I grow down? My fantasy: To look like freakin' Jordan O'Neill (G.I. Jane) or Ellen Ripley (Alien). Keep in mind, I said fantasy. Realistically I simply want to be healthy, athletic, fit and confident. However, the capability of kicking someones ass when necessary would be pretty sweet.
Today the same friend mentioned that she belly danced un-inebriated in public. I love that. She too struggles with self confidence and she expressed feeling empowered and free for doing something so outside of her comfort zone. So what empowers me? Obviously running, but also, blurring that line separating what are thought to be feminine or masculine activities. In the past few weeks I've spent a bit of time with the boys in the Industrial Arts classroom. It's hugely satisfying to demonstrate that, in fact, some girls actually know how to handle a hand-held router and know the difference between a cheese grater file and a rasp.
Today, I spent at least a half an hour hacking away at an 8ft long, 2ft high block of ice with a forty pound ice chisel. Why? Because my father unfortunately is no longer capable of that type of physical labor. Because he suggested that the job wait until the Other Half came home from work. Because, "I'm not a maiden fair and I am not a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere."
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Shamrocks and Shenanigans
I kicked off my day with a 1.6lb loss, making the total to date 57.4lbs. This, on top of the fact that I can now stake a claim on having successfully completed an official 5k race. I can't even begin to describe how I feel. Relieved, proud, empowered, elated to say the least.
The 8th Annual Shamrock Shuffle runner, number 248 came in 326th place out of 340 participants. I accomplished the two main goals that I had set for myself. Goal 1: Quite simply, finish. Goal 2: Good God, don't finish dead last.
My total running (and walking) time was 38:57.50. That's pretty damn good. I do however, want to point out and I am in no way comparing myself to others, that the top runner finished the race in 15:36.20. Let's put this word problem into perspective: As I was approximately 2 minutes into mile 2, Winner was casually rolling through the finish line as though he'd just walked 3.1 feet. That's not bitterness, it's straight up awe.
Crossing that finish line was one of my greatest accomplishments and I honestly could not have done it without the support of some pretty amazing people. My biggest fans, my baby girl and other half, I cannot begin to sum up the inspiration they provide. The greatest 17 year old on earth, who's voice was all I could hear as I came into the final stretch. My close friend and her boyfriend, who only this morning gave me shit for not telling him I was running, signed up and stuck with me for the first mile before leaving me in the dust. In particular, my running partner. An avid runner who has participated in half marathons and runs 6 miles a day. She was by my side the entire time, way before the race even started. Had it not been for her I would never have done this in the first place. I even ran a solid 8/10 of a mile, the most I have run in one shot outside, all thanks to her pacing me! Not to mention the many others who have encouraged me along the way.
I feel good, I feel strong, and I'm ready for the next race in June. I think this could possibly mean that I can consider myself a runner. This coming from the girl who only two years ago insisted she, "Only ran in emergencies."
The 8th Annual Shamrock Shuffle runner, number 248 came in 326th place out of 340 participants. I accomplished the two main goals that I had set for myself. Goal 1: Quite simply, finish. Goal 2: Good God, don't finish dead last.
My total running (and walking) time was 38:57.50. That's pretty damn good. I do however, want to point out and I am in no way comparing myself to others, that the top runner finished the race in 15:36.20. Let's put this word problem into perspective: As I was approximately 2 minutes into mile 2, Winner was casually rolling through the finish line as though he'd just walked 3.1 feet. That's not bitterness, it's straight up awe.
Crossing that finish line was one of my greatest accomplishments and I honestly could not have done it without the support of some pretty amazing people. My biggest fans, my baby girl and other half, I cannot begin to sum up the inspiration they provide. The greatest 17 year old on earth, who's voice was all I could hear as I came into the final stretch. My close friend and her boyfriend, who only this morning gave me shit for not telling him I was running, signed up and stuck with me for the first mile before leaving me in the dust. In particular, my running partner. An avid runner who has participated in half marathons and runs 6 miles a day. She was by my side the entire time, way before the race even started. Had it not been for her I would never have done this in the first place. I even ran a solid 8/10 of a mile, the most I have run in one shot outside, all thanks to her pacing me! Not to mention the many others who have encouraged me along the way.
I feel good, I feel strong, and I'm ready for the next race in June. I think this could possibly mean that I can consider myself a runner. This coming from the girl who only two years ago insisted she, "Only ran in emergencies."
Friday, March 6, 2009
Brick
Seared into my heart and engraved on my wrist, the 16th is slowly approaching. It has been close to three years since my body failed at creating and sustaining a life.
The weeks leading up are difficult. I cannot bring myself to talk about how I feel, I'm not sure I even want to. At random, some days are harder than others. I pretend nothing is different, busying myself with work and small talk, anything to avoid being alone and remembering. Sometimes I drift in and out of character, getting lost in myself and then snapping back excessively.
I dread the night. I feel alone in the dark, balled up, perfectly still, and overwhelmed by the inability to shut out the thought process. This is when I feel it all over again, the constant dull ache, the rushing unstoppable wave of pain, followed by an infinite emptiness.
I've come to terms with my loss, that had it not occurred, I would not be where I am now. However, my emotional investment did not cease to exist along with my child.
I hurt, I miss you, I love you.
The weeks leading up are difficult. I cannot bring myself to talk about how I feel, I'm not sure I even want to. At random, some days are harder than others. I pretend nothing is different, busying myself with work and small talk, anything to avoid being alone and remembering. Sometimes I drift in and out of character, getting lost in myself and then snapping back excessively.
I dread the night. I feel alone in the dark, balled up, perfectly still, and overwhelmed by the inability to shut out the thought process. This is when I feel it all over again, the constant dull ache, the rushing unstoppable wave of pain, followed by an infinite emptiness.
I've come to terms with my loss, that had it not occurred, I would not be where I am now. However, my emotional investment did not cease to exist along with my child.
I hurt, I miss you, I love you.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Sleep to Dream
Today I stopped by my friend/coworker's office for a handful of Skittles on my way to the bathroom. I do this, on average, twice a day in an attempt to escape my clients and their peers. Lately, I seem to have gained a following of teenage boys who attempt to hit on me, while at the same time repulse me with their bodily functions and expertly extracted snot. Neither action has earned them the responses they hope for.
While picking out the red and purple Skittles from the adults only container, my coworker described a rather funny dream she had had the night before. Naturally, the conversation turned to me and I, in turn, described the marshmallow dream I wrote about in the post Dreaming. I tell her that I think I've determined the type of dream I'm having, yet when she questions my knowledge of its meaning, I stupidly respond through a mouthful of segregated fruit flavors, "Dunno."
Who needs Dr. Drew when you have a friend with a Masters in Social Work. Within seconds she's scrolling through an alphabet of dream symbolism on her computer.
While picking out the red and purple Skittles from the adults only container, my coworker described a rather funny dream she had had the night before. Naturally, the conversation turned to me and I, in turn, described the marshmallow dream I wrote about in the post Dreaming. I tell her that I think I've determined the type of dream I'm having, yet when she questions my knowledge of its meaning, I stupidly respond through a mouthful of segregated fruit flavors, "Dunno."
Who needs Dr. Drew when you have a friend with a Masters in Social Work. Within seconds she's scrolling through an alphabet of dream symbolism on her computer.
Marshmallows: To see a marshmallow represents timidity and lack of self-confidence. You need to learn to be more assertive and stand up for yourself.
Needle: The use of a needle indicates that you need to mend some relationship or situation.
Emptiness: To dream of emptiness signifies fruitless labor or that something is missing in your life. There is nothing to show for all the effort that you have dedicated to a project or development.
Fucking Christ! I can't even rely on sleep to escape reality. Skittles in hand and mouth, I headed to take a pee and send an email to douche bag. We're meeting at 2:30 tomorrow to discuss why I think he sucks.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Classic Girl
Vacation has brought forth a series of reconnects via Facebook. Much like blogging, I've been resistant to online networking. My MySpace page has been lying dormant in cyberspace for some time. Despite this, I set up a Facebook page. The "friends" began rolling in almost instantly. At first I accepted requests from everyone , but I've decided I need to be more selective. I'm not the "collector" type; I'm not going to request someone because a friend of a friend has them on their list and we met a few times. I like quality, not quantity.
Quality:
Drifter. Drifter was a close friend throughout my school days, but we quickly lost touch after graduation. She was one of my 1st FB friends. After several emails and chat sessions, Drifter assertively committed me to dinner and drinks. Monday night was spent catching up over potent $2 margaritas. It was fantastic. We discovered who we truly were to one another 15 plus years ago.
First. First is exactly that: my first sexual partner. I was hesitant and fearful to contact him, but the noncommittal nature of an email won out in the end. Overnight, I was enthusiastically accepted back into his life. Again, emails and chats have quelled my curiosity. I have found him to be happy, healthy and exactly who I've held in my memory.
Out. A rabid social networker who pounced on me on MySpace and again on FB. Out was a high school acquaintance. Shy, quiet, there, but insignificant to most. My one solid memory of him is the day he boldly approached me in class and blurted, "You have beautiful eyes." My esteemless teenage girl never forgot that. Out came out to me two nights ago. Maybe this was an inappropriate response, but I quickly typed: "I know you are hon."
That night I found myself thinking about someone I have severely missed. The next morning I typed her name into the search box and with baited breath awaited the results. Three people into the list, I found her. Again, I was promptly met with a welcomed reunion.
CG and I chatted for well over 3 hours last night. She is as absolutely gorgeous and amazing as I remember. It's as though that 17 year old girl has been frozen in time only having gained the experience and maturity that time often brings. CG and I voraciously filled the wide gap between then and now. I even went so far as to confess that she had never left my thoughts and that I had a true and heartfelt love for her. The feelings were mutual as it turns out. At 1am I went to bed with the warm satisfaction of feeling full. I giddily pined to the Other Half until we drifted off.
I'm sure at this point opinions have been formed and questions are eating their way to the surface. This would be similar to the reactions I frequently get when I share that I am in regular contact with X. I realize some people have no desire to reconnect with the past, be it positive or negative. Others may feel reintroducing certain people into their present life could threaten what they have. I feel that's a lack of security in who they, or the people around them, are.
With each of these people, I have discovered a common theme: Despite what I have always believed, I too, was significant and memorable to them.
My experiences with each, some more significant than others, led me to where I am today. I value their places in my life and am grateful to have them back in this new form of friendship.
Quality:
Drifter. Drifter was a close friend throughout my school days, but we quickly lost touch after graduation. She was one of my 1st FB friends. After several emails and chat sessions, Drifter assertively committed me to dinner and drinks. Monday night was spent catching up over potent $2 margaritas. It was fantastic. We discovered who we truly were to one another 15 plus years ago.
First. First is exactly that: my first sexual partner. I was hesitant and fearful to contact him, but the noncommittal nature of an email won out in the end. Overnight, I was enthusiastically accepted back into his life. Again, emails and chats have quelled my curiosity. I have found him to be happy, healthy and exactly who I've held in my memory.
Out. A rabid social networker who pounced on me on MySpace and again on FB. Out was a high school acquaintance. Shy, quiet, there, but insignificant to most. My one solid memory of him is the day he boldly approached me in class and blurted, "You have beautiful eyes." My esteemless teenage girl never forgot that. Out came out to me two nights ago. Maybe this was an inappropriate response, but I quickly typed: "I know you are hon."
That night I found myself thinking about someone I have severely missed. The next morning I typed her name into the search box and with baited breath awaited the results. Three people into the list, I found her. Again, I was promptly met with a welcomed reunion.
CG and I chatted for well over 3 hours last night. She is as absolutely gorgeous and amazing as I remember. It's as though that 17 year old girl has been frozen in time only having gained the experience and maturity that time often brings. CG and I voraciously filled the wide gap between then and now. I even went so far as to confess that she had never left my thoughts and that I had a true and heartfelt love for her. The feelings were mutual as it turns out. At 1am I went to bed with the warm satisfaction of feeling full. I giddily pined to the Other Half until we drifted off.
I'm sure at this point opinions have been formed and questions are eating their way to the surface. This would be similar to the reactions I frequently get when I share that I am in regular contact with X. I realize some people have no desire to reconnect with the past, be it positive or negative. Others may feel reintroducing certain people into their present life could threaten what they have. I feel that's a lack of security in who they, or the people around them, are.
With each of these people, I have discovered a common theme: Despite what I have always believed, I too, was significant and memorable to them.
My experiences with each, some more significant than others, led me to where I am today. I value their places in my life and am grateful to have them back in this new form of friendship.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Stronger
I did not shower or dress until well after 3:30pm today, due largely in part to physical pain and emotional distress.
Saturday kicked off the beginning of a week long vacation and my original plans to be with friends fell through due to children inflicted with various illnesses. I did however, attend fat class: down another pound. I also decided to take advantage of the balmy 40+ weather and geared up to head out on my first attempt at running outside.
Why, why, why can't pavement be as springy as my beloved treadmill? I quickly discovered that I could only run in spurts. I was unable to pace myself or regulate my breathing in the cold February air. Not to mention the fact that, as I ran, my pants crept dangerously further and further down my ass. Two miles in I began to feel the overwhelming urge to sit in a snowbank and cry.
I've known all along that outside runs would be vastly different, however, the reality was still a harsh one. I made it the 3.5 miles to the village store and called the Other Half for a ride home. I was able to do all of this in under 45 minutes, but still felt the sting of defeat.
Today I awoke with sore ribs and hips, aching tibialis anterior muscles and a shitty attitude. I stayed in my PJs, chatting with a long lost "friend" on Facebook and probably ate way too much. The guilt I'm feeling says I ate too much anyway.
Weather permitting I will be back out there tomorrow. My day of wallowing in self pity is over in 10 minutes and then it's time to get over it. I know that was only my first attempt and it will only get better from there. Plus, I bought smaller running pants yesterday. Like Kanye says: 'N-n-now that that don't kill me can only make me stronger." He also says "Well I'd do anything for a blonde dyke," but that's a confessional post for a later date.
Saturday kicked off the beginning of a week long vacation and my original plans to be with friends fell through due to children inflicted with various illnesses. I did however, attend fat class: down another pound. I also decided to take advantage of the balmy 40+ weather and geared up to head out on my first attempt at running outside.
Why, why, why can't pavement be as springy as my beloved treadmill? I quickly discovered that I could only run in spurts. I was unable to pace myself or regulate my breathing in the cold February air. Not to mention the fact that, as I ran, my pants crept dangerously further and further down my ass. Two miles in I began to feel the overwhelming urge to sit in a snowbank and cry.
I've known all along that outside runs would be vastly different, however, the reality was still a harsh one. I made it the 3.5 miles to the village store and called the Other Half for a ride home. I was able to do all of this in under 45 minutes, but still felt the sting of defeat.
Today I awoke with sore ribs and hips, aching tibialis anterior muscles and a shitty attitude. I stayed in my PJs, chatting with a long lost "friend" on Facebook and probably ate way too much. The guilt I'm feeling says I ate too much anyway.
Weather permitting I will be back out there tomorrow. My day of wallowing in self pity is over in 10 minutes and then it's time to get over it. I know that was only my first attempt and it will only get better from there. Plus, I bought smaller running pants yesterday. Like Kanye says: 'N-n-now that that don't kill me can only make me stronger." He also says "Well I'd do anything for a blonde dyke," but that's a confessional post for a later date.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Time To Move On
If it hasn't become blatantly obvious to you by now that I'm a bit of a music junkie, I'll spell it out for you here. Each of my posts has been lovingly assigned a song title. Every hour, every day at any given moment, there is a song running through my head. Situations, passing comments you name it, there's a song out there to sum up whats going on around me. It's similar to Will Ferrell's narrator in Stranger Than Fiction, only I have a running soundtrack.
I've been hearing my long time friend Tom Petty for the past few weeks:
I've been hearing my long time friend Tom Petty for the past few weeks:
"It's time to move on, it's time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It's time to move on, time to get going"
I've felt like I've been mired down in the muck for too long. Everything is whirling on around me while I stay static. People come and go, some stay at rest a moment and move on while others hold steady. I'm feeling the itch to move forward in some way. Change requires support and encouragement. It doesn't always come from where you would expect, so you have to reach out to unexpected people and places.
Today confirmed that I'm successfully moving on. For starters, I've officially lost 50.4lbs, bringing my weight down to 194.4lbs. For well over a month now I have been running a solid 3.1 miles, sandwiched within a mile of warm up and cool down. I started this in preparation for the 5k run that I secretly signed up for. I've forgotten the exact statistic, but I was recently told that a person is significantly more likely to accomplish something if they tell people their intentions. Here's hoping that's true.
I've also submitted the paperwork to begin co-coaching a national after school program for girls ages 8 to 14. The program focuses on building self-respect and physical fitness through running. At the end of the 12 week session, groups from local areas gather for a 5k run/walk.
I've also submitted the paperwork to begin co-coaching a national after school program for girls ages 8 to 14. The program focuses on building self-respect and physical fitness through running. At the end of the 12 week session, groups from local areas gather for a 5k run/walk.
Financially, the other half and I have put ourselves on a strict budget in order to work our way above ground. It's time to get serious about moving forward.
Last. Despite my resentment and animosity toward douche bag, I'm going to push forward in my goal to have a better working relationship. As much as I love the idea of not having to deal with him throughout the summer, I don't feel like that would be the answer. I openly admit to my faults and the need to improve; he too needs to be a better person. The only way I see that happening is by working with him, not against. Ugh, fucking A, I hate being rational. *This doesn't mean I have to like him.
"Broken skyline, which way to love land
Which way to something better
Which way to forgiveness
Which way do I go"
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