Sunday, September 28, 2008
Something must go wrong, cause its way too right
Despite the incessant rain this weekend, I've managed to stay outrageously busy.
Yesterday morning- I ran 5 miles. In Central Park- which means- NOT on a treadmill. Now, to runners this probably doesn't seem like much of a feat. But to me- this is amazing. This is the farthest I have ever run in my entire life. And to have done it outside, which is considerably more difficult than treadmill running, makes my accomplishment THAT much sweeter. Especially because I ran during the short span of time that it had stopped raining, and I was forced to exert twice the normal amount of effort dodging the puddles around The Reservoir. On the subway, on the way home, I found myself getting a little emotional (I'm also PMSing) about how far I've come in the last year.
I'm probably not going to make my 50 lb goal by the end of the year, special thanks goes out to that totally kick-ass pulmonary embolism, and subsequent ban on working out and 2 month long plateau as a result, for that. But I'm gonna be close. Which means that I will weigh a number that I haven't weighed since I was in HIGH SCHOOL. About 12 years ago.
I was at brunch yesterday morning with someone who is in a pretty dark place. I listened to her talk about her life and all the changes she wants to make. I feel bad. I feel bad that she is so unhappy. I feel bad about being so spectacularly happy myself. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to make it better. I can't make someone else want to find happiness from within. I can't force someone else to understand that happiness doesn't come from another person or from a relationship. I've been there. I've felt this way. I've waited for someone else to come along and make all the bad stuff go away. A person doesn't move past this way of thinking until they are ready. She isn't ready.
This morning, I stood in the mirror admiring my newly prominent collar bones. The incredible shrinking waist. I think about the conversation that I had with my therapist about my self-image. She asked how I see myself, even after a 35 lb weight loss, my answer was, "fat". And wonder when, or if, I will ever be able to start seeing myself differently. Will I ever be comfortable flirting with boys in a bar, not wondering if they're hoping the fat girl will stop talking to them?
Here's hoping.
Today's Title from: Stop this World by Ne-Yo
Yesterday morning- I ran 5 miles. In Central Park- which means- NOT on a treadmill. Now, to runners this probably doesn't seem like much of a feat. But to me- this is amazing. This is the farthest I have ever run in my entire life. And to have done it outside, which is considerably more difficult than treadmill running, makes my accomplishment THAT much sweeter. Especially because I ran during the short span of time that it had stopped raining, and I was forced to exert twice the normal amount of effort dodging the puddles around The Reservoir. On the subway, on the way home, I found myself getting a little emotional (I'm also PMSing) about how far I've come in the last year.
I'm probably not going to make my 50 lb goal by the end of the year, special thanks goes out to that totally kick-ass pulmonary embolism, and subsequent ban on working out and 2 month long plateau as a result, for that. But I'm gonna be close. Which means that I will weigh a number that I haven't weighed since I was in HIGH SCHOOL. About 12 years ago.
I was at brunch yesterday morning with someone who is in a pretty dark place. I listened to her talk about her life and all the changes she wants to make. I feel bad. I feel bad that she is so unhappy. I feel bad about being so spectacularly happy myself. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to make it better. I can't make someone else want to find happiness from within. I can't force someone else to understand that happiness doesn't come from another person or from a relationship. I've been there. I've felt this way. I've waited for someone else to come along and make all the bad stuff go away. A person doesn't move past this way of thinking until they are ready. She isn't ready.
This morning, I stood in the mirror admiring my newly prominent collar bones. The incredible shrinking waist. I think about the conversation that I had with my therapist about my self-image. She asked how I see myself, even after a 35 lb weight loss, my answer was, "fat". And wonder when, or if, I will ever be able to start seeing myself differently. Will I ever be comfortable flirting with boys in a bar, not wondering if they're hoping the fat girl will stop talking to them?
Here's hoping.
Today's Title from: Stop this World by Ne-Yo
Labels: running
Posted by Chloe
at 11:25 AM |
Permalink to Something must go wrong, cause its way too right |
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