Am I dead?
No, I don't think I'm dead.
I think I've gotten hella busy.
I'm going to continue being hella busy until Monday.
It's not that I've run of ideas. Oh no. Ideas. I have them.
On that note, I have gotten a few complaints from two of my *counts* six followers. That's 1/3 of you that actually care about my blogs. I'm so touched!
So here is what I have for you today:
As some of you may know I have begun a program called couch to 5k (C25K) so that I can train for marathons. I have been doing this... about a month and a half now. My progress is slow but steady due to some health and weight issues but these are not funny, or at least I haven't figured out how to make them funny, so I won't go into it.
This means I'm spending some time at the gym, running on treadmills. Don't give me the "Oh, you should run outside" bit. Running is a chore for me right now, and my abilities are limited. What basically gets me through is being in a climate controlled environment with a TV to distract me from counting down seconds.
Tangent: I'm so sick of when I mention that I'm exercising or dieting and people start immediately lecturing on what I should and shouldn't do. If I want your advice, I'll ask for it. Frankly, until then, I don't give a crap what you have to say. Unless it's encouraging. That's nice. /tangent.
My anxieties tend to be fairly common, though often the reasoning behind the anxiety may not be. I'm a fairly clumsy person and my balance is less than stellar. I tend to 'go' in the direction that I'm looking.
I am terrified of falling while on the treadmill.
It's not because I'm afraid of busting my teeth out of my mouth or breaking my leg. No, nothing like that. I mean, it wouldn't be pleasant. It's not that I crave injuries, I just don't live in fear of avoiding them more or less than the average person (I'm assuming).
It's because I'm super concerned about people seeing me fall. For me, the idea that people that I see every other day would show up and forever know me as that fat girl that ate it on the treadmill is terrifying.
One time not too long ago I got dropped off by a friend. I was returning from vacation and being loathe to take more than one trip back and forth I opted to carry my stuff piled high. I missed a step and fell, skinning my knees, shins and hands after I dropped everything. My immediate concern became "Holy beans, I hope my friend didn't see me do that." So I flipped around and sat on the step to see that by some miracle he hadn't pulled out enough to see around the garage where I was.
Seconds later he pulled out and I waved nonchalantly as though I had fully intended to sit on the step and that I hadn't ended up there by accident. As soon as he was out of sight I moved my items and tended to my wounds.