I think of myself as a fat runner, a self image that lives entirely in my head while I spend 15 minutes a day walking in a pool as I recover from a span of ill health. I read Runner's Worldmagazine every month. It inspires me; shows me the beautiful things that can be mine through a lot of effort. I have walked/ran a few half-marathons and a couple of triathlons; I want that again.
Today I sat down to my kitchen table and my tea with the April issue. The feature is the typical story line stolen from VH-1: athlete hits it big, founders, and recovers (The only difference is sometimes these athletes never recover, or find that recovery means giving up on the comeback altogether.). The letters to the editor indicate these stories earn a mixed reception. VH-1 shows the death and destruction in black-and-white, the messes of life organized into a package with a positive ending- these articles frequently show the blood, and more. Now what I really want to know--I was just trying to read a magazine here people!-- so I should probably know better than to read them.
I don't know the man the article is about this time; I only know the article. His best friend encourages him in a race shouting, "You pussy!" at him over and over. It is printed over and over. It doesn't settle well with my tea, or my intention to feel uplifted as a fat woman runner. When I read about his low point, where he was passed at the finish by two women, all I can think is that he deserves to be passed every fucking time.
Pre-work day run to the store for all things bunny happiness related.
A friend visited today and said that I have GIANT bunnies and that it's difficult to tell from the pictures. They are 75% Brewster size bunnies so they don't seem that giant to me. Nine pounds? Small cat-size bunnies.
Well, nice to see you are still here! I've been missing, I know. There has been school and work, followed by paying just enough attention to the boyfriend that he doesn't disappear forever. All complicated by a trifecta of disease that made it impossible to exercise from 20 December of last year, through the Great Illness of Lent (6 weeks of fever anyone?) and culminated in emergency surgery three days before flying away to Europe.
I would take that and grant myself a prize for going to Europe anyway, first, and secondly, an excuse for the rest of the year, which seems more than fair, so that I can disappear into my latest obsession with Evernote and trying to figure out if getting a second monitor would mean I can throw away my paper notebook forever. Evernote lets you do all sorts of wonderful things, like create an Emergency folder to share with a second account. If I ever need emergency surgery again I can hand one person the password to the folder instead of spending the entire night in my hospital bed with my Blackberry smuggled under the sheets making a list of petsitter, lawyer, parents, etc. so that the boyfriend can take three days solving all of the life problems created by me spending oneday in the hospital. Ummmm... Thank you honey!
As enticing as that may be, looking up from my self-contained and self-obsessed Evernote world (You can organize everything! Not a single bit of paper has survived 24 hours in my house since I set up my account.), I did notice that yes it is a beautiful sunny day and yes I'm dragging that boyfriend to the pool whether he likes it or not, but also there are wonderful things going on in your lives.
First we've got The Dol having an unhappy foster dog experience with a very happy ending. Rob and Schyler are ready for summer, but first there was poetry. And rabbits, oh my! The many buns of Rabbit's Guy, and Freckles contemplating the intricacies of the English language (post series). And unseen buns the world over having a happy hoppy morning!
I am slowly getting my hoppy back. Meanwhile, I just finished scanning all the different versions of my hospital bills into Evernote. Making little hops to the checkbook and getting these bills paid before my next blogging excuse involves getting locked up!