The electric toothbrush. Gold Jerry! Gold! Sigh…. oh how I miss mine. ((I am judging you if you did not know that was from Seinfeld))
Marathons are hard. Like, REALLY hard. Like even if you do all your long runs, all your speed work, all your hill training, all your runs, they are really *insert word that rhymes with ducking* hard.
One should not underestimate the awesomeness of a boy’s hand grabbing your hand.
Time seems to have no relevance on vacation. Minutes, hours, days… nope, they mean nothing. For example, it’s 1:15am right… so be it.
There is an app to track planes in the sky. Like, you hold it up to the sky, and it tells you where the plane is heading. Why does this matter? Because I ALWAYS stare at planes and wonder where the plane is going. Technology blows my mind. Especially cameras. But especially planes. [[Plane Finder —> the app]]
It is possible for Lovers in a dangerous time to be stuck in your head simultaneously with the ninja turtle theme song.
Boys make you fat. Not intended, but they do. He’ll order a pizza… and I’ll be all stupid and naive, and then go be all like: oh, but then I don’t want to pretend I’m a happy bunny that was going to order a salad and gnaw on it without complaint, server! make that *two* pizzas thankyouverymuch. FAIL.
Emailing family and friends has proven to be hard.
Keeping up with this Blog (for me. not you) has proven harder. Everything will come soon. I think when I travel alone (off to London next, then to Nepal), it’ll be a lot easier to find time to blog and write or write and blog.
The world is tiny. I was recognized right before the Berlin marathon (in my coral!) by a fine looking gentleman from the Baltics. He calmed my nerves and got me excited for the run. World? Small.
We live once. I want a story when I die. I don’t know, I know that sounds messed up and lame, and all that jazz, but I do, I want to have lived.
I am a-ok with being naked. Deal. I just learnt to.
It’s easier said than done, saying you’ll just show up in a city and find a place to stay, and then things to do. On that note, arriving during the day is key.
Very rich people seem to really like the colour white. And, they seem to bring their dogs on vacation with them, which all seem to have perfect manners.
New bucket list goal: topless beach. Woot - why I never…
Sometimes I whine.
Also, I have drunk more wine in the last 3 days than probably in the last year combined. So delicious.
The iPhone’s camera? awful. Now that I’ve been going SLR at it I’ve really noticed the difference, and must apologize for the quality of photos over the last fews months.
It’s still terrifying to put an “underwater camera” underwater - what if it leakkks?!?
Fish touching me won’t kill me. Fish touching me won’t kill me. Fish touching me won’t kill me. Fish touching me won’t kill me. Fish touching me won’t kill me.
I bite my lip when I’m happy.
I am officially trademarking making out in alley ways.
My sister. My brother. My mom. My dad. I can’t allow myself to think of home, because if I do? E to the Mo to the Tional.
Marble that is is hundreds of years old becomes very slippery. Very.
I am worth it. This. Everything. sucks for you if you thought I wasn’t…
It’s 4am in Croatia - can’t sleep. Which has pretty much been the theme of this trip. Not that I’m worried about that. Naps are plentiful and life isn’t stressful [[how much do you hate me right now? :) ]]. Tomorrow marks one week of being gone from home. I think about home a lot. The people. I really miss the people.
Berlin seems like a dream. It went by so fast leaving me with a gorgeous marathon medal sitting on my bed side table. That, along with a minor beer bier hangover, and a collection of photos with some great friends is all the proof I have it happened.
OH, and, I think I’ve lost weight too. I know, I know, perhaps better people in this world wouldn’t be thinking about their weight, given this trip that surrounds me, but I am - always am. No scale to confirm whether it’s true, and I’ve known to be completely wrong when I thought this before, but I do think I have (woot) - being too busy to eat will do that to you (stupid weight loss, still being all about not eating delicious, ass-enhancing foods).
Actually, so far on this trip my body and I have been a team. The other night, before a shower, I stared at my body in all its naked glory (tmi? deal) and something was different. I just saw it as me - I didn’t see the flaws I usually notice, I didn’t turn to the side and suck in, I didn’t envision another body for myself - I simply saw me; a marathon runner, a twenty six year old girl, a normal person, a person who wasn’t ugly, self critical, self analyzing. It was what it was, and I was okay with that (p.r.o.g.r.e.s.s. people. Pro-gress).
The boy in Croatia helps too (btw. for those who asked. he came with me. I didn’t meet him here). He’s so flattering. So kind. So into me… me(!). He won’t let me get away with my usual shennanigans either. Lights off. Eyes away. No touching of the stomach area thankyouverymuch. He makes me feel beautiful. Last night, in Croatia, walking down Split’s waterfront, he seemed proud to be with me. I’ve never felt that from anyone before… so yes, life is good.
I was going to do a post on where Little Blog was heading, y’know, now that I’m traveling until at least December and don’t have an iPhone glued to my hand, or a computer a stones throw away, but the truth is, I don’t know. It’s harder to find time to write than I thought it would be, and the Internet is usually limited, but I love blogging, I love writing, so I’m going to try my best.
It’s now nearly 4:15, so I should sleep - going to try update more tomorrow, and share the longest, yet at the same time shortest, 5 hours and 10 minutes of my life. Now please excuse me as I dream-reminisce (shut it you, that’s a thing) about how I’ve run 3 full marathons, and am in Croatia, with a pretty boy to my side.
For all you non-runners out there, “race expos” are where you pick up your race bib and time chip, and they’re usually filled with lots of fun, awesome (crazy expensive!) running goodies.
I’d recount the exact details of it for you, but a) that be all sorts of boring, and b) I forget it, as yesterday was quite the blur (re: 32 hours straight being awake).
But here some magical photos from yesterday which I found on my camera this morning, complete with all-you-need-to-know captions.
Ta-Da! Wanna follow me run? What’s that? You don’t want to get up at 3am your time? Psssh, don’t lie, you so do… I think you can go here and input my bib# to see me, that is, if you know German.
Fingers crossed and happy vibes for sub 5 pleaseeeeee - eeek, so nervous!
Oh! Oh! Looooook at who I met up with! The Mr. Robert himself. You can follow him too. He’ll be faster than me, but that doesn’t necessarily mean more awesome.
I spent 55euros (rip. off) on the blue/yellow sweater in the foreground. Maybe it’ll make me run like her… maybe, just maybe.
The route. This means as much to you, as it does to me - every corner will be a big surprise tomorrow.
Done and done.
THEN, to make another long story I don’t remember, short, we hit the town to carb load. This, without a doubt is my favourite part of marathons - tied, of course, with crossing the finish line and crying into the stranger who gives me my medal’s shoulder - always a very touching and not awkward moment.
NOM. Let it be known - this was the marathon special pasta fiesta. Three of us dove into this baby like it was our jobs, although yes, yes it’s true, I probably could have eaten it by myself. I’m talented like that.
Perfect evening, despite being a zombie with red eyes for 99.999% of it.
In the car ride to the airport, my sister handed me a little box. In it was the above, beautiful, pendent engraved with the letter ‘e’ on the one side, and the words, ‘All Glory Comes from Daring to Begin” on the other.
I will wear it close to my heart, along with the maple leaf charm my best friend got me for the duration of my trip.
Thursday was hard. Leaving home was hard. The airport was hard.
I stayed with my family until the last possible second and literally had to run to my plane as it was boarding. I had a moment where I turned around and looked back, tears streaming down my face, and wanted to run back to my family’s waves.
I wanted to stay. The unknown was just so great. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do; saying goodbye to the people who are my life.
I had a window seat on the plane, and after the lights went out, I turned to the window and was silently crying, biting air to stop me from gasping out loud. The little, old Indian woman next to me didn’t know what to do – so she tapped her husband across the isle and asked him to,“ask her what’s wrong.” Luckily, he didn’t. I wouldn’t have been able to speak.
I got no sleep the entire plane ride, and ended up staying up for 32 hours straight, which didn’t help the whole emotional basket case thing.
But. Berlin is good. So good. I was in Berlin in 2003 and actually hated the city, however it’s redeemed itself for me. The place I’m staying? Gorgeous. And cheap. And pretty. And chances are it’s the nicest place I’ll stay this entire trip. It’s also nice being surrounded by my running group (26 of us here!), which has made the transition fairly easy - I’m thankful for that.
So so thankful. For everything, actually. The fact this trip, which I’ve been planning since I was 18, is actually happening? surreal. Not to mention the little detail of, umm, I’m running a full marathon in less than 24 hours. Incredible . Incredible what we can do if we put how mind to it.
It’s done! HUGE high five and fist pumps all around, because this has been a long process, and a lot of work, but tonight, finally, it’s done-diddly-done!!!.
Here’s EVERYTHING. Aka, my life for the next few months.
Terrifying, no? Those square things are compartments (click here for the link to them) that I luckily scored to help organize The Pack. They insert beautifully into it, so I don’t have to yank out my Everest hiking stuff, or running stuff, when I’m simply looking for my bathing suit.
Anywho, let’s break it down, shall we?
Hiking Boots Hiking Pants (shorts/pants convertible) 3 long sleeve tops Leggings Long underwear Sleeping bag liner Hat [note: I am buying a jacket/gloves/sleeping in Nepal and sweaters/layers/waterproof jacket are in other compartments] [2nd note: this stuff is being sent to London first, I am picking it up after Croatia, but before Nepal]
Dresses and Sweaters
4 Dresses 1 thick sweater (wearing on plane) 1 medium sweater 2 light cardigans 1 Waterproof jacket
Running Stuff and Delicates
See this post for running stuff (note: I am taking this on the plane with me in-case my luggage gets lost) 2 bras (including the one I’ll wear on the plane) 2 bathing suits (fine! 3 including that bikini thing, but it will probs never see light) 4 pairs of socks
Washroom Love / Medication
Contacts ((word from the wise: if you wear contacts, and you’re going on a trip, do NOT use dailys. I overlooked this detail and have to take 200+ contacts with me. UGH)) Tampons/pads/lady things Toothbrush/paste Shampoo Conditioner Body wash Deodorant Q tips Travel tide Razor Scissors Birth control Insect stuff Advil Stomach stuff Altitude medication (prescribed) Altitude puffer (prescribed) Bad Stomach meds (prescribed) Malaria pills ((prescribed) Sleeping pills Ear plugs Travel dryer Face clothes Hair brush Quick drying compact towel
Laptop Charger Sony SLR Camera Spare battery for SLR Lens cleaner Panasonic water/shock/freeze proof camera Camera chargers (2) Plug converter Ear phones Extra laptop storage Garmin connector iPod / charger [note: NO PHONE OMIGOD HOW WILL I SURVIVE]
Odds n’ Ends
Glasses Sunglasses Hair ties / clips Flash light Mirror Locks Sewing kit watch Money pouch waterproof back back cover Nail clippers Makeup: eyeshadow / eye liner / mascara Laundry bag (not pictured)
Passport Binder of awesome (confirmations: marathon/flights/lists/resos/insurance #s etc) Credit card - Main Credit card - not activated Debit card - for travel, which feeds through the visa system Vaccination card Extra passport photos US / CND / EU cash
55 litre back pack Small carry on pack (only with me till pit-stop in London) Leather bag - main purse
Did I miss anything?!? Eeeeek soooo scary, yet so exciting!! And, thank you so much for all your kind comments on my I-AM-FREAKING-OUT-POST, I read them all today and they def helped.
Next question —> What’s your favourite movie of all time? I’m downloading lots for my trip, and don’t worry about me having seen it, as I’m so not a movie person so 99.9% chance I haven’t seen your favourite.
i’m scared i’ve made the wrong decision, that leaving my home, the people i know, my job, my routine, my life will be too hard. it’s terrifying. i’m really really scared. nobody every tells the truth, people always lie and say everything will be okay, but sometimes it isn’t. what if this is a huge mistake? what if i lose all my money, can’t find a job in london, make no friends, can’t create a life? i’m so scared i’ll get homesick, or feel lonely surrounded by people. i’m scared i’m running from something that isn’t here, or looking for something that doesn’t exist.
people never tell you the truth, they always lie and say everything will be okay. it’s easier that way. but what if everything won’t be okay?
i’m scared i’m going to be too self conscious to do things. that my weight will still be an issue. i packed three bathing suits. but one is a two piece, which i know in my heart I won’t wear. i couldn’t wear. i’m so scared of gaining weight back too. my history with travel and weight is terrible. all i want to do is not worry.
i’m so scared this is the wrong decision. that i won’t like some of the countries. that i’ll run out of money. that i’ll perpetually miss my old life. that this leap of faith shouldn’t have been in my cards. i’m also scared it’s so public. that you, the person on the opposite side of the screen will judge me. what if things go badly. it’s so public.
i don’t want to be lost, i don’t want to be looking, i just want to be. but i don’t think i’ll know how to do it. as the hours are ticking by, my insecurities are creeping to the surface, and as i write this tears stain my cheeks because of the unknown.
i’m so scared. but i shouldn’t worry, because everything will be okay. right?
A break! A break. I get to take a break, because holy hell my day has been busy. I had all these magical plans of being done packing at least a week before I leave, so y’know, I could frolic around and do as I please, but obviously I am such a procrastinator, fine! a lazy-procrastinator (the. worst.) which has left me running around the final two days, when all I want to do is join Obama doing this. Sigh.
So today this happened.
I couldn’t see it as AOL.ca is apparently different from AOL.com (rude.), but luckily I have friends in high places who took screen shots for me. I nearly fell off my chair when I saw they featured the before photo… But. But it’s truly been humbling. Thank you so much for all the emails, comments and kind words, I so appreciate the kindness of all you Internet souls.
I read every email, comment, message etc., and tried to respond to as many as possible (and still will try), but sadly with packing, I fell behind. However, I did want to say this: I saw myself in so many people who wrote me, looking, searching, trying to find the secret to weight loss, asking me to motivate them, help them, asking me for exactly what I ate, what my rules were etc. And oh how I wish I knew all the answers… I’d then be mega rich and write a book. Although, wait, the book would have, like, 4 pages in it:
Page 1: Eat less Page 2: Move more Page 3: Repeat Page 4: The end
Pulitzer prize book right there. Sadly, my dear fellow foodies, there is no secret, you just, well, have to do it, and by do it, I mean eat less and move more (easier said than done, I know. Le sigh).
So, this morning I went horse riding. We won’t dwell on how my heart hurts leaving my horse, and the fields, and The Sister, and then the deadly combination of the horse, the fields and The Sister, which I was THIS CLOSE **squeezes two fingers together** to staying for. It was awesome. The day was perfect. I will greatly miss it.
Then I ran. 6km (which is 3.14578293 miles - not really, I was trying to remember pie) to be exact. It was the LAST tempo run of the Berlin Marathon season. OMG TIME HAS GONE SO FAST.
Then, I came home and cleaned and scrubbed and organized and packed and listened to loud music and sang my heart out. Jealous? Whatever. You should be. Especially as I found a billion dollars worth of diet books which I NEVER once used. Such a hopeful eater I once I was…
And now you are updated on me. Boom. In 48 hours I’ll be on a plane…
Because I’m a complete Internet savvy gal (false. people told me) I stumbled across my Huffington Post article on aol.com (second false: I saw a screen shot of the USA one, as I live in Canadia-land). Welcome! It’s always weird with these things, as I feel the need to tell the newcomers I’m somewhat cool (you know it’s true when I have to tell you) and a little about myself, but really, if you read the article, you already know so much.
But-but-but, here 5 quick things you should know about me:
I just quit my very-financy-corporate-job after 4 years to pack up my life and MOVE to London, England. No friends. No job. No house. But, before I get to London I’m heading to Croatia, Nepal (Base Camp Everest Baby), and then pretty much all of S E Asia - and yup, 90% of it is alone. Shall we call this my 1/4 life crisis? Hushhhhh you.
I’m running the Berlin Marathon this Sunday (prays please, as I’m sooo scared) and my very-public-omigod-why-am-I-telling-people-this goal is to run it in under 5 hours. I’m really nervous about it.
I still want to lose weight, and yes, get to 125. It. Will. Happen. I know it will. That we manifest is before us…
I’m VERY honest and open, and yes, will tell and confess the dark and crappy things about being over weight, because y’know what? sometimes being over weight sucks and is hard and isn’t fun - especially if you’re a girl in today’s society. Being over weight is the one vice that when you step out the door, everyone knows you have, so yea, it gets hard.
narcissism in its finest form. just because. it's my blog and i can write what i want to.
I ride horses. Actually I’m really good at riding horses.
I have really good nails. They grow fast, which is excellent, as I bite mine.
And my hair? despite the annoying frizz, it’s thick, I like that, especially as I shed a kazillion hairs a day.
I run. Like, as in, marathons. As in 42.2kms. As in that distance that only crazy people run.
With the exception of my weight (stupid 125), whenever I set a goal for myself I usually accomplish it.
I love food. Everything about it. The reservations, the anticipation, the ambiance, the table bread, the company, the wine, the courses. I often think people who aren’t foodies miss out in life.
I’m educated. Although I know I’d like to get my MBA someday, I’m pleased my parents forced me to go to university.
I have had a wicked cliche stock market job, it paid well, I was thankful for that, oh and that it never came home with me.
I like things off the beaten track - I consider this an asset in others, and so in me too, I suppose.
Spontaneity. True, nearly everyone and their mother thinks this about themselves, but I really think I am. (so they all say! <— you)
I’m willing to try pretty much anything (exception: food. I’m actually a crazy-picky eater and am actually going full vegetarian for my coming trip)
People seem to like my writing/blog. Wonderful side affect of being over weight, and I am truly so grateful for this.
I’m super lazy and can literally stay in bed all day (re: last sunday). I give people the side eye who don’t have these sorts of days occasionally.
I rarely get sick. Probably because my standards are quite low —>10 second rule people.
Although I have a little family (just 5 of us total in this world - no cousins/aunts/uncles/grandparents) I love my little family very very much.
I take chances and risks and have realized this is it, my one life, gotta make it count yo. Pleased I figured this out at 25, and not 52.
I’m learning. I can see a HUGE change in myself from 2 years ago, so much so I’m nearly a different person. I hope I continue to grow, learn, and live.
I carry my weight well. Although I sometimes feel like an egg, I am thankful my slim limbs and face make me appear smaller than I am (exception: bathing suit / naked time).
I truly with all my heart believe things happen for a reason (I didn’t used to, but learned this when lots of bad things turned into good things, and in hindsight, were the best things for me).
I wear my heart on my sleeve. This has proven to be a hard thing too, but I’m pleased I’m always willing to find love. Open to it at least…
I trust people. Again, probably too much, but I’d prefer it this way, as apposed to beedy eyeing every passer by.
I think this blog may have helped people. From the emails and comments and messages I’ve received I do think this. And, considering I struggle so much with my weight and self perception, I am so genuinely pleased others have learned from my mistakes, thoughts, and life ~ thank you.
Dear Anon Hater, put this baby in your pipe and smoke it. Boom. Love Liz
Good morning chicklets (<— that’s you btw), and how are you today? I trust this post finds you well. I too, am well indeed, I am. It’s odd not having a job. Knowing every dollar I now spend won’t get reimbursed (so to speak)? weirrrrrddddd. But as of right now, and, well, the next few months we’ll just call this whole draining-my-bank-account-very-unemployed-1/4-life-crisis-thing selffunemployed, mmmkay? excellent.
Today is a day of errands. Lots and lots of errands, and for reals, everything seems to be on opposite sides of town. How rude. So it looks like it’ll be a long day of travel (just me and my automobile, Vanny, cruisin’ the roads) and bargaining (except not, as I don’t do bargaining). Keep me company on twitter? you want to? excellent.
But I am excited! So, so excited! I leave this Thursday at 6:10pm. OHMYGOD HOW DID TIME MOVE SO QUICKLY?! The first month off is jammed packed and will most likely go by in a flash. Ready for my itinerary? Berlin (marathon baby), Croatia (where this week’s temperature is a delightful 28 degrees, woot!), then London-Town for two nights (for laundry, and sleep, and exchanging of some goods), before the real deal hits, and I have 24 hours of travel from London to Nepal. Huh. That’s gonna suck. But then I’m hiking to Base Camp on Mt. Everest. EVEREST PEOPLE EVEREST, where, I will admit, I googled if they have Internet, and because the world is insane these days, they do, SO I am soooo going to make a post from Mt. Everest, just because I can.
Reading that back, for a lazy girl who *really* hates the cold, this is going to be, umm, interesting….
Anywho, let’s get this show on the road, first stop? Tim Hortons. Obviously.
1 week today. 42.2km. Or. 26.2 miles for my American friends. That’s a really (really) long way. For you. For me. For anyone. It’s the perfect distance to push yourself through your physical limit, through the pain, and towards your personal goal set months before.
It’s a 32km warm up run, for a 10km race. That last 10km. My God, they suck. I can’t stop thinking about them. I’m so scared. Already anticipating the pain. The doubt. The fear. That last 10km can ruin you.
And so I write to myself, an open letter to remember. To remember during that last 10 km of pain, doubt, and fear:
10km. That’s it. That’s all that lies ahead of you. Just, keep, running.
Your body can do it. Know that. Your head just has to believe it. Don’t walk. You don’t need to walk. Walking is all in your head. Find your groove. Your pace. And just, keep, running.
And believe. You have to believe you can do it. Why? Because you can. You have put hours and hours and kilometers and kilometers into this season, missing not even a handful of runs. You are ready. So, so ready. You are strong. So, so strong. You can do this. I promise you that. You have overcome so much. Are lighter than any previous marathon. Have trained. Are capable. So, so capable.
Be proud. Of each step you’ve taken. And the ones still to come.
Remember when you thought 5kms was a marathon? When you had no concept of distances? Didn’t know the difference between a km or mile? That you thought runners were ‘insane,’ and didn’t even dream of running a marathon, because it wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities for you? Remember when… you, my dear self, have come so far.
Please know that weight is just a number. And that sizes are simply measurements. But crossing the finish line of a marathon? Accomplishing something you never imagined? So much better than that goal weight or that dream dress. It’s success. You have won.
No matter what happens a week from today, please know that the girl on this side of the race is proud of you, despite the moments of self doubt, and yes, sometimes self hate, she is so, so proud of you and dare I be that lame? but loves you too.
hello. over there, hello to you. so i am tipsy. and/or drunk. usually i hate posts that start with that. but let’s go honest at it, shall we? and we’ll leave it up to an arbitrator to solve the debate over tipsy or drunk. mmmkay? this is so not the right post to welcome new people to my blog, but frankly, i don’t care. today was a good day. 2nd last day of work. ever? well, at least for a while… work bid me farewell with shots and beer and did I mention jagerbomb shots? because 6 of them later…. a boy from work asked me to stay over. i said no. because wha? but he was sweet. really. he was. another boy cornered me and told me i was pretty. i used to like that one, and so i smiled at him and asked, why now? he responded, I was scared. of what? you, and your smile, was his answer. i wonder how many missed opportunities happen in this world because people are scared. stupid question right there, because obviously lots. oh what a shame! so life is good. i am happy. a week tonight, right now, this moment, i’ll be on plane to berlin for my marathon. and then my trip. big trip. i’m so scared i’m looking for something. hoping for something. searching for something. when it doesn’t exist. when something won’t happen. or realizing that what i’m looking for actually is surrounding me right now. what if. but life is good. chances will be made. risks will be taken. i always feel the need to somehow tie my weight back to this little blog, because, well, it’s about me and my weight after all, but not tonight, not right now, i don’t want to. this trip coming up? it’s about me. two hundred pounds. or one twenty five. it really wont’ matter. i want to see things. meet people. believe in the world around me. gain faith in you, and society. i’m so scared. yet so, so excited.
A new girl started in my office this week (a girl? yes! a girl! Score! As that meant I had a female companion for the 1st time in 4+ years.). Obviously I scrambled to be her office-bff asap, taking her under my wing, showing her the ropes, and passing on my wisdom before I leave.
Anywho, so this morning? This morning we headed down the elevator together, talking about this n’ that n’ this. She mentioned she wanted to lose some weight, as she had “gained 50ish pounds in the last year." Oh Lordy, I understand that! So I instantly told her I had lost some weight, how I now ran, and how I still want to lose some more.
See? we bonded.
And like every other overweight person in this world, she excitedly asked, “how did you do it?!" and so I told her the secret and gave her the key, "I had to eat less, even with all the running and stuff, I simply had to eat less."
She told me how much she loved food, and I told her how much I loved food and being horizontal. Girl after my own heart she is. And so we continued walking n’ talking n’ bonding all the way to Starbucks.
In line I told her of Starbucks’ spinach, feta, egg-white wrap, and how delicious, and filling, and some-what-healthy-yet-tastes-unhealthy it was. We were 4 people away from the front of the line, when she looked at me, and suddenly said, I’m going to McDonalds, meet me after?” I was a little confused but said yup.
On the way back to the office I asked her what she got. She had ordered the bacon and egg bagel, 2 hash browns, and an orange juice.
It was weird, I must say, as she had literally just been telling me she wanted to lose weight, and asking me for advice on how to do it.
I realize the above may sound all judgy, and sure, maybe it is, but-but-but at the same time, I somewhat admired her. She obviously didn’t care what I thought, whereas I always care what people think. Always.
It also made me realize how this weight loss thing is all in one’s head. She told me in the elevator, "I want to lose weight," but obviously those were just words, and until she (or anyone / me ) turns those words into actions, they really won’t mean that much, actually anything at all.
What? What was that? Why isn’t this car passing me?
Pump. Stride. Breath.
I fought the urge to turn and see, y’know, play it cool for a few strides. But eventually my curiosity got the better of me…
And there it was, a car filled with five twenty-something guys all staring at me. Looking at me. Laughing at me.
Pump. Stride. Breath. Breath-Liz-Breath!
My eyes darted between the 5 faces in the car, trying to see if I recognized anyone. I didn’t. The back and front windows were open, and the two closest to me were hanging out the side. They kept laughing. Kept pointing. Laughing and pointing and staring at me. I didn’t smile. I didn’t flinch. I just kept running. Trying to comprehend what was going on.
And then I saw it. They were taking photos of me. Or wait, was it a video? I instantly envisioned the photos. My God, and the video. My short shorts. My thighs. The fat spilling out of my top. The cellulite.
Ohmygod. What is happening? Who are they? Why won’t they drive off?
Eventually the car passed me, and their laughter and a honk disappeared around the corner. I stopped running. I stopped moving. I wanted to sit down and cry. Disappear. I wanted to disappear. It was literally my worst running nightmare come true. The reason for years, and years, and years I sat in my house, not wanting to leave in fear of being judged. In fear of being seen. In fear of being noticed.
I didn’t blog about it when it first happened, as I was scared it had something to do with this blog. Scared those photos were going to appear on some website, or perhaps even in my email. I still have absolutely no idea who those guys were, or why they took photos of me running up a hill, but it really shook me. To my core.
I then felt myself regress. Regress to the old, self conscious, self-hating, person I once was. It was awful. All those familiar feelings of feeling like I did not belong. Did not deserve. Was useless. Was doomed…
It took me a few days, and a couple of runs to get over it, but I did. And I can’t say enough how thankful I am that that happened to me now, and not 2 years ago when I was a new runner, a very (very!) self conscious new runner. When I was not strong enough of a person to realize those stupid assholes’ actions and comments do not define me. Because they don’t, they really, really don’t.
Two years ago, that incident would have ruined me.
But today, at this point in my life, I am strong and confident and happy enough to (eventually realize to) flip those losers the bird, and truly know the person I am, a girl running up a big hill towards her goals, her dreams, and yes, a cellulite-free-bum, is a better person than any of those guys are, and there is no way in hell I’m letting them define me, even for a moment in time.
Meet Krysten. Krysten, meet Little Blog. Krysten is an in real life friend, who is simply amazing, and I’m not just staying that because because I had dinner with her tonight, and have known (and admired) her for the past eight years.
When Krysten was 18 she discovered she had an irregular heart beat. This means she now carries within her a pacemaker heart, and a light, scar on left chest, which whenever I see it reminds me how strong and incredible she is.
Recently Krysten also discovered she carries the breast cancer gene. She has also decided in the coming months she will go ahead with a (complicated - because of her pacemaker) preventative mastectomy and alloderm reconstruction to battle her BRCA 1 gene. She is 26 years old.
Dinner with her tonight was simply delightful and it reminded me that there are so many bigger issues in this world than weight, and food, and appearance, and sizes. I was reminded how incredible science is, and how lucky we are to live in Canada (as the cost of her surgeries wouldn’t have been an option in some places in the world).
Krysten, you are so wonderful, and I wish you the best with your coming surgeries, I’ll be thinking about you a lot, and obvs tweeting at you too.