inner thoughts of a crazy walking lady.

LAP 1: 12 of these? ugh. (cause I was on a tiny 6laps=1mile track no one in their right mind would actually "workout" on, but because it was that kind of track, I slip in there to obscurely do just that)
LAP 2: complaining with every step (in my head to myself) about these practically glass feet I walk around on....so fragile, so sensitive, and seriously burning as though I'm really (for real) torturing them.
LAP 3: jogging, focused, loving that this lap will finish quicker....and then interrupted with the cute boy and his friends and their dodgeball game. i fast walk instead, talking to them along the way. and then they wander off.
LAP 4: only 2 more and I've finished the first mile! more than 1/2 way through the first 1/2! small victories.
LAP 5: counting things out, pondering daily logistics, thinking begins.
LAPS 6, 7 and 8: i don't really know what I'm thinking
LAP 9: people join me on the track. with only 4 laps to go, I'm not leaving. so we share. and i wonder about them for a while...what their family is like and such. totally none of my beeswax, by the way.
LAP 10: I'm listening to the boys. I can hear them laughing, screaming when they come close to being out in their game, and then louder laughter following. my body? totally numb and not hurting a lick.
LAP 11: a random ridiculous high school situation comes into my mind. i didn't even realize it was in my mind until I heard myself mumbling to the other person no good mumblings (and no it wasn't a boy). and then i realized that my 30 year old self was remembering this situation, reliving it, and putting in my own 2cents that i never felt got to be heard. interesting. interesting the things that i think might contribute to "my figure" that i might be forced to deal with within myself. i know before i've always thrown in the towel. i don't make that connection during lap11 of course, but my conscious self does kind of go in and out of being in tune with my thoughts during these laps.
LAP 12: so I "tune back in" to myself realizing I am on a full-on mental rant of single parenting. and I am ranting to people. specific people. I know it's in connection with a couple of things I've read recently, but that at the time I didn't make a connection. until lap12. I recently heard someone say something about people not knowing what to do with/how to act with/around/etc. those who are in mourning, and therefore not acknowledging it. someone grieving a loved one (her husband was killed). I read this thought in another situation (a mother mourning her child) in a blog. I also have heard this about people in regards to their own ethnicity. the importance of not making us all the same, or seeing us as one color, but acknowledging a difference, loving every shade and celebrating that we are all different, but unique and interesting, and beautiful together. it was powerful to me. i always felt like i was less offensive if I saw no difference. i love that i got permission to see it and love it the way my heart naturally loved (it was in a cultural diversity class in college...awesome). and on lap12, i realized that single parenting is the same for me. it is a similar circumstance that makes me cringe when it's not acknowledged (not like, "hi, i see you're a single parent" but in general). because it's my reality. and because of that small shift in a life circumstance, much is different. it really is. and apparently i needed to get all hot and bothered in a full on rant about it in my own head (which was annoying...cause i was on the same side as the opinion of the ranter. it was like preachin' to the choir goin' on in my own little head. coo coo.) and want to know what happened while i was getting all worked up in my rant?
lap12 ended.
my body, my feet especially, were all numb and totally able to go on and on. i especially was working through some things mentally and so that seemed to be good to just let myself purge them. but i also know about doing too much emotional work and the floodgates opening. so i gathered my brood, and we went on with our evening.


i wonder what else this process will bring up. isn't it funny the things we store in our brain that we never acknowledge? who knew i was thinking or feeling anything from these things?! not me, that's for sure.