Slice of Life - Running

Every now and again I look at other people.  One thought that will often pop into my head is, if they feel comfortable wearing that, then why can't I?  Why can't I pull on a pair of shorts, go out the door, and hold my head up high?  

In order to do something about it and to stop dishonoring my body, I am using Calorie Counter on my iPad (for the most part) and strive between 1200 and 1600 calories a day.  I am shooting for more protein.

Another task was hiring a personal trainer who has a passion for transformation.  Our first session had my bum hurting for two days to even sit down or move from any position.  

The second session occurred tonight.  I had asked what I should do for a workout on Monday knowing that Tuesday we'd be working together.  He suggested cardio...I wanted to make sure we weren't running Tuesday.  He said we were running...sort of.  Not good! 

Because he is training a friend of mine for a run, I knew that he loved to do hill sprints.  

I was scheduled to meet him at his house at 5:45, but got a text asking me to meet him at this hill that is popular in our little village.  Oh crap!

Who knew that trying to pick your feet up to just propel them forward was so hard?  Who knew that trying to sprint up a hill would make me feel like my legs were lead? bricks? giant blocks of cement? giant tree trunks?  Goodness gracious.  After we ran up the hills, you'd think coming down was just as easy.  Wrong!  I almost thought my jelly legs were going to cave under me as I went down the stairs.  Thankfully, no falls occurred during this workout.

When you thought it couldn't get worse running up, he decided we'd go up backwards.  My calves officially hate me.  My left and my right leg equally hate me because he also had me go up sideways shuffling.  

Then the sprints came.  Four of them.  The first three allowed me to only sprint a part of the hill at a time.  The final was a full out sprint for the whole hill.  Whether you could call it a sprint or not, I busted my bum to get up there.  

After he left for a family dinner, I stayed and lunged up the stairs and then ran the stairs three times.  I will get into those shorts and feel good.  Sleep will be good tonight!  

Time to Come Clean...

You won't judge, right? And even if you do, I guess I should ask if I really care what others think about me.

On with the story.

Dating is something that I don't know much about. The choices of men to date in my area are slim to none. In fact, I know that it will be completely God if I ever get married. The men that I do know are either too young, too old, or married. The bottom line is...not for me.

I did what any technological savvy amazing woman would do...online dating. I tried my hand at it a couple of years ago and it went well. I learned a lot. He just wasn't ready for a dating relationship.

The site I use had a sale, so I am trying again. I recently had had some communication with a gentleman and we began to e-mail, text, and finally agreed to meet. Yes, I told people where I would be and chose a public place and made sure I wasn't followed afterwards.

I had been so nervous before meeting him that I couldn't eat. I had the pleasure of having butterflies again. My face lit up when I got a text. I felt special again. And now it's over. But don't get me wrong...I'm not that upset about it. Why you ask?

My friend suggested I give him another chance (I tend to be quite picky on the first date). When I explained how our "date" had gone, she was quick to understand why I was okay with no future get togethers.

1. I looked hot (we met at a Barnes). Had the jeans on, a rockin' shirt, a great necklace, and make-up to boot. He came in sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

2. I had wanted a place where we (I mean me) could get coffee. He didn't buy me one. He didn't even offer!

3. His profile said he was shy and reserved...um, NO! He talked and talked and talked. Yes, I am a talker, but I also know how to draw people into conversation and connect to what they are saying. I do try and get to know others around me. I try to listen well. He talked so much, I began to zone out at times. He hardly asked me any questions. Granted, we had talked quite a bit on the phone so we had had most of the first date questions already. And by talk, I mean text, Come on man...make a phone call every now and again.

4. He took the easy way out. Since we parted ways (with a side hug - who does that?), he has yet to call, text, or e-mail. Way to be a man!

As for the positives, I am proud of myself. I was myself. I looked hot! And felt hot! In fact, I think I got a warmer smile from a guy working there than my "date" gave me. I'm not down about not dating. I'm thankful that I have what I have. My life isn't all that bad. And while I am sitting home alone on a Friday night (by choice), I'm so glad to have a night to just chill.

Fit not Fat

Over the past few days, my brain is working out some truth and lies. I watch The Hills (one of my reality shows I watch) and I listened to Heidi as she asked her mom if she looked good after undergoing ten or more plastic surgeries at once. It made my heart break! Even after "becoming Barbie" physically, she still has to look to others to see if physical appearance is good enough.

Tonight I was at the Y and while I popped into the women's locker room, I almost (almost) walked over to weigh myself. I chose not to. While I was trying to read through the magazine as I was huffing and puffing through another cardio session (I had run earlier with a co-worker at the school track). One of the girls that I know made the comment about how she wanted a bikini body like the ladies on the cover. I told her I just want to be fit.

The more I think about it, the bigger my desire is not to be skinny, but to be fit, to see the muscle definition, to know I can run, to be active, to fit in the clothes that I currently have, to feel powerful. I'm not a number from a scale. I'm not a number from my pants. I'm not the letter that's on my shirt. I'm Cathy. And I'm becoming comfortable in the skin that I have...

The choices that I make in my life physically and with food need to reflect the desire to be fit, not thin.