27 March 2006

I'd Take a Hit Out on Her

If I had a friend that treated me the way I treat myself, I'd hate her.

If I had a person in my life that said things like: "Your hair looks awful!" "Oh my God! Is that another wrinkle?" "Nice black smears under your eyes." "Nice ass, bubble-butt" "Wow, I didn't know that stretch marks looked worse over time" I think I would have to re-evaluate why they were in my life. 

If I had a friend in my life that equated my self-worth to the laundry pile, I probably wouldn't have them as a friend very long.

If this person in my life questioned every single decision I made as a parent, I'd hope that after a bit of time I'd be able to tell them thanks, I already make those questions 100 times a day.

If I had a friend that repeatedly told me that I could be thinner, prettier, nicer, a better mom, a better person, a better anything if I just wasn't like I am, I'd throw myself at her, begging her mercy, asking her to please, just love me! 

So here goes:


25 March 2006


The first weekend of June, I'm running a 5K. "Running" might be pushing it. 

I am going to start at a line, and I am going to cross a finish line, hell or high water....and believe me, it might be both. My cousin and soul sister, "B" invited me to run in this race with her in January. (Isn't it funny how, in January, so many things are possible? How everything you've wanted to be seems so within reach?) 

So, of course, I said, "SIGN ME UP!" And she replied: "You have to sign yourself up." I should have had pause at that point. Instead, I put it on my calendar and committed myself to it. Then I plugged in the treadmill and it's been an uphill journey since, no matter what the incline on the treadmill says.

I'm pretty emotional about doing this. I tell people I'm running it, and they say, "Great", or "How far is 5K"? Saying it's a little over three miles doesn't do it justice, so I'm going to give you my list of how far a 5K is and why every time I think about running it, my voice cracks and my eyes start to tear up. It's really not because I have perma-PMS, it's because this is how far 5K is:

  • It's 332 days of caring for Little A, without help from the person that I least expected to not be there.
  • So far, it's been 62 days of getting on a treadmill and getting OFF the couch
  • It's been 27 days that I haven't laced up my shoes and I've hated myself for it
  • It's probably been a hundred times that I've eaten broccoli instead of oreos and probably thirty that I didn't.
  • It's been hundreds of middle of the night phone calls that I didn't make, wanting to sob, "I CANNOT DO THIS! I CANNOT BE ALONE ONE MORE MINUTE! I DIDN'T WANT THIS!"
  • It's been two that I did
  • It's been a million times of thanking God for the gifts that I have....
  • ....and a hundred times that asking Him to watch out for us
  • It's keeping a promise to myself, finally, allowing myself to know that it's OK to have something for me, just for me, and understand that doesn't make me less of a parent or less of a person
  • It's been seeing Little A rescesitated twice, each time thinking, "This isn't happening..this isn't me..this isn't my life..this isn't happening..."
  • It's been realizing that it IS happening, and coming out of it not stronger, wiser
  • It's thanking God for the friends that said, "I'll run it with you" and the friends that said, "I don't know why you're doing this, but I'll come and watch"
  • It's finally realizing that the finish line is an illusion....and there really isn't any training, there's just the daily doing or the not doing....it's been a race all along; I just finally decided to lace up my shoes.