So, as I stated in both my profile and my first blog post, I like to run. Actually, I'd like to call it more of a love/hate relationship. I love when I FINISH running and sometimes I love running WHILE I'm running...but generally, the first 5-10 minutes of my run I'm about ::this close:: to turning around and getting back on the couch (and sometimes it's the entire run where I'm near tears because all I want to do is do nothing). And don't even get me started about the inner struggle that happens in my head before I even open the front door to step outside, let alone the thoughts I have when I go to my room to put on my running clothes "Well, I mean...I DO need to cook dinner...and Anna HAS been outside all day, so it's not like she hasn't gotten any exercise stalking squirrels...and I was playing with kids and standing all day so that HAS to count for SOMETHING, right?!".... It's a constant battle.
I don't know exactly what inspired me to start running. I was never an athletic kid. I was the 8 year old, in the outfield, picking weeds and digging her cleat into the ground. Let me be honest, I hold on to things. If someone insults me, I'll remember the words until the day I die. Which leads me to a traumatic experience I had one fateful afternoon, when I was walking/running over to the neighbor's house for whatever reason. Y'all, this is really embarrassing...but I feel like I should share and then you'll know that I harbor memories from something that happened nearly 20 years ago. When I was a kid, I never thought of myself as fat. Not once. Until that day. A car drove by, someone had the gall to roll down their window, and say to me, "Run fattie, run". I can laugh about it now, because seriously, how messed up is it to yell that to a kid? And seriously, the person who did that probably weighs 400 lbs now and can't walk 1 mile without getting winded...but that incident stuck with me. And when I'm pounding the pavement and a car drives by, I think to myself, "Do they think I'm fat? Is someone going to roll down the window and call me a name because I'm not skinny?". I know it's ridiculous and I know I should let things go, but some things just stay with you. And that certainly has. Ever since that day, I've been very conscious of my weight. I've never done anything extreme....if you don't count going on the Slim Fast diet my senior year of high school. Now I know that even when I watch what I eat, exercise the right way, I'll never be "skinny". Dudes, I've got thick legs. I should have played soccer. My arms aren't and will never be twigs. My stomach will never be a six pack. And that's TOTALLY ok. All those chicks with high metabolisms and tiny waists probably have no idea how lucky they are. It seriously takes an act of God for me to be a size 6 and even then I'm just barely squeezing into those jeans. And for the record, I still have those jeans...that I was able to wear once. Maybe twice. Then I had one bad day of pizza and cake and they never fit again. But I'm holding on to those jeans, in case I get a random case of mono and can't eat for 2 months :::crosses fingers for mono::: j/k I've really tried to learn to be happy in the skin that I'm in, but it's hard as an American woman now a days, with super models and their stick figures walking the cat walk. I know I have to accept my figure, but I'm not exactly happy with it at the moment...and that affects my love life with the HH. When I'm working out, I'm more confident, I feel better about myself, and I'm just a much happier person...so I've been trying to get back in the groove of things this past week...
So on to running. When I was a senior in high school, I could not run a lap around the track. For real. It was sad. I went off to college, gained the freshman 15 and when my jeans didn't fit anymore I started working out. I was at the gym every single day. Elliptical machine, weights, and finally the treadmill. I would run 3 minutes and walk 3 minutes. It was a great workout and slowly but surely the weight started to come off and my clothes started to fit normally (even loosely)! What do you know? I was even able to to start running for longer periods of time and walking less. It made me feel really good to know that I was improving myself and doing something that before was practically impossible. Now when I run, I try to do something I've never done before. Maybe it's distance I'm trying to beat-maybe it's time....whatever the case, I'm in competition with myself. I'm also self conscious about cars driving by. I try to run so that they'll think I've been running for miles and miles and miles. Like on a race, seeing those people cheering you on, why would you want to WALK past them? How embarrassing? They kept me motivated to keep on trucking, even if I thought I was going to DIE. So anyway, I saw this book:
And then I lost my Nanny. One of the most important women in my life when I was 22. That was a hard thing for me (I'm talkin' really hard, yo. It's still hard). She was amazing. She was God fearing. She was faithful. She believed. She was loving. She was...my grandmother. And I miss her. A lot. Everyday. She went to church every Sunday and she was concerned about her family and their lack of church. She made me feel like I was the most beautiful girl the world. Like I was the most amazing person and she was the most amazing, most beautiful person to me. So after her death, I was a little hesitant to find God. Why would God take away this beautiful person from me? Why would He make her suffer for a year? Why wouldn't her cure her? Why? All these questions.
So then it came to me one day, and I haven't discussed this with many people...probably not even Steve. I need God. I've prayed when I felt like I needed to, for people who needed my prayers, for things I needed or wished for in my life and I wanted to do more than that. I want to have more of a relationship with Him than just, "Oh, hey, God-it's me. So my friend's going through this really hard time and then I really need this job..." It shouldn't be like that. So I'm starting this devotional. It's great because while I'm running I can think about a specific thing. Maybe it's just the story I read about God or maybe something I really need to think about as far as my spirituality. But I believe in God and I think it's time for me to give a little bit of myself to Him, instead of constantly expecting Him to work miracles in my life and not singing His praises. He's blessed me far beyond what I deserve....I'm so blessed and I want to make sure I continue to sing praises.
Anyway, this devotional keeps me accountable for my runs and it helps me think not only of Godly things and what His plans are for me and what I can do to spread the word about His glory. It helps me think about why I'm running in the first place. I'm not only running for my physical health, but my mental health. I can be pissy and mad and frustrated and I'll go for a pissy/mad run and by the end of it, I'm no longer pissy and mad-I'm happy. I feel refreshed, rejuvinated, and at peace.
Today I ran 5.1 miles and it was great! I only stopped once, for about 1 minute. The rest of the time I was enjoying every second. It was perfect weather. My dog (Anna) was running perfectly beside me. I had good music and good things to think about. I love runs like that.
So I started week 2 today and I'll start sharing that more often. It's pretty good. It's going to help me get ready for a Marathon I'm hoping to run in April. Anyway, I hope you weren't offended by this post and I certainly hope some of you can relate to the little kid in me who is still haunted by a stupid moron (who I hope got a flat tire a little further down the road). Ok, ok, not really...well...maybe.
No comments:
Post a Comment