Therapy is hard work. Even harder when you have a fantastic person like I do who insists you do yoga poses while you try to process things.
Being visited by the ghost of my 10-year-old self. This is hard. That was the year death had really touched me with the loss of my cousin. Realizing that skittering and scattering around the anger of the adults in my life has set me up with some craptastic coping mechanisms. Dancing the Shiva Nata and seeking out patterns that I need to work on.
So Tired. Running more and I need to work on the feeding bit. Feeling happier in my own skin and thinking it is starting to show.
My ex-husband is getting remarried this week. Thankful we still talk a couple of times a year. Happy he has found peace and love. Sad that I have not. We will be divorced 11 years this March. Thinking about relationships and trying to embrace this fallow period. Going back to agricultural references and hoping that this to will only make me stronger
Back to sleeping in a solid stretch, just not as long as I once did. Hoping the getting by on less sleep isn’t leading me back down the rosy path of manic behavior.
Listening to –
Cute dog picture
From my first 12 hours on OKCupid
“Nude sad frogs 🙂 ”
Message from nerdroc
Wow. Can’t wait for more!
Miles Ran this week – 15
Weeks to 1/2 marathon – 17
What I’m cooking – Baked Maple Oatmeal
What I’m reading – “Threats to Homeland Security”, “Understanding Terrorism Groups, Strategies, and Responses” – Yepp classes have started back up
Cute dog picture of the week
What I’m listening to – Jem “They”
“Our running shoes are really erasers. Every step erases some past failure. Every mile brings us closer to a clean slate. Each foot strike rubs away a word, a look, or an event…”
~ John Bingham
This sums it up for me. Even though I’m slow and I’m well aware I will never do anything better than finish that run or race every step helps. It helps for the unkind words that were said or I wanted to say. It helps the feeling of failure go away. Because as long as I finish that run it doesn’t matter where I am, what boy didn’t call me back, or that horrible mistake I made at work. None of it matters when I can put one foot down in front of the other and finish. I take all of those hurts and disappointments and that is what keeps me going on the run when my body is telling me to stop.
The Buffalo Central Terminal
Winter running tights because 5 miles on a treadmill is sooooo fucking boring.
Reorganizing and deep cleaning the kitchen
Classes starting next week
Listening to Chris Bathgate
Snow! Finally! Tupper is not thrilled but Kimi is having a ball.
How olives fried in olive oil and garlic make me very happy.
Dates in Buffalo seem to have two common themes. Beer and sports. Almost 6 years in this town and I have yet to have a bloke take me to a museum, or theatre, or a concert…or just for a walk around.
Last night was a hockey free night so I thought I was safe from at least the sports. I had forgotten about the Alabama – LSU game. Palmtoface. So, after finishing my water and post run Guinness…I wandered off. Took my “date” to the 2 commercial break to notice I was home.
I like sports as much as anyone and I can waste a Saturday or Sunday on the couch watching football, or baseball, or a race. But, if it is a first date and a blind one at that, shouldn’t one try a bit harder than a dive bar in South Buffalo?
My dogs were happy with my early return as I light the fire, put on my jammies, and curled up in a puppy pile to watch whatever caught my eye on Hulu.