I Shall Return

A few minutes after the finish line, and I'm still alive!!

A few minutes after the finish line, and I’m still alive!!

I know, I know.  I have not posted a darn thing of interest all month.  But things have been a little more hectic than usual between all the bases being covered.  But two great things to report

1 – I started seriously writing my next book, which will be YA/Middle Grade with a working title of ‘Don’t Call Me Poundcake.”  More details this weekend.  I am very ready to start this new writing adventure and can’t wait to share it with you all.

2 – I finished my first 5K Race this past July 3rd at Gillette Stadium in Foxboro Massachusetts, home of the New England Patriots, and now, me.  I almost croaked in the pounding 90 degree heat as we ran around the stadium, up every ramp and then down every ramp in the darn thing, but I made it, thanks to these 49-year-old legs and tons of support from all of my friends and family.  Here is a survival pick of Jeremy and me after the race.

Love to All and I will be catching up with my blog posting and reading this weekend.

Feeling Special

 

Special Olympics 2012-05

Special Olympics 2012-05 (Photo credit: pennstatenews)

Despite the 90 degree heat today, I haven’t felt this exact type of warmth since last Christmas, after spending time with family and friends and just experiencing all the reciprocal love and positive energy rebounding back and forth between us.

I spent this morning volunteering for the Special Olympics at the University of Rhode Island in North Kingstown.  It’s been about 25 years since I volunteered, and then it was just in the communications booth.  I never even got to see any athletes up close.   What an amazing bunch of people.

Amateur athletic events and I are old friends by this point in my parenting career.  Jules is quite the athlete and she has played basketball, softball  and/or soccer in some combination or another since she was four.  And she was dancing and acting at age three.  So I know what those types of competitive gatherings are like.  Well, I thought I knew.

Today there was no pushing, shoving, squeezing to get in the prime spot, to take the prime picture.  No video cameras in front of your view, not a hostile word, thought, or deed.  The athletes were calm, patient, living in the moment and enjoying it all, win or lose.  No one crying because she couldn’t  live up to unattainable expectations.  No injuries that swiped everyone’s breath away in a giant gasp.

I had a very tense ride down, and almost all the way back home, and then back again, and thought, shutting off the car, that maybe I wasn’t meant to be helping today.  (We will refer to that as the husband lost the car keys crisis, but then found them after I came all the way home).  That left me a bit cranky.  And after all, what could I do to make a difference today? 

Well I didn’t do much, seemingly.  But I felt.  I cheered.  I smiled till my face hurt.  I gave lots of high fives and pats on the back.  I handed out and collected towels from the athletes.  As  soon as I got my sweaty self out of the car the joy in the air nearly knocked me over.

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Ain’t nobody gonna steal my joy. Repost from Sethsnap

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (soundtrack)

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (soundtrack) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Ain’t nobody gonna steal my joy..

I love that ain’t keeps showing up in my posts.  Such a powerful word.

I agree with Seth, and he does such a fantastic job expressing the sentiment in his photos

May we all persevere, and let’s just share our joy so it cannot be stolen.

Wednesday Observation: Running on a Treadmill is SO Different from Running Outside

Gillette Stadium, home of the New England Patr...

Gillette Stadium, home of the New England Patriots, Foxboro, Massachusetts, USA (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Here I was thinking that running for 22 minutes straight on a treadmill meant that I was physically fit to run my first 5K.  WRONG.  Tonight I decided to see how far I could go on the Smithfield High School Track.  Each lap is either ¼ of a mile or 1/3 of a mile, meaning I need to run between 9 and 12 times straight. 

Well I ran around once.  Then I walked around.  Then I tried to run around again. By the time I finished I ran around about two times and walked around about two times.  So between a mile and a mile and third.  I’m sure all my panting alarmed the elderly gentlemen trotting briskly around the outside lane, as I hugged the inside like my guts were going to fall out.

I am running my first race on July 3 in Foxboro, Massachusetts.  For you New England Patriot fans the race takes you right into Gillette Stadium.  And my darling husband and daughter, who hate to run unless it’s part of a basketball game, agreed to run with me.  Actually they signed me up and decided to join me just in case I began to procrastinate or back out, as only I can, concerning exercise.

So I’m in a bit of a pickle now, because I have about 6 weeks to train to do 5K without dropping dead. 

I am not a runner at heart.  I like to cycle, I like to sit in front of the TV even better.  I like to read with a bowl of tasty snacks next to me the best. 

But I need to run.  It’s  the fastest way I can think of to get my exercise done.  There I said it.  And a body in motion stays in motion.  Running is good for my cholesterol, my blood pressure, my weight, my energy level, and my mental attitude.

So it’s time to train, train and train some more.   I got this.

When I told the Crow that I was going to run a race she responded as I thought she would.  “Make sure you don’t fall.  You’ll hurt yourself.”  Ah, encouragement at every turn.  Of course she does worry.  Usually unnecessarily and as often as possible.  One time when Julia was sitting on an ottoman laughing and leaning backward my mother warned, “Watch out, you’ll bite your tongue off.”  She was serious.  Severed tongue through a fit of laughter.  Julia uses that line on me whenever she thinks I’m being over-protective.  It works pretty well, I must say.

Just now I told my daughter that I too was very athletic as a child.  She sat and stared at me, a blank look on her chiseled blond beauty of a face.  She had just spent the evening at basketball practice for the AAU team she plays on.  She’s already made it clear to her father and me that her goal is college hoops and then the WNBA.  She just might pull it off too, who knows?  But I want her to know that not all of her athletic prowess comes from her Dad.

“Really Jules.  I never got any formal coaching, and I only played on one team for one summer.  But I was a really good softball player.  I used to bike for miles on a daily basis, and I wasn’t bad at tennis either.  You don’t believe me do you?”

“Nope.”

I’ll show her.  I hope.

There Ain’t No Warning Labels for Crazy

Warning labels

Warning labels (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Warning: Crazy.

I have been saying wow to myself a bit more than usual tonight. Wow for the man who rescued those poor women from a decade of torture, and then refused a reward.  Wow to the people out there who are actually criticizing him.

And when I read this post just now Warning: Crazy., about the labels that don’t come with the mentally ill, again, wow.  So beautifully written, I just wanted to cry for the author and her brother.  We all need to open our eyes a little wider because it mental illness can happen to anyone, to any degree, and none of it is funny for the persons suffering and the people who love them.  I’m sure I’ve done my share of ignorant snickering, so I will make every effort to open my eyes and remember to treat people the way I would like to be treated.  Some very cool guy said that a few thousand years ago and it’s still the strongest truth I know.

On to my next book – Fat School Graduate? or Drop Out?

Now that I am an established author (smirk), it’s time to look forward to my next book.  My initial intention was to write a YA book about childhood obesity and the struggle to fit in.  I think that book is still in me somewhere, but I have not felt ready for it lately.

I have always wanted to chronicle my life fighting obesity, and food addiction, but without a happy resolution to date, I’m not sure I can pull it off.   

I think it’s time to explore my struggles in more detail, but only with a real, non-fictional happy ending, a triumph over my daily struggle to fight the urge to clean my plate and get another, to empty that box of Oreo’s once a single sleeve is ripped opened.  

At the very least, writing about the daily pain, discipline, temptations and frustrations  may help me as I fight to cope in positive ways with something that has been with me since I can remember, with very few breaks.

I know so many people, especially women, who have gone through similar struggles.  And it’s not just feeling physically ‘yucky’ and unhealthy when your body isn’t right, it’s the lack of energy, the depression, the clothes that don’t fit right and display every flaw for the world to see.  The perpetual sweat and the feeling that everyone is looking at you differently.  I know from being thin, and being morbidly obese, and being several sizes in between, that not only do people treat you differently based on size and girth, but you treat yourself differently.  And my Italian American heritage, the abbondanza, doesn’t help a bit either.

English: a Oreo cookie broken in half with a s...

English: a Oreo cookie broken in half with a stack of Oreo cookies in the background. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I’m imagining this next work as not so much a how to as much as a how did I get here, and what, if any, answers are out there that can help others.  I want to create a positive book that you will want to read, want to use to understand yourself or someone you care about.  And it has to make us laugh, because without humor, what’s the point?

Would love to know what others think about this.

And no worries.  The Girl from the Hill is not dropping off my radar anytime soon.  The real Girl is actually pretty happy about the whole thing, if not a little overwhelmed.  A lot of people have pre-ordered and requested signed copies by her vs. me, which is wonderful.  I think we have to take our show on the road – the Summer of the Girl, here we come!

Special Offer buy 4 get a 5th Free ends Friday May 3rd

25th Anniversary 4

Thank you all for the kind and generous response!  PayPal should be up and running tomorrow for those that would like to pre-order an autograph copy of A Girl From the Hill.  Or Email me at pattymitch66@gmail.com and I will provide instructions on how to make a payment by check.

Apparently Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Balboa Press are all offering the book now too, but you’ll save shipping costs and get an autograph copy if you buy through me.

The positive response from you all overwhelms me! Thank  you with all my heart.  My Mom is quite excited too by the way.  A nice dividend …

By the way, the folks will be celebrating their 67th anniversary on Monday May 6th.  The picture here is from their 25th Anniversary party in 1971.  My mother always loved her Gardenia’s.

Today my Dad had to go to the hospital.  He’s home safe and sound, but he fell early this morning trying to get out of bed.  My parents worked together to get him up, him crawling on the floor and my mother sitting in a bedroom chair to weigh it down so he could use it to climb up.  I wonder if in their wildest dreams in 1971 if they ever imagined they’d have to endure such struggles as they did today.  At least they work well together as a team – they have certainly had enough practice.  Love you both.