Get Loud!

Be louder than the negative voices in your head.

As a child, my parents threw me into every sport available on the planet. Soccer, baseball, volleyball, you name it; I’ve taken a crack at it. Throwing me into sports that I wasn’t any good at helped me in my, what seemed lifelong at the time, commitment to not exercising. I told myself that I didn’t need it and that gaining weight was a natural thing. However, there’s some point in all of our lives where the number on the scale needs to stop getting larger.

For those of you who’ve read my previous posts, you know that I’ve been through a weight loss journey, and that even though I could barley jog 5 steps in high school, I turned to running to help me lose weight as an adult. This isn’t the story that I want to retell. This is a summary of a new “triumph” that has taken place in my life recently that I think we can all learn from.

This past weekend, I ran a half marathon that I didn’t intend to run. I’ve ran half marathons before, but I trained for those races. This year, when my cousins asked me to run this particular half marathon, I told them, “no.” There really wasn’t a chance in hell that this would end well. For the past several months, I have been so preoccupied with other life happenings that I’ve let myself backslide into some unhealthy habits and limited exercise. I’ve just gotten to the point where I’m not as motivated anymore.

A few days before the half marathon, I told my cousins, “you know, even though I’m not running, I’d still like to come and cheer you on the morning of.” One of my cousins, Samantha, mentioned that along with the half marathon course there was a 10K (6 mile) course happening at the same time. I thought to myself, well, maybe I am strong enough for the 6 mile course. Sure, I haven’t ran in 6 months, but I’ve done Pilates and a few strength training exercises, I think I’ll be fine.

Even though I had plenty of lead time, race day came sooner than expected. I was scheduled to pick Samantha up at her apartment the morning of. And, of course, she was running late. After she was finally ready, I looked down at the clock when we climbed into the car and realized that we wouldn’t make the start time. “Its fine,” she said, “we’ll just start our 10K race when the half marathon starts. We’ll still run the right course.”

The gun went off for the half marathon, and there we went. “I’ll stick with you so that we both don’t miss the 10K exit,” she exclaimed. Perfect, this chick, who is one of the fastest people I’ve ever ran with, has decided to move her run time to sloth pace, instead of the preferred gazelle, just to make sure poor little me doesn’t get left behind. Wow, how helpless am I?

As we reached the two mile mark, we realized that the exits for the 10K were blocked off. There was no way we were going to be able to do the 10K course. Fuck. At the five mile mark, Samantha ditched me. We both realized at that point that we were going to have to run the half marathon whether we wanted to or not, and she was not about to sloth pace through the rest of it.

***

Mile 7, about half way finished. I could smell the gasoline as I past the local Mobile station. And, I could smell the breakfast menu from the restaurant down the street. I felt disgusted. A man on the sidelines cheered, “Way to go, you’re half way there!” and I wanted to slap him. I couldn’t possibly continue. I felt like I could barely breathe.

As cops and paramedics whizzed by me on their bikes and in their golf carts, it took every ounce of resistance I had not to yell, “Officer, help! I’m on the wrong course. Can I get a lift to the finish line? I don’t feel well.”

***

I’ve made it to mile 8…after walking a majority of mile 7. I notice a pile of vomit on the course. Whoever did that, I get you. We are one in the same.

***

I’m on mile 10 and I can’t believe I’ve made it this far. And then, I realize that I have another 5K left to run before I cross home plate. There is a man running next to me. He’s probably in his late 60’s. He’s decided that he’s fed up too, so he begins to power walk. I have slowed my jog to a crawl…that is apparently as fast as this man’s power walking speed. What’s the point of life?

***

Finally! We’re in the home stretch! There’s a man in front of me who is clearly having issues with his calf. He’s jogging with a limp, and I still can’t seem to pass him with my run/walk/jog routine.

***

Here we are, the finish line. The man with the calf issue is now skipping and limping, but he finishes strong…at the same time I do.

***

I surprisingly crossed the finish line and was only 12 minutes worse than the time I had the year before. I felt so low and disgusted with myself. How could I let all these people pass me? Why did I stop to walk? I never stop to walk! But, with “tragedy” comes a bit of clarity. I realized why I kept up with running when I started a few years ago. Throughout my younger years, I hated running because I always wanted to be faster than the people around me. It wasn’t until I realized that the only person you truly need to compete with while you run is yourself. Push yourself to finish, take it at your own pace. You don’t have to be better than the others around you, you just need to be louder than the negative voices in your head telling you to stop or that you can’t do it. There are so many people out there who don’t run because they think they’ll look stupid, or that you have to be an all-star athlete to run a mile. I’m living proof that you don’t have to. You just have to take it slow, and push yourself to be better than what you were yesterday.

It’s time to start getting louder than the voices in your head, because you’re worth it.

Granny Smith – over and out

New Years With Nerds

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If there’s anything I’ve noticed over the years it’s that true nerds are a different species. I suppose you could classify my boyfriend as a nerd, however, he has the social skills that most stereotypical nerds lack. I, of course, use the term ‘nerd’ endearingly. I adore many of the people who run in my boyfriend’s nerd gang. They’re beautiful souls, but we just don’t mesh.

I’m always reminded of this when I hang out with a lot of his friends at once. To give you an example of what it feels like when I’m with his group, imagine that you’re a middle class, white human living in New York, New York. All of as sudden, you’ve been transported to the heart of Mexico, and now you’re the minority. Sure, some people speak English, but pretend you’re in a city where their knowledge of English is bare minimum. See what I mean? I feel like I’m stuck with people who don’t speak my language, and no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to speak theirs. Sure, we know a few words, and we may have some similar values, but, the core of who we are is so different that we’ll never be able to figure each other out…unless one person becomes fluent in the other’s language.

For me, I’ve always struggled in the learning department. I’m not smart, and I will never claim to be knowledgeable in anything important. (Now, pop culture, that’s a different story). So, image me sitting at a table trying to insert myself into a conversation my man’s friends are having about nuclear energy and biomechanics. I’m lost. All I can do is say, “uh huh,” or “interesting.” Sometimes, I ask questions to try and better understand what they’re talking about, but half the time I can’t even remember what they were saying. I feel like I need a dictionary for every other word that comes out of their mouth.

Even when they’re drunk, they’re smarter than I am. They can play variations of chess and still win. (I’ve never played chess or checkers in my life. I tried to learn a few times as a kid and failed…miserably). What’s even worse is when they bring out the “fun” card games. Like ‘Smart Ass,’ for example. This game is all about reading clues from a card and trying to guess the person, place, or thing before everyone else does. And, you guessed it. When we played, I came in last. My brain just doesn’t operate on their level. It’s hard explaining the fact that I have a learning disability to a group of highly intelligent people who’ve never had an issue with comprehending information in their life, let alone people who have literally been made fun of for being able to comprehend said information so quickly and thoroughly.

I love that every soul on this Earth is different and unique, and I embrace other people’s cool. I was the weird kid growing up (and I still am), so I know what it’s like to not feel like you fit in or think that everyone around you doesn’t get you. I know what it’s like to have interests in things that other people don’t. I look forward to all of the different comments and perspectives that I receive from writing this blog (that’s one of the main reasons why I continue posting). So, ladies and gentlemen, my message is clear. Do you, and don’t forget to let your freak flag fly.

Granny Smith – over and out

A Childless Mother’s Day

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For those of you who live under a rock, yesterday was the famously Hallmarked, “Mother’s Day.” I spent a wonderful day with my mom and the rest of my family doing yard work, watching television, and eating ice cream! I can only hope that you all had just as wonderful of a day with your mothers and/or children. So, because yesterday was all about celebrating moms, I thought I would compose a post about how out of this world I felt not being a mother on Mother’s Day…or, just every day in general.

Yes, it’s controversial, and yes it’s a topic that’s been brought up before. If you’ve read TIME magazine within the last couple of months, you know that they ran a report regarding childless couples. In the report, TIME states that, “the birthrate in the U.S. is the lowest in recorded American history. From 2007 to 2011, the fertility rate declined 9%. A 2010 Pew Research report showed that childlessness has risen across all racial and ethnic groups, adding up to about 1 in 5 American women who end their childbearing years maternity free, compared with 1 in 10 in the 1970s.”

If you’re anything like me, you proudly raised your hand, and maybe even shouted, “That’s me!”when you heard the “1 in 5 American women statistic.” It’s no secret among my peers and family; I can’t stand kids. I’ve known since I was 12 years old that I didn’t want babies, and that I would do ANYTHING to make absolutely sure that a child never formed inside of me.  So, you might be asking, “Why 12? Why not before then?” In all honesty, I was on the fence. I knew deep down that I didn’t want children, but I had heard from older family members, the media, and my Barbie dolls how great having a family of your own was. And, I thought that maybe having one or two kids wouldn’t be so rough. I mean, it’s the American dream, right? Graduate from college, get a job, get married, start a family. I can’t tell you how many individuals I know from high school and college who are in their early 20’s and doing just that. In fact, I found out today that one of my married friends is pregnant, and another is engaged.

At this point, I feel the need to shrug my shoulders and sigh. Sometimes, I feel a bit awkward because I don’t want what everyone else seems to.  At the same time, many tell me that “I’ll change my mind.” But, I’ve felt this way for more than 10 years,  and every time I’m around a child (or anyone who is more than 5 years younger than me) I cringe and become very uncomfortable after about 15 minutes. Sure, babies and young kids are cute, but after a few moments, I’m more than ready to hand them back to their mother.

Also, let’s just say I can barely take care of myself. Do you really think I’d do well adding a helpless individual to the mix? No. I also have a short temper for ignorant idiots, I mean…kids. It’s not that I think all children are stupid, it’s just that I tend to get frustrated when kids can’t get on my level. We can’t have a conversation about the election? You don’t know the name of our Governor? Fine; get out of my face; I can’t handle you right now.

Needless to say, I’ve always wondered if a lot of us TRULY want to have children, or if we’ve all been brainwashed into thinking that our lives take this natural progression and having children is all a part of it. 

When I was a senior in college, one of my favorite professors told us a quick story about when she was a new mom that, I think, a lot of new mothers can relate to. She stated that after her oldest was born, she was so sleep deprived, frustrated, emotional, you name it! This new experience really upset her because she obviously and quickly began to realize that motherhood was less than a bed of roses. One day, she went to her mother’s house said, “Mom! Why didn’t you tell me motherhood was going to be this difficult and crazy?” To which her mother replied, “No one told me. It’s something every woman needs to figure out for themselves.”

What a slap to the face! Can we pause for a moment while I get my tubes tied?

But, in all seriousness, at the end of the day, it’s our mother’s that brought us into this world and have helped us grow, learn, and become who we are. I know that I’d be a complete mess without mine! Almost every woman has the physical capabilities to become a mother, but not every woman can be a mom. Happy Mother’s Day!

Granny Smith – over and out

Wanna Play 20 Questions?…Sort of…

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So, in spirit of the holiday season, I like to get nostalgic, think about what I really want out of life, etc.  A few days ago, I stumbled across a list of thought-provoking questions that my friend posted on her facebook page.

I thought it would be cool to share them with all of you! Who knows, maybe you guys will find these questions as interesting as I do and use them as conversation starters at your next holiday gathering.

Also, I love reading the comments that you all post on my blog! For this specific post, if you would like to share your answers to one (or more) of these questions, please do so in the comments section.

Without further ado, the questions are:
1. If you could make a 30 second speech to the entire world, what would you say?
2. If you were going to die at midnight, what would you be doing at 11:45 p.m.?
3. How do you really KNOW anything for sure?
4. If you had all the money in the world but still had to have some kind of job, what would you choose to do?
5. When you’re 90 years old, what will matter most to you?
6. What do you regret most so far in life?
7. How can you apply the lesson you learned from that regret to your life TODAY?
8. What would you change if you were told with 100% certainty that God does not exist? Or, if you don’t believe in God, that he does exist?
9. If you lost everything tomorrow, whose arms would you run to? Does that person know how much they mean to you?
10. Do you fear death? If so do you have a good reason?
11. What would you change if you knew you were NEVER going to die?
12. If you were at heaven’s gate and God asked you, “why should I let you in?,” what would you say?
13. When will you be good enough for you? Is there some breaking point where you will accept everything about yourself?
14. Is the country you live in really the best fit for you?
15. What would people say about you at your funeral?
16. What small thing could you do to make someone’s day better?
17. If you believe in God, would your relationship with God change at all if you were told with 100% certainty that he was actually a she?
18. What do you believe stands between you and complete happiness?

Granny Smith – over and out