I had a great week this past week. As far as my fitness goes, I ran 12 miles on my treadmill. I always want to run more and run outside, but the treadmill is like spoon feeding exercise. It’s just so easy! I can push myself ridiculously hard because I KNOW I can step off at anytime. And, no, Monica and Chandler have not distracted me to the point of danger again! LOL! My diet didn’t suffer either, but it didn’t go perfectly either. I had my high and low moments, but mostly I know I did fine. Some weeks you lose and some weeks you don’t. Regardless, I’m having non-scale victories left and right as I keep finding clothes that fit for the first time as well as clothes that are clearly way too big for me now. It’s funny because I thought the things I have now, while baggy, would have fit me for quite some time yet. But when I put them on, the shoulders hang way off and the bottom of the shirt hems hang all catty-wampus on me and look stupid, so I take them off and hurl them onto my top shelf in a fit of irritation. Old Navy was kind enough to send a new 30% off coupon out however, so I’m saved! New clothes are on their way! Though I’m not losing pounds, clearly the exercise is doing something because my body is definitely changing!
We bought our vegetable garden this weekend. I bought seeds a while ago and, with all the mild, sixties and early-seventies warm days we’ve been having, we decided to risk it and get the garden going! I can’t wait to pick our lettuce again this spring and summer! There’s something so satisfying about growing your own food!
I have a few cousins who are in the midst of seeing their ways out of depression. One just had a great loss of a family member after experiencing another traumatic painful loss in the recent past, and the other has just had a life of ups and downs resulting in depression. I’ve known people my whole life who fight the depression beast and I think it’s so interesting that we all keep those feelings buttoned down and private. We see ourselves as weak because life is hard often and, since ‘hard‘ is relative, we don’t feel like we can share those thoughts without burdening others, taking from others, acting like our lot is more difficult than others and appearing like we can’t keep it together, so we hide it away.
One of my cousins started an amazing blog to keep track of her thinking as she tries to untangle the snarl of feelings and thoughts that swirl and knot in her head. I’m not sharing it with a link here because it’s spanking new and she’s still unsure of how much she wants to say publicly, but I’m impressed with her courage to stand on the mountaintop and share her story, wave her freak flag, so to speak. That’s a hard thing to do, let everyone see your dark parts. I kind of do that here since the weightloss need is a result of a lifetime of eating my feelings and turning to food for security. To break that cycle I had to confront those triggers and it’s endless work.
My other cousin has started an art journal and posts things all the time on her Instagram from it. I’ve been impressed with her courage and willingness to artfully share her dark thoughts and, in her own way, share that she’s hurting. Being vulnerable and expressive like that is also hard.
I started an art journal this year as well. My goal has been to rediscover the artistic side of me. I used to be amazing and have lost a lot of my skills just because I’ve been out of practice, so I started my journal as a risk-free place, reminiscent of Bob Ross and his happy little trees. I’ve been amazed as I’m watching myself fall in love with hand lettering, some basic design and journaling. I’m using Pinterest as inspiration, but I’m already starting to step away from that and am doing my own thing. It has been tremendously empowering!
Do you watch the show Parenthood ever? While I try not to be a big TV watcher*, when I get into something, I seriously get into it. Parenthood was really something, though. As the show wound down, they dealt with the very real truth that we all have to face at some point: losing our parents, getting older and assuming the mantle of the real grown-up. The elder. The one in charge.
I’m grateful to say that, at least as far as I know, Bradley and I aren’t at the point of taking a baton yet and assuming any elder role, thankyouverymuch, but there came a reflective point at the end of the show where the patriarch, Zeke, stood back and looked with pride at his collected brood, his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, and commented to his wife, “Boy, we sure did good, didn’t we?” To which Camille responded, “We sure did.”
That moment was tremendous. Suddenly, I can’t wait to see the stories, to watch them grow up, to see my own babies find their happy places and the people they love, the children they will bring into our world- for the first time in ever, I’m finally ok with getting older, with my kids getting older, because I’m so stinking excited to find out how their stories play out, and I’m willing to be old, willing to have more life behind me than in front of me, to see it.
And thank goodness. I don’t have a choice, so to fear of this very issue has been crushingly overwhelming for years, and finally, I’m willing to pay the price of my life to see how it plays out.
My favorite quote from Tyler Knott Gregson:
“Time truly flies, and if you’re lucky, you can fly right along with it.”
With health, hopefully I temper the luck and get to fly for some time yet.
*If I’m perfectly honest, I’m actually a ridiculously addicted TV watcher who has realized that it can completely take over my life, so we just pay for a few streaming sites and stick with a few, focused shows that I usually watch in binges during illnesses or long weekends where I literally make a goal to complete a series. My faves? Parenthood was one, the Office is another I adore. I loved Girls and Flight of the Conchords, as well as Important Things with Demetri Martin and Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee with Seinfeld. Or what about the best: Freaks and Geeks? Louie? Six Feet Under? The Mindy Project! Gilmore Girls, Buffy and Friends, of course, then American Horror Story and Dexter for the 13 year old horror lover in me and Californication for when I want to feel confused about feminism, misogyny and men (because David Duchovny plays an incredibly lovable scoundrel!). Did I just go on and on there about TV? Oh my.
Cleanse the palate: