Whew. What a day. And I don't just mean that for myself....
First off, I am so ridiculously grateful that the small boy in Colorado turned out to be hiding in his parents' attic the whole friggin' time that the nation and the world thought he was drifting aimlessly for 50 miles and two hours in a flimsy mylar aircrafty balloon thing. If anyone has ever had a child, a puppy, or had to watch someone else's purse for a few minutes, I think we can all appreciate the suspense and relief over that one.
Andrew spooked the crap out of me once. Not nearly on that level, and please (dear God!) do not give him any ideas. We live in an apartment building, on the second floor, and he is very good about staying on the porch-like balcony area when I have to dart in for something. One time I was desperate to use the restroom and he refused to come in, so I ran in and was as speedy as humanly possible. When I came out: no Andrew. Anywhere. I called for him, screamed for him, and began running all over the place. We live near the intersection of two busy streets, and I just started sprinting for the intersection, in the chance that he was near there. I just had to make sure he wasn't going that way before I started looking in other directions. My brain was flying, thinking he'd been snatched, he'd fallen and was unconscious somewhere, and how I was going to get help, since there was no one else around. All of this took mere seconds that stretched into eons in my mind and my heart. I. could. not. find. my. son.
I ran back to our apartment building, and turning a corner, saw past a hedge that Andrew was sitting in the grassy area just outside our apartment building. He'd been hidden by the shrubs and apparently we hadn't taught him that neat little trick of replying loudly when he was called for. I still remember that huge feeling of relief and gratitude and the heart pounding fear and panic from just moments before. And I just grabbed him and held him and tried to explain in a shaky voice just why I was so scared and why he had to stay put. The fault was absolutely all mine for leaving him alone for a minute, and I've learned that lesson, but I understand, to a small extent, the fear and terror that his parents and so many other people must have felt today, watching that flimsy silver balloon drift across the sky. I am so unbelieveably grateful that the little stinker was hiding in the attic after all. That kid should get an ice cream sundae for dinner, in my humble opinion...oops, maybe not...I am trying to promote healthy eating and lifestyle choices here, aren't I? Well, maybe an ice cream cone--it's been a rough day for us all!
Other things today have been less spectacular and suspenseful, but interesting nonetheless. I feel like I may have had a smidgeon of personal growth in the past day or so regarding my personal powerlessness over people, places, and things. This really extends to Andrew and (worst of all) to Steve. I say worst of all because he's a grown man, a rational human, and while he's been able to feed, clothe, and keep himself alive for...a while...before we ever met, I have a terrible tendency to try to "help" the poor man to death. And he's a pretty, um, headstrong person, and so every suggestion I make becomes the very last thing on earth he would ever want to try, and on and on. Terrible amounts of energy are expended over this, and some hair pulling and teeth gritting on my part, and I still butt my head against this problem, over and over again. And isn't that just the definition of insanity, folks? You know what I'm talkin' about.
Last night, I got to be a part of a lovely discussion about letting go of personal issues and surrendering things that I have no control of. People around me were sharing their experiences with issues similar to mine, and it was so helpful to hear about how they did it, and how they used to feel the way I feel, and now it's not like that anymore. So last night, when I got home and found my two boys still awake, rather late, and things not done the way I would have done them, I started trying to practice that idea. Every time I took a breath to start talking, I clamped my mouth shut. When Steve decided to stay up and do school stuff when he's been running on the fumes for days and days and I thought he ought to be in bed, I just stopped myself, mid-word nearly, and walked into the other room. And I made up my own prayer to God at that moment. Want to hear it?
"God, you take him 'cause I can't do shit with him."
Isn't that classy? That's the kind of relationship I have with the Man Upstairs, as my Grandma used to call him. All that thee, thine, and thou stuff is really pretty and very polite, but God kind of knows the inside of my head better than I do, so maybe I'm not such a frilly talker anyway and shouldn't pretend!
Back to BFL and all it's lovely stuff: Things are going well. I feel like I have been pushing it very hard this week. I have been running beyond the twenty minute workouts that are suggested for the program, and I am stunned at the amount of running I have been able to do without feeling like I'm going to expire. In fact, I feel pretty dang good afterwards--perhaps I am becoming addicted to the "runner's high"? On Monday, I ran on the treadmill at the YMCA, and I did my normal twenty minute Aerobics Solution. During that workout, I ran 1.6 miles. I then got off and went to the indoor track and ran an additional mile, so that I could get a gauge on how hard the Pumpkin Run would be for me. It wasn't too bad at all. I did some walking here and there, but it was totally doable. Tuesday I worked out with weights, and Wednesday got away from me without any working out at all (bummer). Tonight I went back to the YMCA and ran again for twenty minutes on the treadmill (1.6 miles again) and back to the indoor track to run the additional mile. This time I had to do way less walking! It's amazing to me, me who is not fast and can't run far, but I am doing it, step by step. I only walked for about a minute at a time, twice. And that's it. The rest of the time I ran, and (not to brag or anything...well maybe a little) the last two laps around the indoor track I picked up speed and sprinted the very last lap. It was such a nice rush to finish and smile to myself. If I wouldn't have looked like a weirdo I'd have patted myself on the back. This progress is so uplifting to me. I have worked hard, and I have tried hard, and I appreciate so much what my body has been able to do in the past nine weeks. I can't wait to see what will go down for the last three of this Body-for-LIFE cycle. I'll see you tomorrow!
PS: Not that you were really missing me that much, but the reason I couldn't post the past few days was because Steve was in a school/test/lab blitz and had to go into hiding on campus with the laptop. I am so glad to have internet (and Steve) back! :)