Seven Turns on the Highway

I'm a bit of an obsessive-compulsive. Those of you who know me are probably thinking I've just stated the obvious, but for those of you who are new to the manic world of Tish, I thought I'd just put it out there.

Running has become a new passion of mine. There are few things I obsess over ..... sometimes I get hooked on people, sometimes I fall in love with an idea but few things keep my attention for long. Right now I am fully enthralled with painting and running.

Last night when the Hubbs came to bed, we started yapping about a few housekeeping items and before I knew it, he was fast asleep and I was wide awake. The next thing I knew I was visualizing the next day's run, pondering how many miles I could go and how long it would take me. I thought about the half marathon I committed to this coming October, the music I would listen to and what it would feel like to run 13 miles at once.

And then my mind moved to all the things I learned in a recent acrylics class. The urge to jump out of bed & experiment with all my new materials was almost overpowering. I feel like I learned enough in one class to propel my work in a whole new direction. Colors danced in my head, I saw swirls and fades, layers and hidden meanings. It's almost as if I'm possessed and my urges won't be satisfied until I finally submit and go into a painting frenzy.

During these times I'm reminded of how self-indulgent both of these hobbies can be and how much they require me to withdraw and delve into my own little fantasy world. Each are paths I take to thought analysis, interpretation and expression. During my running, I pound the pavement and explore thoughts and ideas that make an hour run seem like only minutes. I expend restless energy, frustration and dissatisfaction - all while burning calories.

Painting is a process in which I seek out some of the deepest emotions that I carry inside - sometimes it's my sadness over the loss of my dear Grama, sometimes I'm lost in a sea of regret, a mile of hope or a world of intense passion and love. It is my way through, my way forward.

I always struggle with the guilt that comes with taking chunks of time expressly devoted to "me." I feel as a Granddaughter, Mother and Wife there are always at least three other people who need me and want my time. And for so many years I gave it to them and I ended up squeezing so much joy out if it because I was miserable. At least I know now that whatever time we spend together is much more pleasurable because I'm actually happy.

I know that these things aren't really about weight loss but they speak to the problem that a lot of women have with taking the time they need to feel good about themselves, whether it's enjoying a hobby, working out or just sitting with a friend to talk. I never used to do these things. My time was spent erratically chasing distraction, food and conflict. And you can clearly see that I carried that conflict on me like a pissed off fat suit. For your viewing pleasure - I have posted my "before" photos:





The first picture is a profile shot (sort of) of me and the Baby Boy on family trip to Seattle. I wanted to burn that picture as soon as I saw it.

The next two shots were taken in 2003 during a trip with my brother-in-law to Tahiti. I must admit it wasn't easy going to such a beautiful country while walking around in a body that was the picture of sadness. I tried really hard to hide my depression and have a good time despite how crappy I was feeling.

And for shits-n-giggles, here is a recent pic of me:



This picture was taken a couple days after my 33rd birthday and as you can plainly see, I was feeling like the bee's knee's that evening :-)

Anyways - progress, not perfection, right? Tomorrow is a new day and another opportunity to succeed or sabotage. I'll be taking steps between now and then to make the right choice.

I hope you do too.