Paramomal

Well, they do. But only partially.

I was going to take today OFF from running and give myself a little break since I haven’t had one since I started. Then one of the girls from work wanted to go running. She’s a girl I like, and trust me- if you spend the majority of your day surrounded by other women you can bet your hard-earned dollar that someone is going to get snippy. Usually that person is me but not always. And once I worked in a little room with no windows counting money all day, and there were only women there, and it was sometimes really horrible. But the point of the story is that I like her and didn’t want her to have to run alone.

Plus I am terrified that if I take one day off from running then the whole thing will go to hell in a pretty little hand-basket, full of fatty, greasy bacon and potato chips and chocolate. And I won’t even have time to write an apology note to my ever-widening ass because I’ll be too busy stuffing my face with sugar -coated pastries. So I push myself and push myself. I don’t want to be a fatty pants. I don’t want to be gasping for air when my son is trying to play. I don’t want to be this overcast to the body, the person, that once was me.

The problem is that when you push yourself bad things happen. Things like shin splints. They aren’t too awful if you chillax upon noticing them and taper yourself down a bit. Not me! I just push harder thinking that I will come oblivious to the pain. Thinking that my body will get used to this soon. Come to find out this is not the case with shin splints. It seems that continual “trauma” will only aggravate them and make the pain worse. It’s true.

This is why I came home bawling and my husband lifted me into my bed, married me off to an ice pack, and gave me a pain pill as a parting gift before leaving me on the bed alone while all the other people in this house were merrily doing whatever the hell they were doing.

Now my leg feels better but I am nauseous. Because that’s what pain pills do to me. They make me sick. They also make it really easy to type out more than 400 words and not even remember fully what I’ve said. But if feels kind of nice to just be saying what’s on my mind. At least I think it does. Maybe tomorrow I will come back to this post and be mortified. Tonight, however, I will be pressing ‘publish’. Joke’s on you, self! haha!

There are cars whizzing by to my left and right and everyone keeps honking at me. Yelling for me to get in a lane, for Christ’s sake! And I’m just walking down the yellow line hoping I don’t get run over. Yesterday I was really devastated about this. Yesterday I was yelling at myself to just get out of everyone’s way and pick a side. Pick a side and go with the flow.

I just can’t do it. I don’t know how. Somehow that’s okay now. I’ll just keep in the middle and let everyone get where they are going. We are all just trying to get somewhere, after all.

See, they say that you have to stand for something. They say you can’t just straddle the fence. And I wanted so badly to be one of those women I so admire, regardless of if I agree with them, who have a firm stance. It’s either this or that and no in between. There is something about that. But I’m not. I’m mild and unbiased. I’m open-minded and open-hearted. Some would probably say that this makes me spineless. It’s just, you know, that maybe it’s not always a good thing to be so focused on your own lane that you can’t see when something starts to cross the line. Or, if there is someone broken down on the other side. Something like that.