So I'm slowly thinking of and starting my book for my Grandma's birthday in August, I still haven't decided on how many there will be; but I guess it will depend on the length of the stories. So, here's the first one!:)
She looked up from the latest spelling test she had been grading; this was her favorite time of the day, 'The Reading Club' she gave her second grade class 30 mins out of the day on Tuesdays and Thursdays so they could pick any book, and anywhere in the room to read. She prided herself in giving her little 7 and 8 year olds the freedom to take what they had been larning in class and let their mind grow and learn on their own for an hour a week. Many of the other teachers did not give their classes so much time to do this and seemed to always give her a questioning eye as they walked past and noticed silent students spread throughout the room with a book in hand. As she scanned the room to find the gigglers or daydreamers that needed to be brought back at the task at hand she stopped on Elizabeth. This precious little girl was wiping the sweat from her brow and concentrating so hard, Sue could almost hear her sounding out the story in her mind.
Elizabeth, now here was a student Sue hadn't had in a long time. The type of student that so desperately wanted to read but what having such a hard time learning to. Lizzy was the first one in line to the library, the one that had a pile so high she could barely carry them, and the one that was having the hardest time sounding out the words. Sue had students in the past with such problems but they were usually diagnosed with a learning disorder and sooner or later they were able to read. She knew Mrs. Clark had done everything a parent could do, she took her to see doctors, practiced with her daughter every night, she talked to specialist but no one seemed to have the answer. She heard everything from 'She is probably just a late bloomer, she will get there just give her time.' to other person not-so-postive people saying 'Maybe she's just dumb.'
***Writers Block, friend came over so I will continue to work on this later:)
22.5.11
16.5.11
Chapter 8ish, 3030
I feel like my heart is going to explode. Holy crap; why did I let myself get so out of shape? A better question might be why the hell did I think running a marathon would be a good thing to add to my list? I mean I haven't even gone 2 miles and my legs are heavy and the peson at the fitness desk is charging up the AED; eyeing me as he does. Let's be honest for a second, I'm really not a runner. I mean yeah I have the running clothes, shoes, heart rate monitor and subscription to Runner's World; phssh but please that doesn't make me a runner. And to be COMPLETELY honest, I don't even like running that much, it's the way I feel AFTER the fact and sometimes I have to wonderful if it's even worth it.
I can do this, it's only 3 miles. I've run 3 miles plenty of times before; if I could do it then I can do it now. Who cares if I haven't laced up the 'ole running shoes in oh 8 months? (Who am I kidding it's been a freaking year) I move the towel to see how far I've gotten on this God forsaken thing, WHAT?! 1.75 miles? You have got to be kidding me, I still have over a mile to go? I will never make it; if anything the treadmill will keep going and my body will be laying at the end when my head repeadly hitting the tread. This was a bad idea, I should have signed up for a half marathon. Oh wait, I did that too. What kind of crazy you-can-do-anything (even though you haven't done much in the past 6 months) drugs am I on when I sign up for these events? What am I trying to prove to people, let alone myself? I mean am I a disappointment if I don't run 26.2 miles? Will people be able to look at me and think 'Oh there's no way she's ever done a marathon.' Better yet, what will people think when I tell them I have done a marathon. I'll tell you what they'll think, that I'm out of mind stupid and obviously enjoy torturing myself.
My towel slides off the treadmill tripping me on the way down. I catch myself but the whole process is watched by every single person in the cardio room. It's like they've never seen a girl run on a treadmill before. Wait, they have and yet they would have never thought someone that looks like they're so in shape could possibly be THAT out of shape that she can barely keep up with the 6.2 pace, breath (wheez) as if she were 250 lbs, or land so loud that you would have thought it was her first time running. It might be a good time to tell you that yes, I do look like I'm in shape but it is all a lie and I have depended on that lie long enough. I'm tired of people thinking I could do a plank for 2 mins when actually I can barely hold one for 30 seconds.
Ok Emily, enough with the Negative Nancy, tell her to shut up and focus. You CAN do this, the question is do you want to? I mean no one will have to know that you changed your list a few times. Well your family will know because you already told them you were running it, and everyone at work, the girl behind the counter at the running store, your husband, the cab driver from 2 weeks ago and of course don't forget your dog trainer. Damnit, why do I have such a big mouth, don't I know by now that my failures are less embarrassing when no one knows about them. Correction, it's almost worse beacause I know, and knowing that I have failed or quit yet another goal or dream is worse than anything. I'm tired of letting myself down. I do want to do this; so many people have talked about what an experience running a marathon is. I mean I'll be pushing myself to my body's limits. Wouldn't it be nice to know what my limits are, or better yet find out that something I once thought was a limit isn't anymore?
I smile to myself, crank up my Chevelle song on my ipod and hop back on the treadmill. I decide not to replace the towel. I don't need to keep this a secret and I don't need to hide any of the information that's on the treadmill from me or anyone else in the room for that matter. I pick up the pace to 6.3 and give the thumbs up to the trainer behind the desk (no life saving needed today my man) As I feel the sweat drip down my back, feel my leg musles flex and relax as they carry my body in the forward motion and see my reflection in the mirror I realize; yes, yes I do enjoy torturing myself.
I can do this, it's only 3 miles. I've run 3 miles plenty of times before; if I could do it then I can do it now. Who cares if I haven't laced up the 'ole running shoes in oh 8 months? (Who am I kidding it's been a freaking year) I move the towel to see how far I've gotten on this God forsaken thing, WHAT?! 1.75 miles? You have got to be kidding me, I still have over a mile to go? I will never make it; if anything the treadmill will keep going and my body will be laying at the end when my head repeadly hitting the tread. This was a bad idea, I should have signed up for a half marathon. Oh wait, I did that too. What kind of crazy you-can-do-anything (even though you haven't done much in the past 6 months) drugs am I on when I sign up for these events? What am I trying to prove to people, let alone myself? I mean am I a disappointment if I don't run 26.2 miles? Will people be able to look at me and think 'Oh there's no way she's ever done a marathon.' Better yet, what will people think when I tell them I have done a marathon. I'll tell you what they'll think, that I'm out of mind stupid and obviously enjoy torturing myself.
My towel slides off the treadmill tripping me on the way down. I catch myself but the whole process is watched by every single person in the cardio room. It's like they've never seen a girl run on a treadmill before. Wait, they have and yet they would have never thought someone that looks like they're so in shape could possibly be THAT out of shape that she can barely keep up with the 6.2 pace, breath (wheez) as if she were 250 lbs, or land so loud that you would have thought it was her first time running. It might be a good time to tell you that yes, I do look like I'm in shape but it is all a lie and I have depended on that lie long enough. I'm tired of people thinking I could do a plank for 2 mins when actually I can barely hold one for 30 seconds.
Ok Emily, enough with the Negative Nancy, tell her to shut up and focus. You CAN do this, the question is do you want to? I mean no one will have to know that you changed your list a few times. Well your family will know because you already told them you were running it, and everyone at work, the girl behind the counter at the running store, your husband, the cab driver from 2 weeks ago and of course don't forget your dog trainer. Damnit, why do I have such a big mouth, don't I know by now that my failures are less embarrassing when no one knows about them. Correction, it's almost worse beacause I know, and knowing that I have failed or quit yet another goal or dream is worse than anything. I'm tired of letting myself down. I do want to do this; so many people have talked about what an experience running a marathon is. I mean I'll be pushing myself to my body's limits. Wouldn't it be nice to know what my limits are, or better yet find out that something I once thought was a limit isn't anymore?
I smile to myself, crank up my Chevelle song on my ipod and hop back on the treadmill. I decide not to replace the towel. I don't need to keep this a secret and I don't need to hide any of the information that's on the treadmill from me or anyone else in the room for that matter. I pick up the pace to 6.3 and give the thumbs up to the trainer behind the desk (no life saving needed today my man) As I feel the sweat drip down my back, feel my leg musles flex and relax as they carry my body in the forward motion and see my reflection in the mirror I realize; yes, yes I do enjoy torturing myself.
30by30
**So most of you know that I have a little 'to-do' list called 30by30 and one of the goals on the list actually to write a book, I have like 4 books in the works, ha! So I think I have that goal covered. But I wanted to share in this entry my 30by30 ....
1. Build my character
2. Eat naturally for one month
3. Live anywhere but Elkhart
4. Do something that scares me every year
5. Write a book
6. Get rid of cable
7. Plant a garden
8. Run a Marathon
9. Inspire someone
10. Nude model for an art class
11. start our blanket
12. stop drinking pop
13. Go braless for a day
14. Do an olympic tri
15. Give up my cell phone for a month
16. Start a book club
17. Volunteer
18. Learn to meditate and stick with it
19. be able to do a bodyweight pull up
20. Be able to do a pistol squat
21. Be my natural hair color for a year
22. Read the entire Bible
23. Take a class (i.e. language, photo, art)
24. Do a bikini or figure competition
25. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle
26. Become CSCS certified
27. Become financially sound
28. Give up materialistic things (i.e. crap in my closet)
29. Go commando for a day
30. Become a mom.
1. Build my character
2. Eat naturally for one month
3. Live anywhere but Elkhart
4. Do something that scares me every year
5. Write a book
6. Get rid of cable
7. Plant a garden
8. Run a Marathon
9. Inspire someone
10. Nude model for an art class
11. start our blanket
12. stop drinking pop
13. Go braless for a day
14. Do an olympic tri
15. Give up my cell phone for a month
16. Start a book club
17. Volunteer
18. Learn to meditate and stick with it
19. be able to do a bodyweight pull up
20. Be able to do a pistol squat
21. Be my natural hair color for a year
22. Read the entire Bible
23. Take a class (i.e. language, photo, art)
24. Do a bikini or figure competition
25. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle
26. Become CSCS certified
27. Become financially sound
28. Give up materialistic things (i.e. crap in my closet)
29. Go commando for a day
30. Become a mom.
10.5.11
Untitled Chapter 1-ish
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry! They come anyway. I can feel them fall around my apple shaped cheeks and their heat radiate against my skin. I hope they can feel me radiate my hatred right back at them. This is the third night in a row that I've cried once I've gotten into bed. Why can't they just leave me alone? Isn't it bad enough that I'm fat; do I really have to pity myself to the point of tears? Oh, I should probably introduce myself, I'm pathetic, wait wait I mean I'm Casey. I know this is probably not the greatest first impression but I feel it is important for you to know what rock bottom looked like for me. What? You imagined rock bottom being me with a pint of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream watching yet another trashy reality show hating myself? Oh no, that was just me hitting a few bumps on the fall down. Rock bottom was when I actually thought about ending it all,over something that I actually had control over. I use the word control very loosely in that sentence by the way.
So there I was laying in my bed, in the dark and in tears. Now I've been in this situation before. The first time my heart was broken, the time my mom told me she was disappointed in me, the first time I heard someone call me fat. This night was different though, I had lost my hope. I didn't see a point to trying another diet or exercise routine when I knew I would just fail and probably have another 10 lbs added on instead of lost. As I wiped the tears away I was making a mental to-do list for the next day; most people would think of a to-do list to go something like this:
1. Pick up dry cleaning.
2. Workout
3. Call Mom
Etc, etc. My to-do list looked a little something like this:
1. put plastic down on bathroom floor
2. type up suicide letter.
3. pay bills! must not stress mom more than needed
4. Find a home for Arthur...
Arthur. How could I not think of Arthur? It was as if he could read my mind because my furry child hopped up onto the bed and began licking my cheeks. Now I know the scientific reasoning is probably because the cat probably just wanted the salt, whatever, I took it as a sign of love and as if he was saying 'Don't be sad Mommy, I love you no matter what you weigh.' If you are thinking about a nice white room with soft padded walls to put me in right now because of my human-like relationship I have with my cat, no worries, my mom reminds me quite frequently that she has one on speed dial for the moment I crack. Gee, thanks mom.
Anyway, I'm getting off track, back to Arthur. He was my rebound love right after my divorce; which to be honest he turned into my one and only love. I decided after Scott left me (oh you'll hear about him later, because lets be honest he had a LOT to do with this extra 50 I'm carrying now) that I needed a companion. I went to the local humane society and as I walked in they were taking this charcoal gray cat out of an animal carrier. He looked quite sad to be honest; his sea green eyes were dark and I'm sure if there were a mirror around I could have seen we had the same expression on our faces. The lady that was holding him looked up and saw me. 'His family just left him here, they said they were more 'dog people'. Poor fella, not wanted and unloved. I hope we have can find a home for him soon' I had to remind myself as I fought back the tears that she wasn't talking about me, she was talking about the cat. I told her that she could just put him back in the carrier because he was coming home with me.
Now honestly I couldn't leave Arthur to think he was unwanted again, not needed, or worse not loved! So yes folks this is my rock bottom. I'm fat but seeing as I can barely say the 'F' word we'll just call me 'out of shape', divorced, and the crazy cat lady. There's no where to go from here but up.
So there I was laying in my bed, in the dark and in tears. Now I've been in this situation before. The first time my heart was broken, the time my mom told me she was disappointed in me, the first time I heard someone call me fat. This night was different though, I had lost my hope. I didn't see a point to trying another diet or exercise routine when I knew I would just fail and probably have another 10 lbs added on instead of lost. As I wiped the tears away I was making a mental to-do list for the next day; most people would think of a to-do list to go something like this:
1. Pick up dry cleaning.
2. Workout
3. Call Mom
Etc, etc. My to-do list looked a little something like this:
1. put plastic down on bathroom floor
2. type up suicide letter.
3. pay bills! must not stress mom more than needed
4. Find a home for Arthur...
Arthur. How could I not think of Arthur? It was as if he could read my mind because my furry child hopped up onto the bed and began licking my cheeks. Now I know the scientific reasoning is probably because the cat probably just wanted the salt, whatever, I took it as a sign of love and as if he was saying 'Don't be sad Mommy, I love you no matter what you weigh.' If you are thinking about a nice white room with soft padded walls to put me in right now because of my human-like relationship I have with my cat, no worries, my mom reminds me quite frequently that she has one on speed dial for the moment I crack. Gee, thanks mom.
Anyway, I'm getting off track, back to Arthur. He was my rebound love right after my divorce; which to be honest he turned into my one and only love. I decided after Scott left me (oh you'll hear about him later, because lets be honest he had a LOT to do with this extra 50 I'm carrying now) that I needed a companion. I went to the local humane society and as I walked in they were taking this charcoal gray cat out of an animal carrier. He looked quite sad to be honest; his sea green eyes were dark and I'm sure if there were a mirror around I could have seen we had the same expression on our faces. The lady that was holding him looked up and saw me. 'His family just left him here, they said they were more 'dog people'. Poor fella, not wanted and unloved. I hope we have can find a home for him soon' I had to remind myself as I fought back the tears that she wasn't talking about me, she was talking about the cat. I told her that she could just put him back in the carrier because he was coming home with me.
Now honestly I couldn't leave Arthur to think he was unwanted again, not needed, or worse not loved! So yes folks this is my rock bottom. I'm fat but seeing as I can barely say the 'F' word we'll just call me 'out of shape', divorced, and the crazy cat lady. There's no where to go from here but up.
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