Mid-Week Ramblings

So, so many random things.

Remember that bruise I showed you? Well I've been exercising pretty consistently, but even after a week it was still a bit sore. I was telling my neighbor about it since she is a physical therapist, and she offered to tape it to encourage it to heal more quickly. I have no idea how that works, but this was the result. Can we just all take a moment and appreciate that I have two, neon-pink octopuses (octupi?) on my thigh? I'm kindof stoked about it. The tape will stay on for 4 days, and I bet I'll have quite the interesting pattern when I remove it.

(Also, I apparently live in those shorts since they've appeared in numerous pictures. Quit judging me.)

Part of the reason I'm exercising is because I'm doing a 7-mile race with a girlfriend on March 28th. I'm still in disbelief that I actually volunteered for that. Eeeeek! I know that isn't a long distance compared to a half or full marathon, but it's a long distance for this non-runner. I'm up to 3 miles, and I'm doing a combination training schedule of both running and PiYo, which is my current favorite workout. I remember not being able to run even a quarter of a mile when I first started to lose weight, so finishing this will be a big accomplishment, and I'm excited.

The friend with whom I'll be running the previously mentioned race is currently in the hospital having a baby. Literally, right now. I adore her, and I'm over the moon she is adding a new little one to her precious family! I'm excited to get to see the baby in March, but I'm also a bit...I don't know...anxious, maybe? I spent a long while planning to have babies of my own, and trying actively to get pregnant. I have a box of baby stuff packed away in my apartment that I couldn't bear to give up. I'm okay with where I'm at right now, but I wonder how being around a new baby will make me feel. My biological clock is screaming at me loudly. I'm doing my best to keep it quiet, and just appreciate where I'm sitting for the time being. Despite the fact that I'm totally happy and content though, I can't seem to forget that I'm out of my twenties, and I have a time limit. I was at the store last week making faces at a tiny little guy, and I got a bit teary-eyed out of nowhere. CONTROL YOURSELF, STUPID HORMONES. It isn't time yet.

I feel continually pushed out of my comfort zone at work lately. It's not a bad thing at all, but it's, at times, challenging. As much as I've grown personally, I feel like I'm growing leaps-and-bounds professionally since moving into this new role. The result is that I am some shade of pink most of the day. Between uncomfortable conversations, public speaking, and trying to keep a wide variety of random emotions in check, I feel myself blushing all.the.time. I hate that I'm so easy to read. Even when I present as calm and confident, my rosy cheeks give me away. I don't quite understand why it's so challenging. I'm pretty good at people in general. I adore people. I talk to random strangers all the time, people find me approachable and I'm always the person in whom everyone confides. I think perhaps the difference is the expectation that I need to be awesome, and the fear that I won't be.

I'm writing this post when I should be doing homework. I'm procrastinating, because I hate being in school. It's necessary, and I see the value, but it's so time-consuming and it never ends. I've been in for almost a full year now with no breaks. I'd love just one week that didn't involve homework. I keep reminding myself that I'll be done in less than a year. Almost, Kris. Almost.

I hit a random "anniversary" (totally crappy term for this, but for lack of a better word I'm going to use it anyway) last week. It's officially been one year since I've been single. Not divorced, but single. That means that I've been through every difficult date, holiday, birthday, and anniversary by myself. What seemed impossible is done. I definitely have thoughts on it, but not thoughts that I could adequately convey at the moment.

This last tiny bit of weight is stubborn and won't move. I'm exercising, and eating fairly clean, and it's just hanging out. Ridiculously annoying. I'm trying to not be focused on a number, but my head hasn't caught up with how I look yet, and I feel like somehow hitting that goal validates the fact that I'm "small". Rationally, I can hear how ridiculous that sounds.  A couple of weeks ago a friend of mine picked me up and I went completely deadweight and freaked out. Like, legitimately freaked out. I was waiting for a grunt, or him to drop me, or something really bad to happen, like his back to snap in half under the weight of me. It didn't, and he acted as if it were fairly effortless. My brain doesn't understand that though. I still feel bigger, and if it's at all possible, maybe even more self-conscious now than I did before I started to lose weight. Before, I was unhappy with everything and just at a point of acceptance about it. Now, I'm starting to be super happy with certain areas of my body (my favorite? visible hip bones!), but that means that "problem areas" are a very real thing. I want everything to look amazing immediately, and it doesn't yet. I've heard people talk about mental blocks, and there is definitely some truth to that. Who knows if hitting that number will help at all. But that's still my goal. Ten pounds left. I can do ten pounds. And then my goal is to workout until everything does look amazing.

I suppose that's enough rambling for today. I should probably finish this homework...sigh...

First Time Skiing

This weekend I went skiing for the first time. A friend of mine (let’s call him D) invited me along, and I was super excited to try it; however, in theory it wasn't nearly as tough as it was in reality! We found a place about an hour from Minneapolis, and they offered a two-hour beginner ski lesson at the start of the day. While I went to my lesson, my very experienced friend hit up some of the black diamond slopes that he knew I wouldn't be seeing. I found myself in a group of 6-7, with an instructor who was super patient and kind. It was very 101 – how to put on your skis, how to get them off, what to do if you fall, etc. He tried to teach us how to turn, but I had a really difficult time grasping that concept, and didn't really master it very well on the bunny hill. I finished my lesson at noon and then we met up to figure out plans. I had every intention of grabbing drinks/lunch at the main lodge that we were next to, but as D was skiing, he discovered a little bar on the other side of the resort that you could only get to via skiing. I completely freaked out because A)I hadn't been on the lift yet, and B)I hadn't been off the bunny hill. I asked him about 10 times in a row if I could do it, and he assured me that I could. He anticipated my freak out, so he’d picked up a map so he could show me the exact hills we would ski down and the location of the bar. I was still apprehensive, but I agreed to give it a try. We got to the lift, and he told the lift operator it was my first time. The guy stopped it to show me how it would come around, and how to position myself when it picked me up. Easy peasy. As it turns out, riding the lift up the hills was my favorite part of the day. It was so beautiful! So halfway up I had another freakout because ohmyGOSH how do I get OFF the lift? Am I about to be catapulted down the mountain?! I CANNOT BE CATAPULTED DOWN THE MOUNTAIN. Once I was reassured that there would be adequate flat ground I was okay. I got off of the lift, and froze. I didn't think I could do it, and I was panicking. It looked too steep, and too long, and I was afraid. I didn't cry, but for a few brief minutes I wanted to. D spent the next ten minutes reassuring me that I could make it to the bottom, and that I simply had to turn my skis down, and I'd be done before I knew it. He reassured me that he would ski behind me the whole time, and that he wouldn't leave me by myself. I finally went, and I fell. Hard. Skis and poles went flying, and D gathered them up and brought them to me. He helped me get up, and I tried again. I fell twice more going down the hill, but I made it. We got some drinks and rested for awhile and then it was time to go back up. The second hill we went down had parts that were much less steep, and I got to practice. D helped me learn to turn my skis to slow down, and I started to get the hang of it. I fell so many more times (seriously, SO much), but I got more confident each time. Then we hit the hill that made my day. I took a deep breath, and went for it. I wasn't panicked, and I was finally able to process what was happening - "you're too fast, slow down a bit by turning your skis in a little; go around this person; you're standing up so squat down a little more; keep your arms in" - and before I knew it, I was at the bottom. I started to freak out a little when I realized I didn't know where to go, because I wasn't able to slow down as much as I needed when I got near the end. Then I heard D, who had skied behind me the entire time, talking me through where to turn, so that the ground would naturally stop me - he saw me looking around, and knew what I was thinking. Y'all. When I came to a stop I could have exploded into some rainbows. I was so excited that I finally made it down and I'm pretty sure I smiled the most ridiculous, cheesy smile the rest of the day. We did several more runs successfully, and I loved it. We wrapped up the end of the day in the lodge drinking beer and watching people ski down a timed course. It was a super fun day! 

All those falls left a mark though. When I fell, I favored my left side apparently, and this happened. Both sides, and my bum, swelled up.

I wasn't in pain through the day, but by the end of the day, I was super tender. I spent the next 48 hours icing it down, and it's still a bit sore still, though the swelling is all gone. It produced, by far, the coolest bruise I've ever had, and maybe the largest. Here's the evolution over the course of the last week...pretty gangster, no?

After I had some alone time to process the day, I couldn't help but think of how representative it was of my life this past six months. I've stood on the top of that proverbial  hill so many times, and completely frozen. What I've found though, is that when I trust myself, and my ability to do whatever it is I'm trying to do, I make it. Sure, I might fall, and end up with some nasty bruises along the way, but that's part of it. And the more I go down the hills, the more confident I become in my ability to go down more. 

If you're standing at the top of your hill, let me offer a little gentle encouragement, and a virtual pat on the bum...

You've got this. You're stronger than you think you are. You'll make it to the bottom, and if you fall, it's okay - everyone does. It's less scary than you think. You've made it so far already, and the end is in sight. Just take the first step. Even if it's a tiny step, take it. Before you know it, you'll be finished, and the satisfaction is priceless.