Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Fit Mothers



I can't stop giggling at this Willy Wonka poster.

Mother's Day is approaching.... and being in tip top physical condition, when a mother, is tough.

Some make a daily trip to the gym. And that is cool, don't get me wrong. But not everyone can afford the gym....

Some teach at the Y to help out and get out. That is awesome too. And then there are some that I catch running or walking really early in the morning. I air high five them as I pass by on my way to... somewhere that early. Must have been an early coloscopy or something.

Being able to run a marathon is awesome.
 
This is just un "unfit mother's" perspective. From a bed ridden, at times,  stand point.





I don't know if I would have been one of those people if I hadn't gotten ill, driving an XTerra and putting stickers all over it with my accomplishments.

So I gadge myself next to my friends that I have now.

And I am happy to say I have some of the coolest that range in lots of cool directions. Some are very athletic. Some got into different life time sports. Some are older and motor bike in the hills. Some are
uber smart plus do races.

Funny story on this biker friend... once she was at the bottom of a tough climb and the guys ahead of their group said how tough it was and had fallen back down. As they deliberated one of my friend's sons made it up. Then the Dad. Then my friend.

One of the guys at the bottom, who hadn't made it up, said: "Jesus, Momma!"

That is a cool compliment. I want a cool compliment! Actually, I have one about me that I will share at the end of my brag blog after I brag about my friends.

My friends are now all into road biking, etc. Some of them even do HARD races. Like ones in other countries.... wow. Who does that? Okay, only one person I know. But still. Wow.

 I have no idea how they are my friends.

One friend in college even said that it was me that got her into running.

Heck, I was just trying to endure the time away from my sweetheart.... so I pounded pavement until my lungs failed me in my Freshman year, I had some infection that made walking up hill in Rexburg in the dead of winter to classes, really crappy. Stupid pluerisy. (infection of the sack around your lungs)

Some were getting into snowboarding and I was getting arthritis. Gosh, dang it! There are alot of people that will put some sorta sticker on their car that says Ragnar. (one of those hard races)

The cars wearing them are usually pretty sweet. But my friends that run and bike, don't. They don't show off that they are major athletes still. Or started after HS. Like J.J. She was B team and then became AA team after Jr. High and HS. Dang her.

I love that they don't brag. But I did love when my friend's husband said he DID want his T-shirt outta the 1,ooo K race.

 ha, ha!

Why do we love shirts that show what we did??

or if we attended a volleyball camp in Utah?

My point is that I love the humility that I see in people. Some of my closest friends will not tell me what they have done but it is accidently dropped by a bystander about some amazing feat

And my. jaw. drops.
 
Hi. FIVERS!!!!!!!!!!!! FRiEnDs!!!

I am so not like that. And need to be,.


What I am doing is getting on the Blog, blogging about my achievements as soon as they fall out of my body. Like enduring a cavity filling. I want a shirt for that, Dr. O,.

So it sucks that Mother's Day is coming and

 
 I am not a Fit Mother.

Dang it. I really wanna be in the club.

The closest I got to a cool thing was as I was waiting for J. at the bottom of a mountain by the Grand.
I had my cane.

It's floral.


I look like a potato. And walk like one.



It sucks. But I have skied before on that mountain and it was a blast talking to J. about certain runs and the moguls through a little place.

So I was sitting on an adirondack chair in the sun and it was hot, people. I mean, Readers. It was gorgeous. I was about to pinch myself. But a family from Utah cruised down and started to eat lunch and sit and enjoy around me and we got talking.

My story spilled out, of course. His daughter had had cancer and so he talked about her and then that opened up my story.

He was drinking a beer from a glass and the sun caught its golden color and made the objects around it gleam as I squinted to look up at him.

"Damn!"

Sorry. Mom. And Readers. But he swore and sat up and looked at me with awe. Yes, awe. I wanted to ask, "What? Did I say something wrong?"

But I was busy feeling really cool about myself. That is the best compliment as of lately about being a cool mom.

This man, his wife was there too, was astounded about me.

* Okay, I am editing this and it is a day after the cavity and I am having some flu or bluck from the cavity filling. I hurled in the sink. Sorry, Padre. I will have it cleaned before you get home.

Where was I?? Oh, yeah, editing being  in shape for mother's day....


hhhmmm..... J. is in here and we are battling fractions even though my stomach is doing back flips. ugghhh... I have Crohns disease and all this other stuff now. But I got on the tramp with him and I looked like an

 Octopus in the reflection in the window.

Wowzers, I need to get in shape, for sure!

And why does math always have to go way into the NIGHT!!!


 It took me two weeks after basketball season to get into shape for Track season and they were back to back. So I am thinking that if I have only four more days until Mom's day that leaves me only so many hours to get fit divide that by the fact that I have major trunkel obesity, multiplied by a bad ankle and pulled muscles, factor in the pinched nerves or inflammed tissue around the hip and other joints, all this added together at the speed of light.... I don't stand a chance.

But it is hard when you can't walk. When your veins burst doing the simplest things. It hurts.
I wish they gave out shirts for helping kids with math. That's what I'm talking about.

Forget climbing Mt. Everest.; try helping kids with learning disabilities (not J. btw.  I volunteer with some of these kids and... whoa. Doing the same thing
 
OVER & OVER.

Even when you are sick?

Does that make me a fit mom?
That makes you one. Even if you;re a guy, that makes you a nurturing parent. don't want to leave you fellas out.
 
Laters. I can't write anymore.
 
 
 
 
 



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