Due to the deadly combination of ridiculous stress, anxiety, & just some plain ole sucky news, I have been transformed into Debbie Downer (although with better fashion sense & better hair, I hope). I'm pretty sure that Kevin is convinced that enduring a double root canal & a Gilmore Girls Marathon has got to be more fun than hanging out me these past few days. Between work, school, family stuff, & realizing I don't have a free weekend until late August, I started on the vicious downward spiral of self-pity, which hasn't been a pretty sight. However, like I've said before, I am basically a certifiable nutcase if I don't get my workout in on a daily basis, so even if the world is coming to an end (in my eyes or in real life), you better bet I'm going to get that workout in, just because I know it'll help my mood.
As a side note: Now, although I may threaten violence on my ridiculous husband from time to time, the above clip proves why I'd never lay a hand on him. Because....Happy people just don't shoot their husbands. They just don't :)
Although I was 110% positive I was still going to be buying a one way ticket on the pissy train to blah-land when I returned, I did decide to go on a run around the neighborhood. In the spirit of transparency, I really just wanted to be alone to get my pity party on, without judgement. As I was running up a large hill, I noticed this other girl runner, with uber long, skinny legs, on the other side of the street. She was taking this hill at a muuuuch faster pace than me (And making it look super easy. What a wench.), which was surprising because usually I can rock & roll on some hills. (My mom towers over me with her long legs, but I always always always beat her on hills. Sorry Jan.) So with this girl, I really could NOT get over quick she was, considering how skinny & long her legs were. Of course, being my hyper competitive self, I attempted to pick up my pace & beat her up that hill, but there was no catching this girl. I was trying to console my 25 year old body about my slower pace by telling myself that she had to be a high school cc runner, track star, or something of that nature. When she stopped at the top of the hill to talk to a car that had pulled into one of the drive-ways, I was super thrilled because I was dying to get a good look at this chick with the ridiculously fast pace & insanely skinny legs that went along to match. When I finally caught up to her, I could not believe my eyes. Shock & awe doesn't even cover what I saw. I was right about one thing. She was definitely in high school- couldn't have been a day over 15 years old. But I was wrong about her legs. They weren't skinny. They weren't long. They weren't even present. Those skinny legs were actually prosthetic limbs. Oh. My. God......
I had been praying over the past few days for God to cut me some slack & to let something GOOD happen because I couldn't handle much more. Witnessing the determination of this other runner gave me the gut check (and tears) that I was in desperate need of. God sent a message back to me alright- LOUD & CLEAR. Sh*t happens, its how you respond to it that determines what you're made of. This other runner has been dealt one hell of tough hand in life, but its not getting her down- Yet, I'm letting a few bad days make me the Prozac poster child. Needless to say, the endorphins I got from that run weren't the only thing that helped give me a new lease on life. I am incredibly blessed & I need to remember it. Every day.
So, speaking of the poster child for Prozac.....
Lets discuss this trainwreck.... Meet Amber Portwood.
|Gary- Amber's Baby Daddy|
Now, I love some good trashy tv, but after hearing about Amber Portwood today, I gotta draw a line at this one. Mmmmkay yall, thats it for now.