Went running
I went for a run. Yes, sounds kind of funny coming from me, doesn't it? Don't think I have ever seriously said that. Know what, I went for a run. Ok, a walk with lots of spurts of a pace that may have been running, yet I think it counts as "a run." How's that! Ok, so I got 3.1 miles in a little over 54 minutes which I am still on the fence as far as calling it acceptable or not. If I figure in some of the factors - half the route was a steady incline, I had a nasty headache, it was really cold - then I guess not breaking 52 is ok. An hour and a half later I take a deep breath and remember, oh find the good in this....the good....I RAN! I have done my little spurts on the treadmill, yet never out on the road yet. [Beats on chest - I AM OF WORTH!]
March 8th is my first run for the season. The Earth, Wind, and Fire 5k run on campus. I did this back in 2011 with Jordan. There is also a 2.5k (a little over 1.5 mile) walk and that is what we did back then. It took me 45 minutes to walk the 2.5k and I was the last to cross the line. Matter of fact, they may have been starting to hand out awards when we finally hit the finish line, yet I finished. Therefore, I should not be giving myself grief on going twice as far in just under 10 minutes more.
I have a lot of thoughts when I look at this photo. Considering I am sitting here in the same grey hoodie (I sleep in it now), I understand now why it is so big on me. Wow, I have lost a little bit of weight. I was thinking the other day that there are people in my life now that never knew me as the bigger person. I'm not sure what to make of that, if anything. For me, my life has this big divider, pre-surgery and post-surgery Blewy. My life before and my life after. It is kind of odd to think that there are people who only know me post-surgery. I guess there are still people who haven't seen me for a long time that I would still be in the pre-surgery category with. It's just odd. That is about the only word I can come up with most of the time....odd.
I'm the same person, just a smaller version. I'm just as funny and kind hearted as I always was. I would still give the shirt off my back to anyone who needed it, except you can't fit multiple people in it - it's a total 1:1 ratio now. I give much better hugs now because I can get my arms around people better. I remember a while back a friend gave me a hug - the first since I had lost all my weight. She exclaimed, "Oh my heck! I can get my arms around you!!!" So, I guess my weight loss means people can give me better hugs too! Still pretty firm on my "hugs make the world a better place" stance.
People say that I have changed. They say I am happier, that I look like I enjoy life more. They tell me I smile more and laugh more. Well, this could make sense, considering that I can actually breathe when I move, it does leave room for smiling and laughing. They talk about how I don't talk down about myself like I used to. I am not sure if that is from the weight loss, the things I am learning in class, or a mix of both. I would guess the latter.
I actually got to thinking the other day, I don't put myself down like I used to. Oh, I did it well. Humor hides pain, and I had a lot of pain. I wasn't happy with myself on a lot of levels and really had no clue how to fix that, so to deal with a lot of it, I joked. I made a lot of mean and cruel comments - all pointed at myself. I would laugh, everyone else laughed, the world went on. If I try to figure it out, I guess it was kind of a defense mechanism. If I made fun of myself first, then that either took the option off the table for others, or made it a little harder for them. Tell myself I am worthless, then if someone else tells me, it is not that bad because I have already come to the conclusion. Plus, I really did not like myself, so it was pretty easy to do. Wow, that is kind of sad, really sad. No wonder everyone seems happy that I don't do that anymore.
When I say "life is different" it really is, on so many levels. In just under two years, my whole world has changed. Apparently, I really am a survivor. I was at a doc appt the other day and was sharing about myself, my past, etc. and she just looked at me and said, "I'm impressed you do as well as you have." This is not the first medical professional that has said something similar like this to me. I actually used to hear it on a regular basis for a while.
I was never quite sure how to take it. I think it is a complement, yet then again, it's a little sad that this is the complement that I receive. I just find myself often going, "um, thank you" and often wonder just how I would be if I was not doing so great. What's the comparison? Not sure I want to know.
We did get to laughing about it though. We came to the conclusion that I was a "scrapper" and I liked that term. Yah, Blewy the scrapper! Don't tell me I can't do something, I will show you. Yup, red-headed and stubborn, and proud of it. She told me that this was probably the attitude that has kept me going for all these years.
And so another day is about to be retired. The longer I sit here, post-hot shower, the more I wonder if I am going to be able to get up and walk to bed. I may have only gotten 54 minutes, yet I worked for every one of them.
Yes, I did. 'Cause I'm a scrapper!
I have a lot of thoughts when I look at this photo. Considering I am sitting here in the same grey hoodie (I sleep in it now), I understand now why it is so big on me. Wow, I have lost a little bit of weight. I was thinking the other day that there are people in my life now that never knew me as the bigger person. I'm not sure what to make of that, if anything. For me, my life has this big divider, pre-surgery and post-surgery Blewy. My life before and my life after. It is kind of odd to think that there are people who only know me post-surgery. I guess there are still people who haven't seen me for a long time that I would still be in the pre-surgery category with. It's just odd. That is about the only word I can come up with most of the time....odd.
I'm the same person, just a smaller version. I'm just as funny and kind hearted as I always was. I would still give the shirt off my back to anyone who needed it, except you can't fit multiple people in it - it's a total 1:1 ratio now. I give much better hugs now because I can get my arms around people better. I remember a while back a friend gave me a hug - the first since I had lost all my weight. She exclaimed, "Oh my heck! I can get my arms around you!!!" So, I guess my weight loss means people can give me better hugs too! Still pretty firm on my "hugs make the world a better place" stance.
People say that I have changed. They say I am happier, that I look like I enjoy life more. They tell me I smile more and laugh more. Well, this could make sense, considering that I can actually breathe when I move, it does leave room for smiling and laughing. They talk about how I don't talk down about myself like I used to. I am not sure if that is from the weight loss, the things I am learning in class, or a mix of both. I would guess the latter.
I actually got to thinking the other day, I don't put myself down like I used to. Oh, I did it well. Humor hides pain, and I had a lot of pain. I wasn't happy with myself on a lot of levels and really had no clue how to fix that, so to deal with a lot of it, I joked. I made a lot of mean and cruel comments - all pointed at myself. I would laugh, everyone else laughed, the world went on. If I try to figure it out, I guess it was kind of a defense mechanism. If I made fun of myself first, then that either took the option off the table for others, or made it a little harder for them. Tell myself I am worthless, then if someone else tells me, it is not that bad because I have already come to the conclusion. Plus, I really did not like myself, so it was pretty easy to do. Wow, that is kind of sad, really sad. No wonder everyone seems happy that I don't do that anymore.
I was never quite sure how to take it. I think it is a complement, yet then again, it's a little sad that this is the complement that I receive. I just find myself often going, "um, thank you" and often wonder just how I would be if I was not doing so great. What's the comparison? Not sure I want to know.
We did get to laughing about it though. We came to the conclusion that I was a "scrapper" and I liked that term. Yah, Blewy the scrapper! Don't tell me I can't do something, I will show you. Yup, red-headed and stubborn, and proud of it. She told me that this was probably the attitude that has kept me going for all these years.
And so another day is about to be retired. The longer I sit here, post-hot shower, the more I wonder if I am going to be able to get up and walk to bed. I may have only gotten 54 minutes, yet I worked for every one of them.
Yes, I did. 'Cause I'm a scrapper!