{"id":9017,"date":"2013-05-21T04:02:17","date_gmt":"2013-05-21T04:02:17","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/?p=9017"},"modified":"2013-05-21T09:25:58","modified_gmt":"2013-05-21T09:25:58","slug":"right-time-right-place","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/?p=9017","title":{"rendered":"Right Time, Right Place"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Today I was all like, &#8220;Meh.  Do I haaaave to run?&#8221;<br \/>\nAll day yesterday I looked at today&#8217;s run like a death march.  I was just not looking forward to it.  At all.  I told Bradley that running was imminent tonight, though, and he wrote around 3:00 checking to make sure we were still on to run.  I enthusiastically answered in the affirmative.  Then the kicker,  &#8220;Gigi wants to run at the track.  Wanna go to the track?&#8221;<br \/>\nBleh.<br \/>\nNo.<br \/>\nI don&#8217;t.<br \/>\nBut to him I say yes because of all the family benefit and blah blah blah.  But I wasn&#8217;t feeling it.  At all.  Then the anxiety- wondering who would be there?  What would be happening?  Would I again be the lone fat girl running around and around the track to the amusement of others (not really, again it&#8217;s all in my head, people are nice).<br \/>\nI wasn&#8217;t upset.  I was resigned.  What I really REALLY wanted was to plug in my headphones and just run and get it over with by circling my neighborhood.<br \/>\nI head upstairs to kick off my shoes and put on my running clothes and just happen to check my email.  There is an email about a comment.  On my blog.  FROM A STRANGER!  SOMEONE I DON&#8217;T KNOW IS READING MY BLOG!  HOW COOL IS THAT?!!!*<br \/>\nNot only that, but this lovely woman, Terry, sent me just the <a href=\"http:\/\/flintland.blogspot.com\/2012\/05\/hey-fat-girl.html?m=1\">absolute perfect link. <\/a><br \/>\nGo read it.  I&#8217;ll wait.<br \/>\n&#8230;<br \/>\nI know, right?!<br \/>\nI sat down on the stool I keep in my bathroom so I can reach the high stuff (I&#8217;m 5&#8217;9&#8243;, I find it ironic that I need a stool) and tears welled in my eyes, they slid down my cheeks and Bradley wondered why I was bawling.  He read it, put a hand on my shoulder and said, &#8220;I&#8217;ll bet it felt pretty good to read that, huh?&#8221;<br \/>\nKnow what?  It did.  I felt validated.<br \/>\n***<br \/>\nWe pulled into the parking lot of the high school and it was like my worst dream come true.  Soccer practice- two teams scrimmaging on one field with the stands filled with bored parents absently watching their daughters.  They were about to watch me.  I walked on the track and didn&#8217;t really care what they thought of me- a good feeling.<br \/>\nWe didn&#8217;t end up staying.  Circumstances brought us home prematurely where I ended up getting my way after all that and running 3.2 miles around my block.  But I was incredibly grateful to this stranger for setting me straight and reminding me that I&#8217;m an athlete worth the space on the track.  That people aren&#8217;t looking at me to mock- they celebrate my laps along with me.  They know what I&#8217;m doing.  They get it, they understand.  And they are proud of me too.<br \/>\nThank you, Terry, not only for taking the time to say hello and offer encouragement, but also for inspiring me on a really tough day.  I really needed that.  I feel more motivated and determined already.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Today I was all like, &#8220;Meh. Do I haaaave to run?&#8221; All day yesterday I looked at today&#8217;s run like a death march. I was just not looking forward to it. At all. I told Bradley that running was imminent tonight, though, and he wrote around 3:00 checking to make sure we were still on &#8230; <span class=\"more\"><a class=\"more-link\" href=\"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/?p=9017\">[Read more&#8230;]<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[178],"class_list":{"0":"entry","1":"post","2":"publish","3":"author-littlejohnt","4":"post-9017","6":"format-standard","7":"category-uncategorized","8":"post_tag-comments"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9017","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=9017"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9017\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9205,"href":"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9017\/revisions\/9205"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=9017"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=9017"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.littlejohnesque.com\/shazam\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=9017"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}