Act I: Relationship with boyfriend falls apart
Act II: Heroine (yours truly) & James Bond (world's BEST dog) move out of boyfriend's house and into her mother's house for the time being
Act III: Heroine still pursuing journey to become a stronger, healthier
My first morning alone was strange. Which is odd considering that I've lived by myself for the greater part of a decade. But, it was eerily quiet. Like, Right-before-Michael-Myers-pops-out-and-kills-the-dumb-bimbo-and-you-scream-and-spill-all-of-your-popcorn quiet. So quiet my own thoughts seemed to be a little bit too loud for me.
All was going o.k. until I realized that my iPod battery was low and I needed to find my charger. Normally, it would be on a table or in a drawer. But because of the move, mine was in a box or a bag. It was a needle in a haystack. And as I looked at all the boxes and bags in the hallway, I started to cry and got all Veruca Salt-ish:
And if I don't get the things I am after
I'm going to scream!
(I wasn't singing this out loud, but I was singing it in my head pretty awesomely AND on key, I must say). The missing charger was symbolic that everything was once again different. The boxes and bags were symbols of the failure of a relationship. I was overwhelmed with emotion and feelings of defeat. Pardon me, perhaps you've seen my tail? Yeah it's me Eeyore.
It was SO easy and tempting to dwell on what I didn't have and what I had lost. But as I sat on the steps sobbing about my iPod. Yeah, I guess I earned my "over-dramatic" badge, but whatever! I suddenly burst out laughing. I'm crying about a missing iPod charger?!?!?!? If I told this story to someone in a third world country, would they even know what an iPod was??? My cheeks got hot from embarrassment from my own self-pity. I have a roof over my head, I have water to drink, and food to eat. Tons of people would love to have to dig through boxes and bags of clothes and stuff to find an iPod charger. Someone else can play hostess for this pity party, I need to run. Literally. The voice inside of my head was telling me to get my butt on the tredmill and run. And after thirty-THREEE (she said as she took a deep breath to keep from fainting. How did I get this old???) years of ignoring the voice, I'm long overdue to start listening. So I wiped my tears and took a deep breath. And funny what you remember when you calm down. . . . FOUND THE CHARGER!
Since I can't skip off to the gym for a morning workout, my mom's tredmill is going to be my new BFF. . . or enemy. It's nothing fancy but it beats running outside. Seriously NC, I don't know if I can handle this humidity much longer!
As I began to run, something strange happened. I got this strange burst of energy on the tredmill. I ran longer and faster than I have in YEARS. I realize you can't outrun your problems. But for thirty minutes a day. . . . it's nice to try. And it sounds cliche, but I felt better when I was done. I mean my heart was about to leap out of my chest and my legs felt like Pb. Pb is Nerduguese for Lead. I studied the Periodic Table of elements for a whole freakin' month in 1993. I WILL use that information at any opportunity possible. So if you don't like it, you can just take some Kr or some Fe and stick it where the sun don't shine. My eyes were red from tears coming out of them and sweat dripping in. But I FELT better. I couldn't help but think about something the great American philosopher, Elle Woods from Legally Blonde, said:
Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy.
Happy people just don't shoot their husbands, they just don't.
I'm not saying running fixed my problems. But it did make them a little bit more tolerable for a few hours. And for now. . . . I'll take it.
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