Well, it's been a year since I last wrote on this blog. Thanks, blogspot, for hosting me.
A lot has happened since I last wrote. We moved into our first purchased house, my brother-in-law tragically passed away and his first born baby arrived in January. It's a little odd summing up so many emotional moments into one sentence. It's as if I'm glibly compartmentalizing my life. Truth be told, I'm emotionally exhausted. I can't possibly imagine what my sister is feeling. It's pretty surreal when you apply the labels to my once independent, head-strong, happy sister; widow/single mom. A lot to choke down at the ripe age of 29.
But, she's doing her best to look positively toward the future. After all, she has a brand new baby girl to take care of (that looks freakishly like her father - imho), a house to take care of and a job to get back to. She's also making strides to get her body back in shape after her pregnancy wreaked havoc on her.
Here's what I'm getting to. My sister has her mind set on running a half marathon this summer. Half marathon! That's 13.something miles. And, as part of her 'big plan' she expects me to sign-on as her sidekick.
As a plus-size veteran of 17 years, I have proclaimed my disdain for running in many ways. One of which is reaching my veteran status. I have stated many times that I only 'run for my life' when faced with danger. If you saw me today, you'd know that my life is devoid of danger and I have the figure to prove it. Thank goodness for the safety of a small town. I will say though, sometimes the Costco parking lot is pretty crazy and I have to dodge the occasional mom in a minivan whose life is equally un-dangerous.
But the term 'run for my life' got me to thinking that maybe I should approach this summertime goal of running a half marathon with some positivity. There's no pride in living a safe, plus-sized life. In fact, I have spent most of the last 17 years NOT living because of my weight. I don't ride rides at the amusement park, I don't play outside, I don't do a lot of things that require sweat or activity. I spend a lot of energy trying to blend-in. Trying to make the rest of the world not notice me. Mapping out a route through the tables at a restaurant so I can take my kids to the bathroom 7 times without disgustingly squeezing myself between the chairs of back to back patrons. Besides, who wants a fat chick's stomach smooshed-up against your back? Not me! When I am noticed, I do my best to show-off my personality. Maybe if I'm funny, they won't notice that I'm fat. One can only send their brain reeling, surmising what someone may say when the funny fat girl is out of earshot. That takes a lot of energy and I usually end up exhausted at the end of the day, laying on the couch feeling disgusted with myself.
So, maybe I should spend the next few months running for my life. There's a good chance I'll actually be running from an early death, running toward a pair of size 14 jeans, running with my kids outside, running along side my sister and eventually committing to running at least part of that half marathon this summer.
Goals are good. So is living.
