It happens to me almost daily, more so in the last couple of years.
The sky is always blue & clear. The air is coolish, like on a Fall Texas late afternoon.
Each day, I envision myself as a long-distance runner. My hair is long, pulled back in a pony tail that's flopping happily against my neck and back with each step jogged. I'm lean, very lean. My stomach is flat, my arms are sharply defined, no signs of back fat. There's no jiggling or short breath or burning lungs.
I'm wearing jogging clothes, but not a baggy t-shirt and spandex shorts that are stretched waaaaay too tightly around the thighs, with the legs of the spandex curling up and cutting off the cirulation at the inner thigh, rising high and higher, where I'm constantly having to reach down and pull the shorts down from between my legs. *cringe* Nah, I'm wearing a matching set of something feminine, definitive and exercise-y, and it's staying in its place.
I'm not running away from anything. No. I'm not running toward something either. At least, I don't think I am. As I type this, I'm not sure about that statment anymore. Hmm.
In my visions, I don't ever finish running. Then again, now that I think about it, I don't ever see myself begin the jog, either. Another hmmm.
Steady.
Focused.
Disciplined.
Diligent.
Committed.
Did I tell you? I hate running. I abhor it, mostly because I can't run for any length of time and for some reason, I'm embarrassed about that. As a kid, I wanted to try out for the track team, so I did. The coach wanted me for long-distance running and I wanted to do shot put or some other FIELD part of the "Track & Field". I didn't want to do RUNNING! During that same year, I remember feeling so satisfied in completing a five minute mile in P.E., but I still felt ... I dunno ... less than...the other girls (who were skinny and cute and popular). Why did running and being "first" at a run in P.E. have to be a measure of my popularity in school? How silly! This is one of the strange, social, cultural pressures of being female -- even at an early age of junior high/middle school.
From time to time, I try to get into it. I got pretty serious about it the year I got married. It lasted a couple of months. Not sure why I quit doing it. Probably because I hated it. hahaha
One time, on a gym treadmill, I ran for eight minutes in a row! Cool, huh? I have to cover up the timer screen with my towel so I don't do the give-up based on how far or how long I've jogged. It's a psychology thing. I'm wired that way.
Ironically, I've alwaysALWAYS admired runners. It takes incredible drive to maintain a running schedule. I am amazed at the notion of a "runner's high". It grosses me out when people tell me they ran a marathon and their toe nails have fallen out, but even though it makes me want to hurl, I have much respect for that. MUCH respect! The body of most runners are firm and shapely -- healthy. The serious runner has good complexion, control of their food and beverage intake, tans, and peace. Sure, there are some out there that are radical fanticals and are pretty wheels-off, but for the most part, I know very stable runners.
Tonight, while walking our dog, I had a revelation. It was one that was sort of sneaking from the back to the front of my mind when I told a man with whom I work that I was getting to that age where if I die, people say "she died so young!", but I'm older, so have to be more careful with my body. So, building on that, I realized that I'm afraid to exercise because I don't want to die. I have this irrational fear that the most minimal exertion will cause me to have a heart attack and die. I gotta get over that....GOTTA!
I've tried to figure out what this image is supposed to mean -- the one I have of me being healthy, lean and strong. What does it mean that I don't start or finish? What does it mean?
Perhaps it is an metaphor for my life? I'm constantly running, but not the physical jogging kind. Instead, my mind is busy all the time. And my schedule stays busy. Work is busy. Blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda.
Perhaps it's a self-acknowledgement. The image embodies all that I want be. It contains characteristics of which I lack: drive, ambition, a clear-cut path, and probably most importantly, commitment; committment to myself, the regime, the schedule, to food/beverage plan. I suppose I am not a horrible person because I lack these qualites, after all, I have several strengths which are serving me equally well, if not better than any jog would. Commitment is definitely a biggie, though. Yessireebob-o.
Perhaps it's me in a few years, physically running. Could it be that what I'm seeing now is what I will be (without the flat tummy -- no hope there unless I get cosmetic surgery!). I once heard Kate Gosselin say about having all her babies something to the effect that once you get your mind to accept that it's a possiblity, your body and actions can follow and you start to think, 'yeah, I can DO this". I'd like to think that this is true for me. With any luck, maybe someone someday will coach me or mentor me, train me somehow. I am the kind of person who needs an authority over me in order to respond.
I dunno... I'm sure there are other possiblities. Feel free to share if you like. For now, I'm going to go to bed. I'm sure I'll see myself running.
Nite. *yawn*
Day 7 - Cocoons!
The silk is webbing the inside of the container. It's hard to tell by this picture, but they're eating and pooping a lot (the sand-like specks are poo)! They are also longer, fatter and fuzzier!
