I Want To Be A Runner

Happy Frizziday rockstars!  I'm totally geeked to have made it through another week {and not just because it's payday}.  I'm pumped to witness the keek rap-off between Mel and Kimmy.  These two crack me up!  I love that they bust out the old school rap.  And... you never know when I'll bust out a rap of my own.  

Now, down to business.... why do I write this blog.  Truthfully, I have NO idea.  All that was highlighted the other day when I wrote this post.  I had ONE person comment {Thanks, Kimmy, you totally made my day, seriously.}  So why do I bother. I guess it's still what it was when I started.  My outlet for writing how I felt when R was gone.  Sometimes though, I am afraid to write what I truly want to.  I know, I know, this is my corner of the internet.  However, I don't want to offend anyone with what I write.  Yes, if people don't like it, they don't have to read it.  That's just easier said than done - for me at least.

It's like standing in the bathroom in my birthday suit, looking in the mirror, and liking what I see.  It ain't happenin'.  I'm working on liking what I see, but for me, it's not easy.  I have never loved the way my body looks.  I've been hitting the gym more regularly and incorporating more weights into my routine to "firm things up."  I'm sticking with it, even though I find lifting to be incredibly boring.   I know it takes time - I just wish my body would change faster.  Truthfully, I'm not sure I will ever look in the mirror and be able to think, "Dang, I look good."   I have never been an overly large person.  Yes, I hit a point of chubbiness that lead me to Weight Watchers for a while, but I am not one of those girls with a 30, 40, 50 or more pound weight loss story.  I am just an average person who works out because I would love more than anything to stand in front of a mirror and think, "Hey, not too bad." 

I would LOVE to meet so many of the ladies whose blogs I stalk daily.  I have fears about that though. My biggest fear is meeting one of them, having them look at me and think, "YOU run?  You certainly don't look like a runner."  Do I consider myself a runner... No, I don't. I have been running for about two years and don't consider myself a runner.  Maybe because my normal run is about three and a half miles and {in my mind} I don't feel like that is long enough to be a true runner.  Maybe it's because I have only done one 5K race.  Maybe it's because I get to 4 or 4.5 miles and my body {read: brain} tells me I "can't" go any farther.  I don't know, but I don't consider myself to be a runner.  

I want to be a runner. 

I just went this past Tuesday and got fitted for the proper running shoes for my running style and feet.  Talk about intimidating.  The entire time I was in there, I felt like the store employees looked at me with thoughts that I've probably never ran a mile in my life.  All of the employees had long, super skinny legs -- and there I was with my short tree trunks.   Yes, I know, God made me the way I am - and don't get me wrong, I am VERY grateful for the ability to run.  I just wish I was one of those people who could look in the mirror and like what they see.  

I'm going to adopt Mama Laughlin's motto of "Progress, Not Perfection."  Maybe someday I'll get to the point of liking my birthday suit.  I'm just hoping that day comes sooner than later -- age isn't on my side anymore.  Darn you, Father Time.