I almost broke up with George and Martha yesterday. Due to the very wet and nasty weather on Saturday I threw myself a little Hawaiian luau and enjoyed it. So when Sunday hit with the small sliver of sunlight and warmth I took it. 16 miles? Bring it on. So for the first 14 miles it was nothing but wow! Look at me go! Then at 14.5 suddenly I heard this blaahhh sound from a mack truck that came out of no where and ran me over.
That's not what really happened but it felt like it. The last two miles I walked/ran/hobbled toward my car. When I got there I literally fell to me my knees and I cried. I couldn't believe how hard I went and how in the world was I to get home? So while I was there on the ground at the Farmington Front Runner station I finally said the words that I hate to say. I surrender all. I surrendered all my fatness, my anger, my hatred, all of the self doubt, the self pity, and I could feel myself getting lifted. Being lighter. When I was able to stand I had enough energy to get my car started.
It amazes me what our bodies can do. What awful things we put them through and it forgives us. Our bodies take the hurt,the internal strife, the fear, and become the exterior reflection on what is going on in the inside. So I've decided at that moment on my knees when I see somebody in the appearance of suffering not to close my eyes and ignore it. Behind every fat person is somebody who wants to be asked what's wrong, who wants to be told that they are beautiful, whose very presence has changed somebody for the better. Now does this mean I'm going to go around to every person and be like Oh how can I praise you? How can make you better? No. What it means is that when somebody does something for me to take a moment and acknowledge it. When somebody does something amazing to tell them. What's strange is that we crave praise and acknowledgement but it seems I (and others imagine) cannot take it. I'm terrible at taking praise. So I'm going to be like Dolly Parton and just smile big and say thank you with a big southern drawl.
I've only got one life. One moment. I don't want to waist it (get it waist it? no? Maybe it was just me then) on being self absorbed.
So while I think I'll keep George and Martha around for awhile but if they let me get run over by a mack truck again they are going to start the process of becoming a running track.
I can only run 3 miles before I double over and feel like I'm dying. You are amazing to be running 16+!! I can say I have NEVER run in the double digits - keep it up Blake, that is awesome.
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