Thursday, September 29, 2011
This morning while I was running, I crossed paths with a fellow who was walking. His sides were heaving & he was sweaty & he had the typical runner's build. And he gave me the international sign for this-is-my-cool-down-walk-I-swear-I-was-hauling-hiney-a-second-ago: arms lifted up & wrapped around his head. It was awesome. Even before he flashed gang signs, I knew he had been running, but he wanted to make sure that I knew because I was currently running...me. He wanted respect from ME. This is a crazy, mixed-up, turn of events. Or is it?
I have become comfortable with myself as someone who has largely conquered the food beast. Oh, I still slip up to be sure (Exhibit A: the extra frosting in my fridge that I have not left alone this week), but as general rule I believe to my core that I am in control of what I eat & when I eat & I have the knowledge & tools to make the best choices possible in any given scenario. What more can I ask for?
However, I certainly have NOT come to grips with myself as someone who is athletic...let alone an athlete. Geesh. The very thought of that word sends me straight back to high school. Picture it: band uniform, braces, 90's glasses, overweight, under-encouraged. I didn't play a single sport...ever, not even T-ball. I was the kid who mysteriously developed whooping cough whenever it came time to do Presidential Fitness tests. My only sports-related glory as a child was winning first place in the Third Grade Track & Field Day...wait for it...Shoe Kick. I still have the ribbon. So sad.
When people ask me about running or working out, nine times out of ten I'll make some sort of joke or dismissive comment & gosh durn it, that isn't fair. It isn't fair to the person I'm talking to, it isn't fair to my husband who has sacrificed so much to let me have all of the time & resources I need to exercise, it isn't fair to my son who clearly idolizes BOTH of his parents as "racers," & it most definitely isn't fair to me. It's not that I'm not "there" physically, it's that my head hasn't caught up with this new stage of me. *sigh* More mental work to do, which goes to show that this whole process is so much more about what's in my head than what's in my mouth--or what I'm doing with my feet.