Last week I decided that if I really want change I was going to have to go out and club it over the head. After all, most things are outside of ones home. So I challenged myself to join a gym. A gym that is 15 minutes away from my home over a mountain. I am pleased to say that the challenge was met on Friday and I worked out both Saturday and Monday. I made the drive two different ways and timed it to 13 minutes. It is also located near a hospital (5 minutes) and my therapist’s home (3 minutes) so I figured I am set for any possible scenario except perhaps the zombie apocalypse. As we have discussed, knowing beforehand how far I will be traveling from my home helps me feel in control, so that contributed to my confidence level. The fact that the gym has childcare was the siren song that lead me to this particular rocky shore. It’s an hour without a kid following me into the bathroom or asking me to work that @#$* Strawberry Shortcake Puzzle. Again. (I know some of you are saying “Oh one day you will miss evacuating your bladder while answering questions about the tooth fairy and blowing someone’s nose at the same time.” That’s a chance I am willing to take). PLUS I do so need the endorphins. I have been in the pit lately.
Today I took a spin class and nearly fainted at the end. The room started to close in, etc. Instead of panicking I just figured if I did pass out at least that would extend my break away from the kids a little longer. I also resolved right then as I walked out of that spin class that I would not let that deture me from coming back. You know the drill: you have a panic attack or a negative emotion some place and you start to avoid it for fear of another attack. Well, even if I pass out so many times I become known as ‘Narcoleptic Nancy” I will keep returning to that gym. My life is waiting outside of this house and I am hunting that @#!^&%&*@# *& down. That gym is just concrete, re-bar and ball sweat. It has nothing to do with my low blood pressure and getting off the bike too quickly. Besides, if I pass out I sure would rather somebody were there to see it and get help. If it happened at home my Goldendoodle Phil would just eat my carcass and use the opportunity to crap on the rug and loot the garbage can. No dignity in that.
My announcement: I am writing a book. Well, I have been writing it for some time, but I am actually ready to spend the next few months completing it and getting it ready to quarry. This is part of overcoming my biggest fear – that of succeeding. “What if” it gets published and they want me to do a book tour? Which means leaving my house. Or even FLY ON A PLANE? “What if” it get’s published and there is pressure to write another one and I can’t? I FAIL??? “What if” it get’s published and…what if it doesn’t? “What if” has crushed and compressed me my entire life. “What if” can suck it. “What if” must go. In the next day or two I will put up a page detailing the book. It is a very funny and honest account of my trip to Vietnam to bring our six-year-old daughter home.
As for the future of my 52 weeks, I will devote my time for now to writing the book. But I promise to check in frequently with you as I continue my campaign to scare the crap out of myself and push onward and upward out of this damn house…and onto the Best Sellers List. Maybe.