Tag Archives: friday

Friday

25 Apr

Is waiting for Friday a bad way to live?  I am all about making the most of each day, having fun, squeezing the life out of it…but once spring fever sets in, I am kind of a mess. Even though I am appreciating each day, in the back of my mind, I am just waiting for Friday to arrive.  When the alarm goes off Monday morning, I literally think, “Only four days until Friday” before I am even out of bed.  This is a terrible way to live, but it does kind of give you a short term goal…make it to Friday.  And if I get through to enough Fridays, it will be summer!  I live for summer, the beach, the unscheduled time, the late nights, the visitors, the fun.  I am counting down.

Is this not like working toward a long term goal?  Work through Monday, Tuesday, Wed…and you achieve your goal of Friday!  Whew.  I used to like goals.  I was hyper focused on them and achieved  many because I was focused.  I enjoyed the satisfaction, but not the process.  I’m more focused on the process now…probably a little too much because I hardly even make grocery lists, I haven’t seriously trained for a race for over three years (although I have run plenty…I just haven’t trained properly…totally different experience), and I refuse to clean my car..to the offense of my neighbors…

Today is Wednesday, I am going to focus on Thursday for all it has to offer, but holy lands, I want Friday here already.  Doesn’t just saying, “Friday” make you smile?  Try “summer” and you will be smiling for hours.

You Have Feet in Your Shoes

23 Feb

I wore two shoes tonight.  Ha, funny.  I know what you are thinking.  For me, this is a big deal.  Doc said athletic shoe should be worn on Peg Leg by this weekend.  I figured Friday evening is this weekend and slipped off sexy slipper and on my new running shoe.  Yuck!  This feels terrible, scary, insecure and it kind of hurts.  These bones, ligaments and muscles are not used to pressure and weight.  I am limping.

A limp looks great with jeans and black trail running shoes with neon pink and green accents.   What do you wear with these?  I have never cared what my running shoes look like, just cared how they feel.  No one notices your shoes when they are caked with dirt and out on the lonely trails.  Now I notice them.  Gross.  But, maybe not as gross as the sexy sandal.  And, yes, I am still elated to not be lugging around Das Boot.  My sense of fashion is just a little challenged with the athletic shoe appendage.

I went to a great lunch to celebrate a friend’s birthday today at a small cafe in a quaint town nearby.  I felt really old when we first sat down.  Not because I am older than my pals, but because they were all inquiring about my Peg Leg and I was obliging them.  This is totally what old people do.  They lament, in great detail, their physical ailments and doctor appointments.  I am not yet into my fourth decade (ahem, ya, I may be bragging a little bit), yet I realized, that is me!  Holy cow.  Has five weeks of an injury really brought me to a screeching halt?  I have nothing else to offer?  Where did I go?   I think I used to be witty and had lots of interesting topics to discuss.  Instead, I segued nicely into asking about a friend’s knee injury (she tripped over a kid at a haunted house and tweaked her knee badly…this is a true and interesting story).  Again, though, this is what old people do.  Ailments, doctor appointments and medication are the main topics of conversation.

I am hardly done with Peg Leg, but I have a shoe. I hid Das Boot under my bed.  I am slow.  I hobble.  But, I am moving on.  I am young and free (he, he, he).  Come with me on a new journey.  Bring your running shoes or your George Foreman Grill.  We will get there on a trail or recipe, by recipe.  Mscooksalot might even join the gym to exercise with me…pressure is on.  Limitations are exhausting.  Peg Legs can limp to fun and excitement and stories about living life rather than slowing down.  I’m too young for this shit.

Another one from the best:  You have brains in your head.  You have feet in your shoes.  You can steer yourself in any direction you choose.  You’re on your own, and you know what you know. And you are the  guy who’ll decide where to go.  -Dr. Seuss

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