Sideline Cheerleader!

Last year I started running to run for myself. I will not lie to you, my dear friends; my Garmin said that I did a lot more than I did. If I ran 4 miles, it would show 5. And I was comfortable in that lie- it made me feel like I was getting somewhere without putting in the effort. I had a tiny medical thing come up in the scheme of life, but it felt significant. It felt like the world was crashing down on me. And then the doctor said those words that no chubby middle age women should hear- 'you need to slow down and relax.'

HA! That was Get-Out-of-Jail free card. That was my excuse not to try anymore.

I did. I slowed down. I used the excuse that I had a medical issue. I already knew that I was cheating myself on my runs; what would it hurt if I just stopped? Do you know what I didn't stop doing? Eating! I love food! I love cooking (well, at least five days a week). I love bread and coffee with cream and sugar. I love Netflix series that I can watch for hours. I love pretending to write when in reality, I am not writing-not writing, writing. I love saying I have a blog but got discouraged when no one is reading them. In other words, my friends- I was ok with not giving even 50%.

Don't tell my kids.

In December, I found a challenge, a small running challenge. It had a calendar that I printed out, and for a lovely two weeks, I did it---somewhat. I got bored. I got discouraged; I didn't have the Garmin to lie for me anymore. So I lasted two weeks. Did I feel bad? Nope... it was the holidays! It was COVID. It was winter. It was dark. I didn't have new running shoes. I didn't have running clothes. I had every excuse in the book...not to like how I look and not do something about it.

Do you know who did do something in 2020? My mother. My mother had a goal; it was a significant, overwhelming goal. She had strange mini-goals amid her large goal that made no sense to me. And damn it! She meets her goal. And I was her biggest cheerleader, secretly mad that she was doing it. I won't say that it encouraged me to move; it did the opposite. My mother has had survived some of the most significant medical concerns known to man---and she was getting healthy. I was blown away and ashamed. I was not getting healthy. I was not writing. I didn't even have goals.

January 1st, 2021- I stood on the scale to see where I was. Ouch! Hello Oreos and pizza. I see you on my scale! I said to myself- 'Self, you will not be left behind by your mother. But what was my goal? Of course- I sat down with my new Legend Planner and wrote that I was going to lose 20 pounds in January; run 100 miles a month; write every day for 1 hour; finish knitting two baby blankets by March; work full time; vacuum every day; cook Keto meals, and do that weird fasting thingy where I don't get to eat for 16 hours a day. I was doing to be where I was when I was 25.

HAHA.....that shit is not going to work for me.

So why do I want to run? I want to run to burn off my crazy. I am not afraid to say that- I need to run to burn off my crazy. I get crazy sometimes. I know that you are surprised by this. But it is true. People laugh at me when I say it- but it is true. I like running. I like running slowly and listening to my music while attempting to dance on the treadmill or the road. I love singing along with the music, especially rap. There is nothing like seeing a middle-aged, chubby woman trying to keep up with Eminem and Lil Wayne while running as fast as a slow walk. It makes me happy.

I don't run every day anymore- my knees hurt. But I am now walking on my off days, intentional miles. Sometimes my walks are laps around my living room as I watch Sabrina the Teenage Witch or listen to some virtual lecture. Yesterday I did 2.25 miles while learning about the history of the sewage system in London. Don't judge! I called my mother after the course to repeat everything that I had learned. Do I believe me as I walked another 2.25 miles around my kitchen, explaining how Number 1 and Number 2 pass through the London sewage system? Most likely not. But she did say 'well, now. That is very interesting, Rose.' My mother is the best!

My mother calls me and discreetly asks me about my goals and how they are coming along. No judgment. No expert advice. Just my mother, sitting on the sidelines, being my biggest supporter. She came to visit me recently and brought me her favorite cookbook- 'Keto for Dummies.' She didn't parade around the fact that she was skinny and I was not; she merely said- 'I highlighted the ones that taste good.' And that was it- that is all I needed. I have used that darn cookbook almost every day since then.

Goals are funny things. They can't be found off of searching Google. They can't be too big or too small or take too long. Goals can't be combined with someone else goals. They are personal and doable only to you. You can have a cheerleading squad, but my mom taught me in 2020- they have to be your own goals. I am not sure if I will make all my goals in 2021, but I have learned that I have no excuses not to try. My mother taught me that.