Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Oh, GRATE.

I thought about explaining in my previous post that the "Black Dog" is a metaphor for depression, but then I realized someone might think I was referring to my dog who does NOT nip at heels. He's a great comfort, but he's no substitute for a human relationship.

Once again dealing with shin splints as I utilize new, properly fitted running shoes. It's a disappointment, because it means I have to back off on my training, just when I was making strides toward increased cardio endurance and starting to lose pounds that I need to get rid of.

I suppose I've answered my own question: no, I can't run every other day. It'll have to be every third day.

I hope I can do that much. I feel like Sisyphus. My boulder is pretty darn heavy.

Two steps forward, one step back. Is it impossible for me to strengthen my lower legs for running while I'm overweight? Tremendous catch-22.

It's Tuesday. I haven't run since Saturday. My shins still have they stinging pain like I was kicked by someone wearing boots. *sigh*

Okay, you want some gratitude? My new running gear came in today, and it fits. 360 degrees of reflectivity in my all-weather running tights and they are a little loose in the waist. I hope they don't fall! My running bra came in. Looks like it'll fit. My running jacket came in, too, and the color called "zone" is a shade of plum that I love. It fits my chest, and I have hopes that some day soon, it will look flattering on me while it keeps the rain off. I'm grateful my order was correctly sized.

And yet that does nothing to alleviate my frustration with being sidelined on my training YET again. So yes, I'm grateful that my running gear fits though I won't be wearing it for a while.

Did you ever notice how easy it is to tell the downhearted they should be grateful while you are happy, yet it is hard to be grateful when you yourself are at the lowest of the low? Food for thought, if you're gonna preach. Walk in my shoes because you don't have a clue how they feel.

Should I be grateful for my shin splints?

Of course not. I'm just praying a little for my healing, but the lion's share of my prayers have to go for people in more serious need of help.

I'm grateful that the week of my dog's illness seems to have finally passed, and the hydrocortisone shot that hurt him so acutely has healed his raw rear end. He still trembled with when I looked at the thick, scabby healed skin, but let me rub and scratch it a little so that the dead skin flaked off. I'm sure it was nice to relieve some of the tightness above his tail.

Every little bit counts. Hopefully the other scab will release soon and he can start regrowing hair. I'm grateful my dog is better; not really grateful about his suffering. Ultimately, I have to take the blame because he shouldn't have had fleas at all.

I'm grateful that I can walk, therefore aggravating my shin splints with each new step. So much for healing. Be thankful for pain that makes you know you're alive!!! Are you kidding me? Can't I be thankful instead for a life that makes me happy for solid, close relationships with people? It's what I want. I don't think it's unreasonable to want to be loved. Let's face it. Even I know that I deserve to be loved. Even you know that.

Happy people's insistence that I be grateful, well, it grates on my nerves.

I mean, really?
Have you listened to your own sermon?
And more importantly...

Could you sprinkle me with some of that fairy dust that hit you?

I'm grateful that I have friends who have such gratitude for their own blessings that they will understand this is just an expression of my frustration that they don't really understand me.

I'll tell you what I'm grateful for. Frozen silver dollar pancakes. I've been craving pancakes for weeks, and never made it to either IHOP or Perkins to get any. Let's call them dinner tonight. Bonus points if you can get em sprinkled with that fairy dust, thankssomuch. ;)

I'm probably not as grateful and thankful as I should be for grated Parmesan cheese. Truly, shredded is better. GRATEd is just dry, pungent, and powdered. Try the shredded. You'll be GRATEful that you did.

Y'know... I'm aware that my thoughts and my feelings don't matter to anyone but me. Never have. Never will. Some who read this are just gawkers who use it as gossip fuel. It's just the caliber of their character.

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