Sunday, July 20, 2008

UNCF Fund Run 5K...

It has been one of my mental blocks since I did it last year. I wanted to do well so badly. It's like I was desperate for something, and when I didn't do well it went into the big pile of disappointments that I had collected.

It started out with pain, a calf strain that I tried to run through. I ended up injuring myself with a tear that still haunts me to this day. Every time I get up in distance, I won't say milage because I hardly think 1.50 can be called "milage", it rears it's ugly head, and I quit.

I also didn't get much support. My WW running friends were FABULOUS in that department, but my family, with the exception of Ryan, was another story all together. They still don't get why I love to run.

Even though I hoped like hell, Ryan knew he'd be in the middle of the Gulf working. He was so supportive he even bought a GPS for me and "pep talked" me everyday. He was like the guy on,"The Water Boy." YOU CAN DO IT!!

My dad was freaked out about my going into the city, "alone" to do the race, yet they weren't willing to come with me. It's not like I was running in the middle of the 9th ward, alone and in the middle of the night. I was running around Audibon Park, in the Garden District, with a thousand other people!!

Ryan says it's their way of manipulating the situation. My parents don't think it's safe to ride a motercycle, so when we want to go ride they make a thousand and one excuses why they can't babysit. Same thing here, they refused to babysit. I was angry, hurt and feeling like a cagged animal ready to pounce.
It was the beginning of the end, of the woman I used to be. I was basically the poster child for, "Angry White Female."

After talking to my sister, she said that she would go with me and watch M while J stayed at her house with her husband.

I say it was the beginning of the end, because before this I would have just given up and stayed home. I wanted this so badly. I was tired of being told what to do, and what I was or wasn't capable of. Even now I hate that I allowed myself to be that person.

Not smart enough, not pretty enough, never skinny enough....too skinny. That friend isn't good enough, that boy isn't good enough, can't sing well enough, can't write well enough. Kids?? are you crazy? You'll just fuck that up too! LUCKY to be a dental assistant. Fortunate that such an educated, intellegent person is fooled into thinking you're good enough. No, I'm not exaggerating. Story of my life. I've learned through LOTS of therapy that my mother is the one with the issues, not me.

You see, my mom has this screwed up thinking that she's "protecting" us from failure, by dicouraging us from doing things were we may not successful. It's not because she doesn't love us, it's because she doesn't KNOW how to express her love other than her fucked up idea of protecting us from disappointment. She never got the concept that failure builds character, as well as success. Without failure you have nothing to work for. In her eyes failure just equals hurt. I don't think anyone ever taught her that success is in trying, not in winning, so you never fail unless you don't try.

I wonder if she has a clue that it hurts more than helps, especially when you get the inevidable, " I told you so." if you don't make it. Who cares that I made District Honer Choir four years in a row! I didn't make State, so I sucked. She wonders why I couldn't sing in front of her, it was an actual physical reaction when she was in the room. I really wasn't being a stubborn little bitch,like she thought. Dispite my eyerolls and saddy additude I was balled up on the inside;

I've learned that I can't sit around and wait for people to love me the way I need to be loved. There are some things that you simply can't change. The only thing I can do is be the kind of daughter that I can live with being, and maybe one day she'll appreciate that for what it is.

For me, this was so much more than a race. I wasn't running against a clock or the people running next to me. I was running against myself, trying to out race my demons, I failed miserably. I put on a brave face and did a good job of "acting" proud of myself, but I wasn't.

I wasn't ready for that race and it had absolutly nothing to do with my physical injury.

After alot of work, I'm in a different place this year. Even if I have to walk it in again, I'm ready to leave it on the course. It's the last peice of my past that I need to make right.

I have 11 weeks and a sore tendon in my leg, the haunting, poorly healed injury that I mentioned before. My PT friend has assured me that I should be able to train as long as I train smart. Lots of stretching, lots of strength training, lots of ice even when it doesn't hurt. No running without shoes, because of my high arches.

We do a good bit of barefoot running in Tae Kwan Do. Thankfully, my instructor is super helpful, and has begun giving me a minute to throw shoes on whenever necessary. I puffy heart my TKD peeps.

Oct. 5th, UNCF Fund Run. Bang or bust, run or walk, here I come! I've got some buisness to work out. It's demon killing time!

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Let's Get The Sillies Out...

You gotta jump, shake, shimmy them out...*dancing like a fool, with a bright ass yellow hat*

Being me is so exhausting! My therapist once told me that I have to learn how to be own best friend. Rather than be self punishing, be self lifting..blah, blah, blah.

How the heck do you do that?? It seems like a nice concept, but it's kind of hard to pull off sometimes. What has shaken my confidence you ask?? I suppose it comes with my bright idea of going back to school. I'm currently studying for my ACT in an attempt to further my education. I'm sadly realizing how far I have to go to reach my goal. Who the heck decided that fractions needed to be added anyways?? Especially the ones with an uncommen denominator? I mean REALLY?

Sometimes I feel like I'm on my treadmill running, running, running, yet never getting anywhere.

Will I run today?? um, maybe I'll just walk today, and run tomorrow. Will I eat right today?? After I eat all of the chocolate, I might TRY to squeeze in a salad. Will I grasp fractions today?? I'm sure gonna try REALLY hard....AGGGHHHHH!

Snap out of it!! Two weeks of this crap is more than enough girlie! Get off the pity pot and make it happen! Mop the floors, organize the mail, wash the windows and you'll feel better...I promise.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

My Yellow Piece of Tape

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I was a bundle of nerves as the hour approached for my very first belt test. I was well prepared and confident in my ability but I was still freaking out. I knew after attending my fair share of belt tests for J what was going to happen, but I still couldn't get out of my own head.

Random thoughts run through my head while my palms begin to sweat. What am I doing?? I'm too old, I'm too fat, I'm too insecure and I'm wearing it like a highway road sign for all to see. My stomach is huge and my ass is even bigger and the Do Bak (uniform) is very unforgiving. What if I'm the only one who doesn't pass?

What the hell am I thinking? I feel raw and exposed in front of this gymnasium full of strangers who are sure to be thinking all the same things, though in my heart I know they're too busy watching their son's and daughter's to even notice I'm there. It took me a couple of classes to ignore the parents who sit in on class and this is different, and different is uncomfortable.

As the testing instructor starts with the warm up exercises I start to relax a little because this is familer. I wonder what the other instructors are whispering as they bend their heads tward each other and scrutinize every move.

As we begin with kicks I panic a little because the one leading us is using the Korean words for the kicks and though I've heard them a million times in class it still takes a while for my brain to process it into: down kick, front snap, side, round...

When it's time for combinations he starts calling on us one at a time to tell him what kicks we are about to do and my mind is screaming, "please don't call on me...please."

Of course he did, and I got the last of the combination of three wrong. Imagine my horror as he asks the 10 year old standing to my left to correct me LOL

Shake it off....

Combinations are over and I look over to the table of instructors in the front of the room and our assistant instructor gives me a big smile and shakes his head in approval. Ok, so maybe I'm not doing so bad after all.

We move on to the forms portion of the test and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. We do Basic Form One and Chungi all together, and then he asks all of the yellow tips to sit down. The table of instructors laugh, as well as everyone else in the gym, when the last one standing is little ol me.

Chungi form, no count. Which means the instructor doesn't set the pace with a count, it's your job to keep it smooth and fluent without hesitation between moves. I try to quiet my mind, because I know that thinking too much during this is form suicide. I know the movements and I just let my body take over.

Not to brag but I did Chungi like I've NEVER done Chungi before. Every movement was precise. My stance was wide, wrists were straight with elbows slightly bent, belly button facing the right direction. My sleeves and pant legs even snapped with every was golden.

When I'm finished I sneak peek at the instuctors table again, and the two that are my very own have smiles plastered across their faces and I knew I had done good. The leading instructor then says, "I think that deserves a round of applause." I try to hide my grin as I breath a sigh of relief and take my seat as the others rise to the sound of MY applause still ringing through the gym....OK so I liked that part a little bit LOL

I get to watch as they do Taegeuk Il Chang, the next form I will learn. I'm thinking, "OK, I'm good. The only thing left is one steps and I don't have to do that"...or so said my instructor who didn't teach me one steps said.

Once they are done we are then instructed to make two lines facing each other and I panic because I know what's coming and he's not pulling me from the line! I look over to the table and my instructor is not there to rescue me...people have to take phone calls at the MOST inoppertune times!

I see my A.I. making his way to the back side of my line, breaking the cardinal rule because they are not allowed to instruct us. Yet he stands well away from me and makes believe he's checking out the other students, not really sure what to do himself since this is beyond his reach as an assistant. He keeps glancing over at me...smiling and shaking his head for moral support. I LOVE that guy!

When the T.I comes close enough to me I confess that I don't know one steps, thinking he will then pull me from the line.

"Who's your instructor?" he asks as he rolls his eyes a little. When I tell him he just chuckles because my instructor is the head of our association and basically is his boss so he then says," Just do the best you can and we'll forgive you." I stumble through the one steps and THEN we have to test terminolgy....

O come on! My nerves can't take anymore! Give me my tape already!

Finally the much anticipated moment arrives and I stand alone, in my line of one, while I wait or my tape.

I will always remember my first peice of tape fondly. After years of teasing J over his expensive tape every time he earned a tip I finally get it. It's so much more than just a piece of tape. It's a badge of honer and for me a personal accomplishment as well as a Tae Kwan Do one. Someone I know said it best when he said, "The degree on my wall is just a piece of paper but look at what it represents."

One day I'll be able to look back and shake my head at myself for not believing in me as much as everyone else. Hopefully, I'll be about 50 pounds lighter with a black belt around my waist.

For now the pride of not allowing my insecurities to be my brick wall, keeping me from attaining my goal is enough.

I hated every second of it, yet loved it with every ounce of my being, all wrapped into one crazy mess which is me.