Who Do You Love?

Lately I've been thinking a lot about self esteem and what it actually means. It's the so-called love you have for yourself. But it's always been a blurry, grayish area for me. I believe in self love, absolutely. But I also know far too many people who suffer from high self esteem as opposed to the low. There must be a way to love yourself without being a self centered, ego maniacal douche bag who can only talk about how much better they are than everyone else around them. My own confidence took quite a hit when I couldn't run without excruciating pain and then found out I had stress fractures and had to stop running for a while. I felt like a failure... Like perhaps I should have tried harder to run through the pain and that I was using it as an excuse not to accomplish my goals. Sometimes it's hard to remember why I started all of this to begin with. I remember that it was for me, but aside from that I just don't know. I've gotten support from my husband who's always there to help me. He provides a lot of physical support (i.e. rides along beside me, gives me water, cold towels, times me, gives me distance readings, provides motivational support when I'm tired and want to quit) but he doesn't jump up and shout how great I am when I'm done. My parents and friends find my running interesting and will say "good for you" or "better you than me" but for the most part, don't really care. And honestly, why should they? This is MY dream, my goal, my legs.... So this leaves me wondering, when you don't have the verbal affirmations and support from people on your journey, is actually reaching the destination pointless because no one will care when you arrive except for you??? Or is this where self esteem plays it's role and you give yourself all of the support and congratulations you could ever want or need?

Most of the running blogs that I read are written by people who are either true athletes or are trying to lose weight. They chart progress, pounds, miles, days, diets, etc... The more athletic people write about their greater fitness goals, doing triathalons every day, mountain biking, trail hiking, surfing, running 40 miles a day, blah blah blah. I have nothing in common with any of those people. I don't diet, I don't need to lose a lot of weight (a few vanity pounds would be nice) and I'm never going to be an extreme athlete. I haven't joined any running support groups, I don't really chart my progress by any measurable standards and aside from a brief mention here and there, no one really knows how my running is going on a day-to-day basis. I don't have a niche or really fit in anywhere (long suffering problem of mine anyway) and so I feel "out in the cold" so to speak, in the running world. I am solely responsible for picking my own ass up and carrying it another ten feet when I feel like I can't go another step. It's me that makes me run. I have no audience, no followers, no crowd, no applause from anyone. So I guess running really is what I set out for it to be huh? For me. And while I definitely feel the solitude and a little bit of loneliness from time to time, it's kind of nice to know that it really is just about me. From what I can gather about self esteem, it doesn't really count if you're comparing yourself to people anyway. You can always look at someone and feel inferior; that's low self esteem. And you can look at someone else and feel like you're better; that's vanity. Loving yourself means not only loving who you see in the mirror, but mirroring that love back to those you might otherwise compare yourself with.

This truly is the journey of a lifetime.

In Your FACE!

I've always taken notice of the way women, young girls especially are objectified in everything from a Burger King commercial to a print add for lawn mowers. I'd like to be clear about something though... I am not a prude. I don't object to strip clubs, pornography, sex toys, toy stores, toy parties, penis cakes or birth control. I think consenting adults should be able to explore, enjoy and engage in whatever activities they deem fit. I've only ever had one rule: Don't use kids or animals. So, with that being said I'll get to my point.

I'm tired of seeing overly sexualized women in teensy shorts and cut off shirts sucking their finger while they water the grass as the tubby hubbies huff and puff past her lawn on foot on their way to Burger King. I'm sick of googling things like "dolphin cay" and getting a big fat picture of some 120 lb girl in a bikini, boob wrestling a fish. I'm sick to death of interviews with pin up girls who say that they like to eat hot wings and watch football on Sundays while they hang out with the boys because "really, I'm just a goofball and have always been considered one of the guys." I don't need giant breasts to sell me on a shampoo anymore than I need twinkies to sell me on a car. There is NO correlation between those things. I understand that "sex sells" and that's great. Let sex sell something that has to do with sex. If people who are selling sex want to look sexy then by all means, that's what they should do. If I go into an adult video store and want to know which one I should rent, chances are I'll look at the cover and make my determination based on who I'd like to see naked. I don't need some woman's rubber balls, size 38DD's in my face at a baseball game trying to peddle popcorn to my son. And I certainly don't need to see anymore crotch teasers on Girls Gone Wild video commercials. I realize that some girls go wild, Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears did it. Hell, even mall rat, Tiffany grew up and posed nude for Playboy. As far as I know there has never been a shortage of sex in the world. If all of a sudden, people stopped cold, NO MORE SEX! I might understand the need for all of the tantalizing imagery. But since strangers on Myspace are still offering it (at no charge I might add) I think the world is safe from bunny hunching extinction.

I have to raise a son and a daughter in this world and I hope to be able to instill in both of them that they are valuable. I want my daughter to love herself and never think that she has to display her body in order to obtain anything meaningful in her life. Not a job, a partner, attention or a damn dollar. She's amazing and brilliant and gifted and beautiful. And that had damn-well better be enough for any boy that comes near her!

I want my son to love himself and know that he's smart and kind and brave and strong. He will be enough for any woman with sense enough to understand that abusive jerks aren't worth their time. I never want either one of them to see this:
















and think it's anything other than a gimmick devised at grabbing their attention and pulling it away from what really matters when it comes to women. I don't take my son to Hooters and encourage him to "love the ladies" and enjoy the breasts. I don't sit him down to watch the Hawaiian Tropic contest and I'm not taking him to Mexico on Spring Break so he can participate in the gang rape of a girl who drank too damn much tequila. And if people don't think that perpetuating macho, piggish behavior in their little boys will aid in their growing up to become date rapists and womanizers then they're sadly mistaken. If our sons and daughters aren't taught how to behave and treat one another, then when they get older they'll make big mistakes... Some they might regret forever.

Everyone has a "button" I guess. And the over sexualization of women is one of mine. I detest the way women allow themselves to be portrayed and treated. And I despise the men who try to mold and shape their women into the Playboy images they grew up fantasizing to in their bathrooms. The women who let men do that to them are just as guilty. And as a man, if you don't like small breasts, little butts, big thighs, wide-set shoulders or short hair then don't date or marry someone with those features! It's just that simple. If you think that 9 months of growing another person in your body and then squeezing it out or having it cut out isn't going to change a few things on a woman's body, you're in for a shocker. And what in the hell gets into men anyway??? I know men who have these crazy images of what women are supposed to look like in their heads but in reality, they themselves look like shit. They have guts and their weight fluctuates (pretty badly). One of them has a huge nose, spaghetti hair and bad breath. Give me a break. I don't need someone judging me or telling me what to wear or what I need to have operated on. I need someone who tells me for 12 years straight that he'll divorce me if I get breast implants, he thinks everything about my body is amazing and that he wouldn't change a single thing. Because you know what? In spite of all of my imperfections and flaws, I believe the man. I pick myself apart and he puts me back together every single time. THAT is what makes us people. Not reproducing, indiscriminant, humping beasts with no soul... Although I could name a few "people" who fit into that category, but they're mostly on a tv show called The Jersey Shore.

The Race Within

So! I ran my first 5k with my best friend by my side. We had a great time and it was a wonderful first race for the both of us. I think we came away from it a little more comforfortable with the idea of doing even more races... It was certainly not my best time for 3.1 miles. My ankles caught fire about .3 of the way in and didn't let up until after the first mile. This is a fairly common problem for me but not generally to this degree. I have a lot of body pain on a regular basis because of the condition of my spine, neck and right hip. I have limitted range of motion and regardless of my painstaking warm-ups, I still feel very "crunchy" after I run. I push through it most of the time but on occasion I just sit back and whine like an obnoxious baby. All of that being said I was still immensely proud of myself and of Jenny. She showed an enormous amount of courage and steadfastness. I think we both needed one another for this race.

If there's anything that running has taught me, it's that I need to be kinder to myself. 2009 was not an easy year for me in many aspects (especially physically). When I started feeling better I made a promise to myself that when I was able, I would take advantage of it and not waste my capable body any longer. I've spent years mentally bashing myself for all the things I'm not. I've hated my thighs to the point that I'm actually surprised they haven't left me. I've beaten myself up over not being a perfect home maker, mother, wife, daughter, sister or not being organized, on top of things, perfect! I can ususally give myself a hard time over just about anything. But in the last few months that's started to change. I've slowly begun to realize that I can't be mean to the person I'm relying on to carry me over great distances. I can't pick on the body that, though it's in excruciating pain, still stumbles out of bed and bullies me down my city streets on foot. It's hard to dislike someone who's doing more than you thought they were capable of, and that person is me. I'm running a constant race. One that I know I'm never going to win, and that's alright. I want to keep running, to keep racing, pacing myself and absorbing my own rhythm. I want this struggle. I need the journey a hell of a lot more than I need to arrive.

Beating the Bible

I grew up in the rural southeastern part of the United States. Georgia. Southern, middle Georgia to be more precise. We went to church (Methodist) every Sunday and sometimes on Wednesday. I also got to sample other churches by attending with friends of different denominations. I liked getting to see how other people worshiped. Sometimes it was solemn and ritualistic; sometimes it was down right scary, especially during revival week which I was always invited to attend because my friend never wanted to go it-alone. (I think they spooked her a little too.)And then a few churches were delightful and upbeat. People sang and clapped and let out an "Amen!" or a "that's right" and sometimes you'd hear a "You got that right!" That was mostly in the Pentecostal churches though. They were my favorite to visit because the members seemed the most genuine and were always glad to see a new face and told you so from the time you entered until you left. I've always wished there were a greater variety of churches in South Georgia so that I could sample all of them... With the exception of one or two. :) I'd pick a different church every week if I could.

Most of my childhood friends attended church regularly and this was a part of life that we all accepted. It was part of who we were, what we did and why we complained so much on Wednesdays. And although our families concerned themselves with our eternal well-being, I don't recall too many of them going overboard either. I recollect only one mother condemning myself and her daughter to hell if we didn't keep the Sabbath. The rest of the parents were... well... normal? They even acted as though they expected us to complain about having to go to church "all the dang time!" I bring up this point for one reason alone... Some of the people I grew up with are now religious "Bible Beaters" and "Jesus Freaks" and I don't know where this came from. I don't mean that they took the teachings of childhood and parlayed that into a Godly life. I mean some of them are just nuts! There are a mild few who simply attend church, count their blessings and invite you to services. But quite a few of them can't spend 30 seconds on Facebook, Twitter, texting or any other messaging medium without quoting Bible verses or speaking Christianese: A language dubbed by myself and my bff as what the overly religious speak. If you say you're having a bad day, instead of "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?", you get "Praise Jesus! He'll guide your steps today. Just give it to God and know you're washed in the blood 'cause you have a Savior and his name is Jesus. Hallelujah!" The language is confusing and mostly unnecessary. Unfortunately it's generally pretty fake too. The people who speak Christianese are far different from the ones who try to genuinely provide comfort with a kind word and a remembrance to pray for you. And I seem to know an awful lot of people who speak Christianese. When we played together as ten year olds, I don't remember hearing their parents speak that way and I know they weren't raised in a generic religious climate. Perhaps it's a sign of the times and the political push for all conservatives to be church-goers of some sort. For a while that distraction left people scrambling for their Bibles so they could "prove" their beliefs had something to do with the Constitution? But anyway, I digress...

I want to know what happened to the wacky kid who tore off her Barbie's heads? Or what happened to the fella who kissed me in the 11th grade and said if I didn't go out with him more he'd hang around outside my house until I did? What in the world happened to the sweet girl who said her first curse word when we were in Belk's in 1993? Why are they all beating the Bible and preaching with every flip of their tongues? What happened to the flippity, whimsical people I once knew? When did they turn into disengenuine, religulous, defectors? Perhaps we didn't take away the same lessons from Sunday School. Maybe the message they got was that it's better to sound like a Christian than to actually be one. Whatever happened, I know that I'm glad it didn't happen to me... for all that's worth. I know a man who quotes scripture all the time and can't wait to 'minister' to you, but he jumps at the chance to rendezvous with young girls behind his wife's back. I also know a man who seldom says a word, let alone quotes from the Bible, and if you even hint that you have a need, he'll be there to lend a hand. I can only hope I'm right about which man God would have represent him in the world...

Hold Tight

Since my children were very small I've reached into the back seat of the car when we were traveling to hold their hands. I've done it for any number of reasons... When they're tired or cranky, when they're afraid or when they're bored, I reach back and grab their little hands and hold on to it for as long as I can, or until my arm goes to sleep. On our last trip to and from West Virginia a couple of weeks ago I realized for the first time, when I reached back to take hold of my daughter's hand that I was not only taking it for her comfort but for mine as well. I felt my heart swell as she grasped my hand and we sat for several minutes in silence staring at the unfamiliar winding roads ahead. On the return trip home from West Virginia I had a similar experience with my son. On both of these occasions I found myself wishing that I could hold on to them forever. If I could go through life holding their small hands I might never be afraid again. I hope that they feel as strong and soothed holding my hand as I do holding theirs.

The Quest to Find My "Star Player"

One of my favorite comedians is a shrimpy pimp-of-a-man named Katt Williams. His style isn't for everyone I suppose but it suits me to a "T". In one of his stand-up sets he talks about a man who ran for a living and who by some freakish force of nature became a double amputee and still continued to run. I'm posting the clip so you can witness this gem for yourself. Beware, he speaks cuss like it's flavored water.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qlNEmpxQxI


So after struggling quite a bit in MANY areas of my life over the summer, I've determined that it's time I get in touch with my "star player". I fully believe that in order to get over yourself you must set aside a few moments to purge and spew your wicked thoughts and foul feelings about everything that bothers you... And then move on. I'm lucky enough to have one of the greatest bff's in the whole world with whom I can purge. But the time has come for me to SUCK. IT. UP! I've spent so much time this summer bitching and moaning about the heat and humidity and why I can't run in it that if I'd devoted 1/3 of that same effort to actually shutting up and running I'd probably be 10 pounds lighter by now. My right knee has been giving me some trouble but not enough to keep me off my feet, and my ankles are always stiff when I start my runs but seldom enough to make me stop. I have physical struggles (namely my hip and neck) that make some days more difficult than others but I really don't have much right to complain the way I do.


My son came in from school today talking about how much fun he had playing volleyball at P.E. Then he informs me that some of the kids blamed him for losing the game for his team because he missed some of the balls that came in his direction. I must admit that my boy is not the most athletically adept child and he's a bit shaky on his feet sometimes. He moves awkwardly and is more silly than savvy. But he has damn near unshakable confidence. He sings and dances and auditions for every major part in the annual school plays (and gets them too). And by the way, he does neither one very well... He wants to enter EVERY contest he hears about. He wants to be the winner and the best at everything. He came in 2nd in AR points last year and still mopes when he thinks about not winning the trophy. But it hasn't kept him from setting that same goal this year. He'll go back to school Monday and enjoy playing volleyball just as much as he did today because he's in touch with his star player. Michael Gene McCoy has the confidence that carries him through his scrapes and losses with a burning hope for better things to come. He believes in himself because he's never listened to a single soul who told him he "couldn't". What makes him so special is not that he wins or is the best at everything, it's that despite his losses he continues to believe he can be the best.  That's the star player I'm talking about! The one that loses and believes she wins because she had a great time giving it all she had. The star player gives a ball it's bounce and a tire it's tread. It gives dirt some flavor ('cause at some point most of us have to eat a little) and it's the bite that holds back the tears when all we want to do is feel sorry for ourselves...

My star player has been patiently waiting for me to arrive. I think I'll get in touch with her and go for a run.

Where do I sign up for "free"?

I have some pretty intense feelings about a hot topic we've dubbed "illegal immigration". I believe a case can be made for just about any side in this argument, however I believe there is only one logical basis for a decision: MONEY


I'm so tired of hearing the wanna be enlightened people say that white settlers were illegal immigrants when they landed in North America. It wasn't an established country, though there were inhabitants.There was a whole war fought that settled our rights as an independent nation (it was called The Revolutionary War). I can't wholey defend the way the white man pushed Indians from their land. It was crappy and even down right sad, but most of us are living in cutesy houses perched on the land our ancestors took from them.


So I'd like to get to the modern day issues if I may...We have laws in this country that determine how, when and if someone might gain legal entry into our borders. I believe we have enough laws in place to keep things fair, however I believe the enforcement of the laws are a bit bogus. If there was an actual functioning system that handled the applications for visas and citizenship in a timely fashion then people wouldn't feel so pressed to come here illegally in the first place. I think there needs to be a complete overhaul done on the manner in which we deal with the law abiding immigrants. That being said, if you are not a citizen of this country and you hop, skip or jump a border or over stay your visa then you are in fact residing in the United States ILLEGALLY! And if you are here illegally then I don't care what "legal" measures that our law enforcement officials use to move you out of here. I don't care if they use traffic stops, building sweeps, employment stings or a fake sweepstakes. As long as they load you on to a big truck and ship your ass back to the country you legally reside in, I don't care. And the reason that I don't care is rather simple. It's not because I'm a biggot. It's not that I don't believe people have a right to migrate and determine the life they want to live and move and live and work accordingly. It all boils down to money. It's basic economics and if you know how to add and subtract and you're a tax payer then you should really consider getting off of your enlightened high-horse and do some figuring. We'll start with something really simple like education. Each city and county collect taxes that help to support the school systems within their borders. The states then kick in some of it's collected tax revenues to help make up the difference. So we all agree that taxes pay for education. Right? Right! It costs each school district a certain amount of money to educate and feed each student. So if you have more kids going to school than you have tax dollars to pay for them, wouldn't you assume that it would be difficult to educate all of the children because there isn't enough money to do it? Let's say out of a class of 600 students, 70 are undocumented illegal immigrants, and of course you also have a percentage of students whose caregivers don't pay taxes because they do not work or own property and those students are also being educated for "free" essentially. So lets estimate that of these 600 students, there is enough revenue to pay for 490 of them. So the other 110 must still be educated and fed which means that you must spread your resources more thinly in order to accomodate all of them. You get fewer books, supplies and teachers. And then when the illegal immigrants graduate from high school they cannot legally obtain work therefore they do not pay taxes; But if they have children then their children are able to receive benefits like medicaid and food stamps. So the person you educated for free whose caregiver did not pay taxes, now has a child that more tax dollars go to help support because the parents aren't able to obtain work legally and pay into a system that they drain from. And if you work and live and pay taxes then you should be concerned that the people who come here under the guise of seeking a better life are actually exploiting this country, not embracing it. They're getting a better life alright. There are clinics, hospitals and health departments that provide them with health care (via your tax dollars) and we educate and provide abundant resources to their offspring as well (also via the taxpayer). Our family alone pays an approximate, combined total of $16,000 (not including social security and medicare) a year in taxes (property and income) and that doesn't include sales or advelorem taxes. I would like to think that our governement would spend a fraction of those dollars on things that I truly care about. I'd like for teachers, police officers and firemen to earn a decent, living wage. I'd like for the small county I live in to be able to build a new middle and high school. And quite frankly I don't understand what people don't get about the term "illegal". Noone has stated that people shouldn't be able to come to America and start a new life. This debate isn't about a right to immigrate. It's about the working, paying citizen's right to not have to support the immigrant financially. If you're an enlightened illegal immigrant lover and you love the idea of open borders so much then by all means, prove your strong support of the Native Americans and your belief that they were violated when your ancestors came to this country, and allow any illegal inhabitants of this country to come and take over the property you have worked and paid for. Give an illegal your home, your land, your clothing, your child's swing set! Give them whatever you feel might settle the 300 year old Native American score. But something tells me that if someone parked their party of 7 in a tent in your back yard, ate your food, demanded money and medicine, you might just call the police (whose job it is, incidentally, to see to it that people actually obey the law) and want the "immigrants" removed.

Our system is one of checks and balances, some are much more simple than we give them credit for. While the illegal immigrants hold up signs of protest and claim that law enforcement agencies target them for deportation, should they experience an emergency they would call 911 and expect the appropriate tax supported agency to respond to their call for assistance. But they don't feel that they should help support the very agencies they rely on? They should receive health care, education, social security and welfare - free. Now that's the life I want to live! Where do I sign up for that???