I have this reoccurring dream sometimes. Actually, it's not the exact same dream, it's just the exact same action.
Sometimes I dream I'm running. Nope, not from a bobcat or a crazed monkey (well, probably that too), but actually, I'm just *jogging*. Moseying along, at my own sweet dreamin' pace. I've talked about my dreams here before, I dream crazy stuff. *CrAzY* stuff. Stuff that would get me put in therapy. Or a straight jacket.
But sometimes the dreams are different. Sometimes they are so real, that it might take days for me to realize that it wasn't true.... this is one of those cases.
I haven't had these dreams for a while, probably several years, but they started up again as of late. Usually in the dream, I'm walking someplace and on the spur of the moment, I decide I'm just going to jog so I can get their faster.
Now if you know me for one second, you know I'm not a jogger. A.) My knees can't take it. B.) It's not a pretty sight and C.) well, you read B right? However, in these dreams, it just feels *so good* to pick up and start running. Like that's the way it's supposed to be. I wonder if that's what running is like for other people, because if it is, I can finally understand why so many people do it.
It doesn't feel like running at all, although I know I am. I wouldn't describe it as slow motion, but I can feel every step I take, and I feel light, almost on the verge of floating to the next step.
And there's the rub. It feels so good to run, because I feel so light.
Now like I said this is not the first time this has happened to me in my life. In fact, it's been a long while. To the point where I had decided that those dreams were gone forever. It's been about 7 or 8 years since they seemed so real that it was a nightly thing, to run places.
Finally, I took a hint, and started eating right, then working out, and then this happened:
Yep. That's me, circa minus 8 years approx.
I wouldn't say that it was the happiest of my life (on a personal level), but I was indeed happy with what I had accomplished. In fact, I was proud. Proud that I'd come so far and could see the end. Finally.
Once I started losing weight, it became more than just losing weight. I started lifting weights, and remembered back to high school, when I used to lift weights and was *good at it*. It felt good to feel every single muscle in my body and how it moved. To be honest, I really LIKED having aching muscles the next day because I could feel every muscle work.
Don't get me started on driving a stick shift after a hard leg workout.
In High school, I had a talent for lifting weights. I would be in the weight room with the football guys (yes) and doing the hip sled - more weight than some of the linemen. I loved it, and went to the coach and asked if I could be on the iron men club. Now for the record, if you wanted to be an "Iron Man" you had to bench press 200 pounds. This was something I knew I wouldn't be able to do, so I asked if there was something *else* I could do to prove myself.
His response was "If you wanna be in the club, you gotta do what everyone else does." (with a very condescending smirk). He basically told me, "No Girls Allowed".
Later in life, I won the women's division in a bench press competition. I wanted to mail him the trophy with a note that told him to take his Iron Men, and this trophy and shove them both up his ass.
A couple years later - they started Iron women, but I refused to join on principle alone.
So anyway, lifting weight, and having a talent for it, started me thinking about something else, about more than just getting thin, but about being built. About someday having a dream of wanting to do a body building comp. Yep... one of those chicks.
I became pretty obsessed with it. I read all the muscle mags (the guy ones, not the chick ones - those are just advertising) and I even went to a body building competition in St. Louis, which for the record, is pretty darn cool! Seeing so many people accomplish their dream was inspiring.
The gym became a nearly daily thing, sometimes twice a day. I was driven and had a passion. But the body stopped there, and over a YEAR of nothing, I slowly burnt myself out. Along came changes in my life, which became an easy excuse to not go to the gym, cuz hey, I wasn't accomplishing anything anyway right?
So I gained. Period. Just did.
I don't beat myself up over it anymore.
That was the first step to just getting myself back on track. With that came - the dreams. Those dreams about being outside, and running.... floating. Makes me wonder if this is not a premonition of sorts. "It's your turn Lana."
And it does feel like that again.
Eating well - not perfect -but journaling everything. Every day. I haven't been exercising - the weather is crap. But I don't think that's a good excuse so I've been trying to think of things that I like to do, that I can do inside and just yesterday, I bought myself a dance video to try out.
I bought myself some Flaxseed oil (liquid, not pills) because I've had great luck with that in the past. (I'll teach you about flaxseed oil soon!)
Slowly it's coming off. I'm at 9 pounds down now, which is one pound from my second goal. (5# at a time). Which doesn't sound like a lot since I last reported, but apparently I suck at 3rd grade subtraction and was off by a pound. LOL! All my clothes are loose, and I can look at my face and tell I've lost. Gene looks at me and says he can tell too - which I hope he's being honest and not blowing smoke. heh.
So I'm getting there... slowly.
And that chick up there? Well, that's not the old me. That's the "other" me. We're friends, we talk sometimes. She invites me over and I'm usually too busy for her - which is very rude btw. So I've made time to hang with her again, because srsly, she's awesome.
I'll be there again - just give me some time.
Then I'll be kicking ass and taking names.
(more than usual)