Dusting myself off... again.

Today I felt like wallowing.
Actually yesterday I felt like wallowing too.
Truth be told, I've felt like wallowing for 5 days now.

I feel unemployable.
I feel unloveable.
I feel unwanted (at times) as a mother.
I feel like a loser.

So with that heavy in my heart, tears freshly wiped from my face, I set off again on my running path. Funny how on the heavy days, you feel like your runners are filled with concrete and lead. 'There's no freakin' way I'm going to break 45 mins today' was a thought that kept drifting in and out of my head as I pounded along the path. I forgot to smell the salty ocean, I forgot to listen to the waves fighting up and over my running tunes as they crashed against the cliffs, I forgot to listen to the lyrics to every single song that shuffled up and out of my ipod.

All I could really think about were the things that I was trying to run from, trying to run out of me. I tried to fight those thoughts, ignore them, smile at them to see if they'd magically disappear. Instead I just started crying whilst running.

Crying whilst running is HARD! So much snot, so little time to breathe and sob.

I didn't think that the run was much chop. I checked the time, 45 mins on the dial, whaddyaknow. I went to sit on the rocks afterwards but there was a school excursion right there (of course there was). So I just took a slug of water from the bubbler and clomped off home, with my concrete and lead filled runners.

I didn't feel the usual sense of accomplishment, exhilaration, satisfaction. Nuthin'.

I cried less though. And I managed to apply for another job, despite still getting over the disappointment of missing out on the best job I've ever interviewed for. Oh and I emailed the HR person for the best job I've ever interviewed for and thanked them for the interview, let em know how much I loved the sound of that company, that role. Sometimes I'm like a dog with a bone when it comes to letting go of things. Mostly that just kicks me in the arse, but hey, you never know. I don't believe it was tenacity that killed the cat... I contacted a job agency in the business area I really want to get into, gave them my resume. I had a cup of tea lovingly made for me from the kid that I felt so unwanted from yesterday. I connected with both kids over a card game. I did less headmiles over feeling so unloveable.

I found myself dusting myself off... again.

I'm off to bed, to read myself to sleep. Tommorrow actually IS another day, who knew?

Running with Gangsigns

Today I feel like running.
So I did.
9kms to be precise; my house to the beach, along the cliffs to the neighbouring beach, then to the next beach, then back to my beach.

I run to music, LOUD. My running playlist is full of 90s dance tracks; it's a wonder I don't stop mid-run and break into the Running Man. Running is a fairly new thing for me, and it mocks me quite a bit. I don't actually like it all that much; I HATED it when I first started, so I signed myself up for a 10km run to force myself to run more. I'm like that, I love a challenge, especially when I feel mocked by things. These days though I'm pretty fit, so the running is kind of, dare I say, enjoyable? Certainly enjoyed myself when I ran today, dressed to the bare minimum of shorts and singlet, the salty air licking my face and sticking to my hair. I felt ALIVE man.

Whilst pounding the pavement, rounding the bends of the cliffs, watching the icy blue water hammering up against the rocks, I thought of running as a metaphor for life. Everyone runs to the beat of their own drum don't they? Some go at it like a dog on heat, barely pausing to take in their surroundings. Some shuffle along cautiously, pausing to take a breath, take stock. Others just amble along without a care in the world, no real purpose to it but taking it all in. Me? Apparently I run with gangsigns. My little sister taught me how to do them. We laughed when she taught me as she is so hardcore that they totally suit her huge man hands. I have such tiny little dainty hands that they just look out of place, ironic. So today I looked down whilst running, pondering on the metaphor of it all, and noticed that my cute little dainty hands were running with gangsigns.

I'm at the biggest crossroads in my life right now. My world is full of conviction, confusion, laughter, tears, growth, stagnancy, mockery, irony. To me it makes perfect sense that I was running with gangsigns and I didn't even know it.