My Crazy Wonderful Life

So things have been rather hectic lately. I haven’t been as consistent in a lot of my endeavors as I would like. I have a lot of black boxes on my running spreadsheet. I ate an entire big bag of doritos yesterday. I didn’t post any sort of blog at all last week. My life is in shambles.

But the only thing you can do is pick yourself up and get back on track. Tomorrow is a new day. And I can already put a nice blue box on my running spreadsheet because today was a rest day so I’m on track for that. I did eat a doughnut and a bunch of oreos today though. Baby steps.

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Me? An Athlete?

I never really thought of myself as an athlete before. Whenever someone asked me if I did any sports I’d say horseback riding. “That’s not a sport.” They’d reply. “Yes it is. You’re obviously too stupid to be alive.” And then I would never speak to that person again. Actually I had more substantial arguments than that. But even though I had a lot of great arguments as to why riding was a sport, I never treated it like one. Sure I went out and rode everyday. I had a plan for my horse’s fitness and schooling, and I followed it. But I neglected a very important member of the team. Me. I need to hold myself to the same level of athleticism that I ask from my horse. But that’s the extra hard part, because I don’t really know what athleticism in me looks like, feels like, or tastes like.

I can look at a person running and tell if they’re fit. I can look at a person walking and tell if they’re fit. i can look at a person sitting on a couch and tell if they’re fit. But I can’t feel how fit I am. Despite being at my lowest adult weight (I’m assuming. I don’t keep scales around. Scales are dumb) and running the most consistently I ever have, I don’t feel fit. I feel tired and hungry. And right now I really, really want some juice. The fittest I’ve ever felt was when I was lifting three times a week and riding two horses a day, before I went to Blacksburg. I must be fitter now, what with all the straw stalls I’m mucking daily, but I always feel like I want a nap. Maybe I’m not doing it right.

Of course my sleepiness could be from this ongoing battle I’m having with my brain. My body wakes up when it thinks I’ve had enough sleep. My brain disagrees. My brain is like “the alarm doesn’t go off for another hour and a half go back to sleep” but my body is like “nope. It’s 4am. Let’s be awake.” And then during the day if I stop moving for more than 5 minutes (like in the horse van coming back from schooling), I’m ready for a nap. But when I get home and actually have time for a nap, I have a gajillion other things to do (like eating chicken that is shaped like a dinosaur) so no naps for Bri. Sleep isn’t really necessary to be an athlete right?

I need to get on Lego’s level. I work him at least 15 minutes a day. I need to work myself at least that much. I make sure that my horse gets the best nutrition that I can give him. I need to stop eating candy because I’m sad, tired, or lonely. I need to get my life together and plan better so that I don’t end up doing laundry at 10pm when I should be sleeping. I don’t want to feel like I let Lego down. And a groggy, hungry, or weak Bri is going to let him down.

My Mid-Working Student Stint Crisis

So I’ve had a weird couple of weeks. I went to a wedding this weekend. That wasn’t the weird part. The weird part was how my schedule got all screwy and took my life with it.

When my friend Colleen got engaged, I promised her that I would wear a specific dress to her wedding. I asked my grandmother to make me the dress but I asked her when I was a size 12. Fast forward to a week before said wedding, and I’m on the phone with her while wearing size 6 jeans. I was nervous. I came home to get refitted, and to hang out with some people I missed. It was a great trip home albeit very short, but in retrospect I think it wasn’t the best idea.

I left home later in the day than I wanted to. The three-hour drive was easy as far as traffic goes, but emotionally I was a wreck. I did not want to go back to work. It’s a damn good thing that Lego was still up in Coatesville because I would have called it quits right then. But I forced myself north through tears and a lot of probably unnecessary drama.

I got back to Coatesville an hour past my bedtime. My room was piled high with crap, so much that I could not see the floor. My fridge was basically empty. Despite the late hour, I got all my stuff ready for the next day because I knew it was going to be a rough morning the next day.

And it was. I forgot my lunch. The candy I had for breakfast made my tummy hurt. And I started bawling while doing stalls. Always a great sign. I talked to Jane about it. And in typical tough love Jane fashion, she got me to take responsibility for the whole crappy situation, with a lot of sobbing on my part. Which is good (the responsibility part, not the sobbing). It’s what I needed. That doesn’t mean I liked it. It doesn’t mean that I didn’t use an ungodly amount of tissues.

So I got it together. Not immediately of course. I forgot my lunch the next two days too. Luckily Alyssa always brings candy or cookies. I balanced those out by eating spinach for my other meals. But I cut down on the sugar. I ran. I unearthed some of my floor.

On Saturday, I met my parents to pick up my dress. They bought me dinner. The leftovers are in my fridge. Did I mention that my parents are perfect? I went to the wedding and had an absolutely wonderful time. I watched the most perfect couple I know, Colleen and Steven get married. I saw friends I hadn’t seen in years. We ate a lot of food. And I danced like an absolutely spastic maniac.

So now I’m sitting in my room, admiring the floor that I unearthed, and feeling pretty content. My room is clean. My fridge is full (thanks to my parents). And I’m back on track working my way towards my goals.