Challenges. Obstacles. We all have them and we all have ways of dealing with them. My way of dealing with them works great…I face them head on and repress how I feel. Don’t judge. Repression works for me. Except this one time….well let’s just say I repressed so much at the end of a horrible 14 year relationship that I finally cracked. Like felt like I needed a straight jacket cracked. I ended up taking myself off my migraine beta blockers and stayed in bed for three days straight curled up in a fetus position. Pretty sure I scared the poop out of the person I was trying to get out of the relationship with, enough so that my BFF came over and said to me “Get out of bed. Get in the shower. You stink.” I still think it was the meds that made me like that as I was totally fine after a shower and some valium. Better living through modern chemistry I say. Anyhooo….my point is that today was full of challenges for me but I faced them. The first challenge…my body. To say I was tired today was an understatement. I dragged my sorry excuse of a body out of bed for church and I swear then I played the “Touch and Go” game till I got whiplash. I felt sorry for the people behind me having to watch my bobbing head and super glad I didn’t snore or yell out “The sea monkey stole my money!” in the middle of the homily. How mortifying would that have been? I came home and the plan had been to try running after church but thought maybe I should lay down for an hour. Four hours later…..you see the challenge. So does the drool puddle on my couch. Damn that couch…it mocks me. Planning it’s evil comfortable ways to stop me from running. It says…”Just sit here for a minute. You need the rest. Here, let me put the remote in your hand”. It finds new ways to tempt me every day. Today I gave in to its evil plan (I can hear the couch and its evil villain laugh from in here). Apparently for four hours. But eventually, I did cut the vines that had grown around me and got up and went out for day four of the running experiment.
Here starts challenge number two. Remember how I said I had gotten up for church? Well, to most night shifters, we forget what day it is a lot of the time. I might have known it was Sunday (hence the going to church), but forgot what that means to my neighborhood. My normally quiet running environment was teeming with families outside, including a gaggle of teenagers in front of our neighborhood park. Gah. I knew I was in trouble the minute I stepped outside. I would have to deal with more people watching the fat girl trying to run. It was enough to make me want to turn around. But I did say I face challenges head on with repression, so I turned up the music louder and continued. Here’s the thing about neighbors. I know I have them. I know they live near me, but I am NOT a social person and try to have as limited interaction with my neighbors as possible. Why? Because I am shy and in general not one to strike up a conversation with a total stranger. Some people apparently have no problem approaching a total stranger minding her own business, getting her groove on and thus starts the episode that happened to me today.
Let me set the scene. I am already into the running portion of my workout, attempting to shake the tiredness from my bones, in my own little world. Thinking “Just get to the next driveway or that tree. This isn’t that bad. You can do it. Breathe. I wonder what I shall watch on tv tonight? Oh! Wait…concentrate on running “. I stopped to walk when all of a sudden I see out of the corner of my eye a nice older gentlemen waving at me to get my attention. Ugh. Seriously? You are interrupting Linkin Park for what? I quickly pulled the earbud out of my ear and this is what occurred next. Neighbor looking concerned and walking quickly to my side: “Are you ok?” Me looking confused: “Ummm…Yeah. Why?” Neighbor putting on an even more concerned face: “Well, you just look like maybe you were having trouble.” Me even more confused and pretty sure my face said it all with it’s WTF expression:”Nooo. I am fine but thanks.” Neighbor who now put his hand on my sweaty arm: “Maybe you should take it easy. You look like you are in trouble.” Me, backing away now from what I fear might be an ax murderer Ted Bundy type : “Thanks for your concern but really I am fine.” I then ran from him, probably faster than I normally do, all the while looking for his fat girl I wanna make suit out of your skin Silence of the Lambs van. And then it hit me. He wasn’t wanting to kidnap me, put me in a hole in the ground and yell at me about putting the lotion in the basket. He was concerned because I am fat AND Irish. Now I know you are scratching your head and saying what does that have to do with anything? Well, if you were Irish you would know. I have fair Irish skin and have a condition called Rosacea. This means, when I work out my face turns red. And I don’t mean a little…I mean RED. And it stays that way for a long while after I work out. Running makes it worse. Usually it is contained to just my cheeks. It’s not just my cheeks when I run, but my entire face. So here is this nice well-meaning neighbor who sees in his mind a fat girl running who is struggling to breathe (asthmatic remember) and is extremely red in the face. He thought that the poor little fat girl was having a heart attack. Wow. Talk about mortifying (pretty sure that beats yelling out something totally bizarre during church). Unfortunately, this is a challenge I cannot overcome. So if you are a kind, well-meaning neighbor, unless I drop down in front of you, please don’t comment on my red face. Just call me fat red-faced girl running. I still think I will be on the look out for strange moths in my neighborhood and poodles called Precious just be on the safe side.
Oh yeah…I didn’t die again today. The experiment continues….