Skip to main content

No one is looking at you

Dear Diary,

I waited almost a week to tell you about my last 5k!

Every one of these experiences comes with its own lesson, and this one was clear from the beginning. This is me when Nick and I pulled into the parking lot at 7:30 Saturday morning:

Hey, do you want to just save the entrance fee and go do our 3.1 miles at the park?

And we would be done faster because we wouldn't have to wait til 9 to start!

Etc.

He got really frustrated with me and said, "If you don't want to do it, just say so!"

He forced me to realize I did want to do it, I was just afraid. Afraid of being chased by jackals? Afraid of the ground swallowing me up? (No joke it happened very nearby not too long ago.) I wasn't even afraid I couldn't do it because 3 miles is no big deal anymore.

I was afraid people would look at me funny! With there little beady zero-body-fat eyes! Look at that girl! She got lost on the way to IHOP this morning! I HATE that kind of judgment, but I am the one visiting it upon myself most often!

I'm going to make this little note to myself really bold so maybe I can remember it:

PEOPLE ARE TOO WORRIED ABOUT THEMSELVES TO PAY ATTENTION TO YOU.

Right? Is that guy in the professional racing gear thinking about whether I fit in or about his own goals? Yeah, probably not me. I just always get so nervous thinking I'm going to be humiliated or made fun of. To my knowledge, this has never actually happened.

The race turned out pretty great, a sunny walk/run through UTSA's campus. And if you remember from about a month ago, I'm logging miles to earn a treadmill. I now have 62/100!!!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

On the topic of stuff I don't want to do: Cook dinner

Saturday night I tried really hard to get out of cooking dinner. No, I'm not perpetually steam-drenched, hunched over the stove every night, just looking for one night off. I have just about every night off because Nick cooks most of the time, and when it's my turn, I tap into my arsenal of delivery services.

This is not how my mama raised me.

Saturday night, I did, very begrudgingly, grate carrots and sauté bokchoy and glaze chicken. Nick said, "You don't seem to like cooking." But... but... but, I wanted to defend myself, I know how to cook; I used to cook; I used to like cooking.

Things change.

For example, kids. Feeding kids for the last 4.5 years has consumed me, no apology for the pun. My obsession with managing their growth and nutrition is totally separate from cooking. It's a mental tally of macronutrients and micronutrients; it's creating the perfect veggie snack plate with every cucumber slice salted; it's composing and blending superfood sm…

On not waiting for the perfect time

When I got pregnant the second time, I was waiting for that stage to end before I would live my life. Exercise, activities with kids, travel, writing, house projects... Then after the Lizzie came and things were so complicated, I still found myself waiting until she was older, waiting to get out of tangle of doctor appointments.  Then I was planning to start life after both kids were in school, at least three years away! Enough!  Anything I want to do can be adapted to start now, incorporating the kids and whatever challenges we face in our plans.  Some dreams may be better suited for the future, but there will be no more blanket attitude of putting things off for later when it would presumably be easier or less busy. 
There is no perfect time, but the best time could be now.

Milestones, I curse you with the foulest language!

I just created a document to list the words I've heard Lizzie say. I count 14, but I haven't consulted with Nick or her grandparents to see if I've missed any. I'm doing this homework so when people question me about her development, I can say assuredly whether or not she is meeting her milestones. This week I was ashamed to not know whether she typically leads with her right or left foot, or if she often kneels while playing, and if so, are her hips bent or straight? What direction does the third finger on her left hand point while she lays in bed on the night of a full moon? There are so many things I didn't realize I should be noticing.

I hate all those stupid f**king lists of milestones. I can't articulate it any better than that.

So many nagging lists of things a child "should" be doing. I think "should" implies some moral imperative or an obligation to meet external expectations, and I swear the word doesn't apply to a baby.

That s…