And I'm Climbing

I did it, I never thought I would, and my legs are sore because of it.  Yes, that’s right your girl ran on the treadmill—now can somebody please come over and rub my legs?  Now I made a promise to tell you the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so let me be honest with you—I did not get to the gym like I wanted to and I found myself in the fridge after midnight twice during the week (more on that later).  On Monday and Tuesday I woke up sick with gastrointestinal discomfort and a headache so that was my excuse for not going those two days.  On Wednesday I had to get the second part of my three part root canal done (which somehow I think will end up being four because I will have an extra dose of the antibiotic after I take it Wednesday.  I had open heart surgery when I was four so it’s something I will have to do for the rest of my life) and my dentist is all the way in Ithaca so by the time I came home I didn’t want to see the gym.  And on Thursday I still felt sick, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me on Friday and that’s when it happened. 

I was walking fast on the treadmill—not holding on—with only ten minutes left on the clock.  A voice inside kept nagging me to run and I wanted to.  I half looked around the room to see how many people were in there, but fear…I was letting fear keep me from it.  What was I afraid of? Falling?  Embarrassing myself?  Or was I afraid of pulling myself up the ladder that I knew I would eventually have to climb?  Whatever I was afraid of didn’t matter, all I knew was the spirit of fear was still taking up occupancy inside of me and I had given him an eviction notice.  Since I’m not one to be ruled by fear, in my purest form not my weakest, I turned up the speed and started to run the treadmill for the very first time.  I only did it for a minute though—hearing a voice inside tell me not to rush—and after five minutes went by I did it again.  I was proud of myself and made a commitment to do it again.  But by the time I got home on Friday, I realized why I had been ill, (guys you can only sympathize, ladies you know what I’m talking about and it can be crippling) and on Saturday I woke up moody and didn’t want to go anywhere.  So I just sat there all stubborn, convinced I wasn’t leaving the house. 

You know the other day I said I was my own motivator, but that couldn’t be more false.  My mother and grandmother are my two biggest motivators and I don’t even give them enough credit for it.  If it weren’t for my grandmother I wouldn’t have went to the gym today, and if it weren’t for me not wanting to go she wouldn’t have went Saturday either.  But there I was, tired as heck, cramping and moody, hiking the steps to the locker room to get my headphones and sneakers, and devising a plan:  Ten minute warm up, one minute run, five minute walk, for thirty minutes, and then elliptical machine.  By the second interval I was ready to stop, my legs were hurting, and I was thankful I gave up smoking.  But there was no way I was going to stop after just two, at least not with Mos Def and Mary J. Blige in my ear.  So somebody ring my bell and come and give my legs a massage because they are sore, but gue (guess) what? as my Uncle Essie can say:  I’m loving every sore muscle in my body right now.  This right here is the very reason I didn’t want to have the Bariatric Surgery. 

Okayokayokayokayokay!  So I did oversnack this week, I’m human and I am allowed to make mistakes.  I didn’t do that bad with my eating this week though.  I found myself tiptoeing to the fridge only twice this week and I was eating lunch meat and I wasn’t even hungry (even though the turkey was making me sick I still ate it mindlessly).  So I asked myself why I was eating it and what emotion I was feeling and you know what?  There was nothing wrong; I was eating out of pure habit.  Even though I am doing good right now on controlling my little fridge raids that happen from time to time I realize that it is a habit.  I’m glad I’m aware of it because I can conquer it and I’m better able to control myself.  Other than that I’m doing great for an emotional eater.  I have done some research on becoming a vegetarian and I found out that what I’m actually turning into is a pescatarian, which brings me to my surprise.

I bet y’all been wondering about that little ground turkey pasta meal I was going to throw together hunh?  Well there was a reason I didn’t bring it up, disgusting being the culprit.  It would have been very good had I not used vanilla soymilk.  It messed the whole think up and as much as I hate throwing food away my pride wouldn’t even let me eat it (and I was going to eat it too).  But Friday I made up for it with a dish I like to call Shrimp Cilantro and it was absolutely delicious—my grandmother actually asked if there was any more left.  I can’t wait to get my hands on shrimp and coconut milk, my stomach is growling already.

This may sound silly—even out of place—but this past week love has been on my mind.  I don’t know who God is getting me ready for, and vice versa, but I’ve been imagining scenarios and all that good stuff.  One being:  On a Saturday afternoon I take a break from writing and walk outside to see my husband fixing up a beat-up worthless-piece-of-crap car and ask him if he needs my help.  The song on my mind is Bill Withers “Lovely Day”.  And whoever he is, he loves me for my flaws and imperfections and I love him for his.  Whoever he is, I know I can throw away every last pair of shoes I own because I wouldn’t need them anymore—and I wouldn’t be looking at the front door.  There is a poem by Kysha N. Brown, which inspired one of my poems called Zoom Fantasy World so you don’t have to guess why love is on my mind.  And that’s it folks.  That’s all there is.  I hope you all come back next week as I continue to share my journey with you.  Have a very blessed week and remember to live in love, peace, and blyss!  If you want to send me a personal email you can do so at

***Oh yeah, I am working on a short story called Ouija—really I’m almost done—for your entertainment.  I will be posting it this week on Writing.com so if you’re not my friend on Facebook (if you are coming from some of the communities I’m involved in I will notify you) make sure you add me, my name is Shawnte Blyss Barr.  But I do have to warn you it is scary.  It’s based on actual events but I had to change names and other things, so technically it’s fiction.  Make sure you don’t read it at home by yourself, you never know what can happen!***