Sunday, March 20, 2016 run or not to run

This morning my cat, Smudge, ate my dachshund's food. Lola just stepped back and let her have it, the food, that is. She went back to her chair and curled her tail under her to admit the cat! She gave me a look that said, "Please, feed me somewhere else while that cat is occupied with my first round of food." I did. I took Lola to the kitchen where I gave her another dish of food. She ate it, quickly! Lola was afraid of the cat!

We are all probably giggling at the prospect of my scrawny cat taking over the dog's food bowl; however, how many times in our lives do we allow the very same thing to happen?

Of all the magazines I buy, the ones I devour are my running magazines. I love them! I have always dreamed that I am a runner; so, when I read these magazines, in my mind, I am reading about myself! Strong, athletic, and totally in control of my two clumsy feet striding down the pavement. Not worrying about my boobs bouncing around, my tummy jiggling, or my hair not looking right as it sprouts from my ball cap! And especially not worrying about the neighbors looking out their windows wondering, "What the hell is that fat chick out there trying to accomplish?"

Hearing these types of things are paralyzing! I recently read an article about a man who was so embarrassed about his weight that he would not step foot outside to walk until he'd lost weight inside his apartment (Weldon, Nick. "Game Changer." Runner's World. Pg. 26, April, 2016) by basically pacing! Now, he is out and running marathons! He conquered his fear! Way to go, Brian!

I have dropped lots of weight in the past 3 years (about 75 lbs) by walking and eating good foods (of course, I eat bad foods, too). I am pretty sure I am at the point that I need to start running. What am I waiting for? I'm not getting younger! I have friends older than I am who are running daily. What's my excuse? I can answer that...fear. Fear of falling flat on my face in front of a group of people who will point at me while laughing and say something hateful like, "Ha, fatso! What did you think would happen?"

Ultimately, I have to decide if I want to be like Smudge or Lola. Do I want to move back to my comfy chair, tucking my tail; or, do I want to growl and take what I want with my tail flicking in the air? Fear...will it motivate me or paralyze me? I think I will strap on my running shoes and at least go for a brisk walk.

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