My Perfect World…

TLNart

In my perfect world I would have woken up this morning and called my mother. I would have made the perfect cup of coffee made and I’d sit at my perfect little kitchen table looking out my window onto the perfect view of some fairy tale mountain range. I’d say good morning and we’d begin our conversation as we’d always began them, talking about nothing and everything and all the little bits in between. 

I couldn’t call my mother this morning because 23 years ago on this very morning my mother passed away. And while I think I’ve perfected the “perfect cup of Tara coffee” it won’t be shared talking about nothing and everything and all the little bits in between with her. I don’t know if you’ve lost a parent but when people tell you it gets easier they’re right. I don’t think about her much as time passes. Days like today that are momentous she’s heavier in my thoughts but for the most part she’s settled into the background of my memory. It used to be I’d spend weeks getting ready for this day. This day of passing. This day of lost. This day of wondering what it would be like to have her be a phone call away. Now it’s more of a pause. More of a “hard to believe it’s been 23 years”. More of a stacking up the family lost as thoughts of my mother, turn to my brother and grandmother…

In my perfect world I would be able to run for hours without even blinking an eye. Every morning I’d wake up and with a smile on my face, strap on the perfect pair of running shoes and hit play on the perfect running play list that would motivate me to run marathon after marathon. 

I didn’t go out and run for hours this morning. I didn’t have a smile on my face as I strapped on the perfect pair of running shoes and hit play on the perfect running playlist. I did run. It was just under 4 miles. Far from the marathons/half marathons training runs. I’ve been struggling to run for minutes instead of hours. I’m trying to listen to my heart and when it says to run to drop everything and just do it. To run when the body says go and to stop when the body says it’s done. Whether it’s 4 miles or 4 minutes. I know my love for running is inside of me somewhere. Buried deep under the negative self talk of not being able to afford the time or money to training for something expensive. Buried deep under the negative self talk of not being fast enough, strong enough or having the endurance to run long periods of time…

In my perfect world I wouldn’t struggle with food. Period. I’d laugh in the face of cravings and tempting commercials. Those little 30 second blips telling me to think fresh while thinking outside the bun wouldn’t phase me in the least. Every drive by would go unnoticed and every billboard unread. 

As the holidays approach I worry about food choices. Birthdays/American Thanksgiving/Christmas/Oh look it’s Tuesday morning let’s celebrate. They’ve not been easy as of late. They’ve not been easy…ever. Some days I think I literally have it “in the bag”, pushing away offers of sharing a bag of chips at work or not using the emergency lunch cash I keep with me for that just made chicken strips and fries. Some days I wake up with a food coma hang over because that small piece of my mother-in-laws pumpkin pie turned into multiple pieces of pie with ice cream on top or a gorging of “healthier” foods just because I want to feel uncomfortably full no matter the choices I’m making…

In my perfect world I never would have had to start a journey of admitting my own mortality in the form of obesity. My closet would never had been full of size 24 pants, XXL tops and space for the next bigger size because that was the direction I was heading. 

I don’t think I’ll stop looking around the corner for obesity. Three years I’ve lived as a “normal sized” person (by who’s definition of “normal” I’m not quite sure of) and I’m still not used to the body that I see when I look in the mirror or see a reflection. I spend too much time looking at loose skin and new muscles. I think about pushing my body into smaller sizes so that I’m even farther away from needing to make space in my closet for larger sized clothes. I often wonder if people who are naturally thinner ever think in this way. If you’ve always had the body you’ve had are you afraid of losing it…misplacing it…forgetting it?

In my perfect world I’d be present in the moment. I’d allow myself to struggle to move forward even during times where it feels all backwards to me. I’d take long deep breaths and tell myself that this is just one moment in time. I’d appreciate all things about me even when I have a hard time looking in the mirror. I’d appreciate the time and effort I put into my life despite what I believe to be my shortcomings and flaws. In my perfect world I’d stop and think about those that are gone but instead of wallowing in the loss I’d take a moment to remember that had they lived, they’d be proud to call me their child. Their sibling. Their grandchild. In my perfect world I’d reflect on the miles  run rather the not miles run today because not that long ago physical movement was not even on my radar. In my perfect world I’d continue to nourish my body with foods made with my own two hands, not being afraid of my own kitchen and food choices are CHOICES and not my lifestyle as it was before…

(oh wait a minute)

This is my perfect world.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.