throw off the {bowlines}

Blog everyday, blog everyday in Maaaaaaay!

Ok, here's the deal. I'm starting on Day 4.

Why? Cause that's where' I'm jumping in.

Life has me busy, yo!

I'll catch up. Promise {pinky swear}.

One of my favorite quotes {and oh how I love quotes!!!} is this one:

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do

an by the ones you did do.

So throw off the bowlines.

Sail away from the safe harbor.

Catch the trade winds in your sails.

Explore.

Dream.

Discover.

~ Mark Twain

Keep dreaming my friends!!!

a {rebel} without a blog

Hi.
I'm back.
I went away for a little while.   (like 6 weeks awhile) I do this sometimes. 
I'm OK.  Really. I am.   I just got a little behind with the self-imposed writing deadlines and weeklies, and then I got busy, and then I went on vacation, and, and, and... I can't lie, I felt an uncomfortable amount pressure to keep this blog up and I didn't like it.  I love to write.   I do.   I love to converse, text, talk, read, watch, listen...share. Right now though...I'm kind of (fill in the blank)  pensive.   Yeah, that's the word.   I'm in such a different place in my life and in my head than I was last time this year. But, there are so many things on my plate, so many pressures that have to be met:  work, bills, fitness, family obligations, speed limits when there's a really damn good fast song on! I just can't get out of some of those, so I went and got out of the one that I could control.    I could stop writing.  I have power over that.   Yeah, I think not writing has been my rebellion.  Does that make sense at all?  I became a rebel without a blog.   All the while, the that tiny small voice was telling me: Why are you giving up the one thing you really love? It's your outlet. You know how you get when you bottle it all up inside.
 

{my kitchen blackboard and love notes to myself}

 

Getting back here hasn't been as easy as I thought. 

It should be like riding a bike, just get back on, right? That's what they say at least. I had to do a little bit of convincing. I had to romance myself with little sweet notes and reminders. I had to imagine that I needed inspiration to post something again. But really...I didn't have to do anything. I just had to sit down and start again.   So right now I'm liking the creative fury of my fingers dancing on this keyboard.
It's a familiar melody that needs to be played more often.   Getting back on the writing saddle is like anything else.  Showing up is half the battle but look, I'm already winning that one. I'm here.  I showed up.  I just gotta set some new rules so I don't find my way back to blank again. Or maybe I don't need rules, I just need some Hemingway:   There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. Ernest Hemingway <3

{Hi, I'm back.}

{8} Fears

I'm running late today on this weekly entry so I'm gonna just lay it out there  and try not think too hard about these. 
I'm just gonna type until my fingers are done ...cause right now, tonight,  I think my heart and my head have some things to say. A lot of things.
Lauren & Tiffany, you asked, here you go:

  First off, I wouldn't say that I'm a really fearful person.  I'd say I'm kind of brave. I do a lot of stuff on my own.   I don't think it's a broken sense of security.
Quite opposite, in fact, I am pretty aware of my surroundings - more than most I'd say  I think that's by being the oldest, by being independent from an early age,  and by being in law enforcement for so many years.
I was raised in a family and by parents who had a strong faith in God and so do I.  I have a solid foundation that doesn't forsake me even when I ignore it. (Say it with an accent now) I am a God fearin' woman.  Yes, indeed I am.  I saw this today and thought it was perfect for this week's 10 Day You Challenge

 {via Facebook}
I know who I am, I'm not afraid of making mistakes,  I'm not afraid of learning things the hard way. I'm learning a lot about myself lately.

This next picture is a few years old.  

A good friend of mine, who knows me well, put this on my locker at work one day. 

I read it and remember distinctly recognizing for maybe one of the first times in my short life that 

the way I carried myself, the things I did and stood for, they were noticed. 

I remember distinctly being proud that someone would think this of me. 

I remember not wanting to lose that label of fearless.

This is one of the best compliments I've ever received.

I haven't read any of the other girl's lists in the link up yet today.   I didn't on purpose.   I didn't want their lists to influence mine. I wanted to really think about this. 
So here's my list of {fears}: 
1) Sharks Seriously, do I even have to explain this one?  Shark Week people.   'Nuff said. (but, guess what? a shark cage dive is on my bucket list. I will confront this fear. Someday.)
which leads me to...
2) large bodies of water they're beautiful, but it makes me get all panicky and nervous knowing that  I can't see or feel or know what is lurking, and swimming, and slinking about at the bottom. Nuh-uh, not gonna dew it.   Nope. NO. Negative.
also...I fear them because I don't want to 
3) Drown(ing) also...do I have to explain this one?  *shudder* *cough* *sputter*
4) Intruders I live alone. I don't like the things that go bump in the night. There's only so much a girl can do armed with a big dog and a cell phone.  I think it's worse cause I know first hand the intruder stories.  Meh.  Not cool at all.  I've been thinking about my 2nd Amendment Rights a lot lately. 
5) Heights - that is a fear that seems to increase with my age for some reason.   I don't like glass bottom elevators, I don't like looking over multi story balconies.  I get sweaty palms and my heart races and I want to go pee pee in my pants.
6) Spiders...to an extent, seeing them I'm ok... having them crawl on or around me, no, no, NO.
{story time} I had spider crawl up my dress once...I was sitting on the ground.  In about 1/2 nanosecond, I was up, I was screaming shrieking, I threw a pillow and I jumped up and down like I was a 3 year old in a bouncy house. I have a witness, he'll tell you it was true, but what he won't tell you and didn't tell me for like a year, is that he's afraid of spiders too. Ah-ha!!!!   Chicken.   Ok, so can we get real for a second.  Like really, real? 
  7) and we shall label this <3? I fear I will never be in love again. Like puppy dog kind of, head over heels, mutual (key word),  in love with your best friend kind of love.  Yeah.  It seems like a ghost or a dream or a fable. 
and last, but most definitely not least
8) Settling I fear that I'll settle and the thought of that damn near makes me ill. Like physically sick.  I see it all the time.  Personally, professionally...it's an epidemic.
I don't wanna settle for good not great ~ Brad Paisley
This isn't me being judgmental, this is me standing in the midst of this shit storm we call society's take on commitment and relationships and screaming at the top of my lungs but feeling like no one is hearing me.
So... it's funny or acceptable to see people cheat, lie, and degrade each other? It's ok to see people lie to themselves and not intervene? Stop the train wreck. I mean there's whole talk shows and "reality" shows that have that as the main story line. Marriage is, what? A trend? A phase?

Source: Uploaded by user via Lauren on Pinterest

I guess it's a double edged sword, swing too far to cautious  and  you risk never taking a chance on anyone and missing out on...your destiny?  Eh.  Swing too far the other way and you're in love every 5 seconds and it's cry wolf. 
Listen, I've been there,  on the other end of the phone listening to the stories scratching my head wondering what it is about love that makes people lose all sense of self and logic, then again in the bridesmaid's dress fully supportive on the outside while inside saying "noooo, don't do it!", and then finally with a shoulder to lean on and a spare bedroom to offer when it all comes tumbling down. 
Don't call me and expert by any means,  but more often than not, the writing is always on the wall.   They say when you know, you know.   And well, if you're just still standing there guessing cause you think it's better than nothing, or it's comfortable, or it's been long enough so it's do or die...even when there's that nagging voice of doubt, well listen to it and don't.   Don't do it.  Don't settle.  Please.  Save you, save me, save us all.  For the love of...LoVe.  *sigh* I read } this { recently and I really appreciated it.  
From a woman who lived and loved in a generation that made something of what they had, this is some tried and true expertise.  I don't know Grandma Carol, but I like her.  Honorable mentions: 
There's a couple of things that came to mind that I realized  don't frighten me and I wanted to mention them. This is not a judgement on anyone else,  this is just my life's opinion as I've experienced it thus far. 
I'm in no way looking forward  or hoping either  of these to happen, but  if/when they might, I don't fear these and here's why: 
Losing loved ones - not because I don't love them dearly, but because I know that I tell them and show them on a regular basis.  I make the time.  I know it's precious. I have an aging family, this is a reality for me every day.  I have embraced it.   I can't be selfish enough to think that I can close my eyes and ignore it.
I am learning, damn near every day, to try again, to give second and third chances, to apologize, to make amends,  and to tell people that I value them and want and need  them in my life. I'm also learning when it's time to give up, give in, and let things go.  That lesson is just as hard as swallowing my pride and mending fences.

Source: s-kinnyl-ove.tumblr.com via M on Pinterest

Having a child with a serious or fatal illness - some of the strongest people I know have had children who have fought and won and unfortunately fought and lost  to cancer, Batten Disease, and other rare diseases that have no cures. 
 These children are every bit as valuable, precious, and worthy of love as any "healthy" child.   These children are some of the bravest fighters I have ever had the opportunity to meet. These children are warriors.   All they know is fight, every breath is a struggle, but they keep going.  They're resilient. They're an every day lesson in life and love. 
I don't wish it on anyone and I don't understand the unfairness,  but I don't fear the ability to love unconditionally those who are different, sick, or "incurable".
So, loss, I don't willingly embrace it, but I understand it's purpose in life. 
I have said my goodbyes when the time has come,  I have listened and watched for the last few breaths,  I have felt the breathless sobs of the loved ones left behind, embraced the outstretched arms,  felt the relentless tears roll down off of cheeks and soak through the clothing that drapes my shoulders.   I've been there, felt it, comforted it, cursed it, denied it, and finally accepted it. 
And...if you're still here at the end of this long dissertation I just wrote,  I will give more honorable mention to these other "non-fears" cause we need some levity! 
Financial ruin, credit card debt, body odor, running out of gas, passing gas in inappropriate situations, karaoke, public speaking, making a complete and total ass of your myself, having my heart broken, saying "I love you " and meaning it, stretch marks, acts of nature, flying, and ever increasing chin hair.   Yeah, whattadya gonna do?  Just roll with it! Come on, we have got to get through this together!!!!
Next week...{7} Wants
I might, just might, go all Veruka Salt on you!!!
xOxoXoxOXoooX
XO ,
PS - I feel better now.  I do.  Writing.  Makes some of the funk go away.

{8} Mile

This ain't no Eminem story.  
As you might have read previously, back in March,  I did my first 5k and since then decided that I would do some version of an organized run  every month from then on for an entire year.  I'm 6 for 6 so far. Go me!
Why do a run a month?   No.   The question is: Why not?!

I like goals, but don't call them lofty just yet. Well, 1/2 lofty. 5k is only like 3.2 miles but the way I see it,  that's 5 more Ks than I have been doing previously ever and well,   if I'm ever going to meet that bucket list item of doing a full 26.2 marathon,  I gotta start somewhere right? 
I never get enough sleep.   It's just how things are in my world and I'm learning to cope.  When I do sleep and then it's time to get up, it looks like this: 

{ it's like my body is glued to the bed}

So Saturday I finally got out of bed and me and Lynn finally got going to Santa Cruz at 3pm. {only 3 hours later than we had originally talked about leaving} No biggie, there was no big rush.  

We talked a lot, we sang some songs (ok, I did most of the singing). There was the mandatory Starbucks trip and then there was a wall of traffic which was just a reminder to turn the radio up and roll the windows & sunroof back. 

{sunshine, sunroof, good company = good times}

Dead stopped, We tried to get everyone else in the cars around us to sing "My Sharona" with us, but no one wanted to play in our Reindeer Games.  Their loss.

We finally made it into Santa Cruz, found our sketchy little Inn, where they store all the extra furniture and decor out front by the "office", which is actually just is just a telephone number to a confused person who told us they left the key to our room under the mat in front of the door to the room where there were no pictures on the walls.  The "second" bedroom was really a rollaway in the living room right by the front window, where the fire alarm was disconnected, and there were 2x4s holding up the couch - which was described as "velvety and comfy" and "will suck you in like an SVU marathon".  

Uhhmm................

Deciding to flee the Bate's Motel get dinner,  we opted to spend the next couple of hours at the harbor and on the beach right at sunset, soaking up the last of the day, scaling the rock wall levee (carefully, in flip flops mind you) and taking about 157 pictures between two of us.   After neither one of us slid into the Pacific, we stuffed our faces at the Crow's Nest (which was classy and comfy and sucked us in like a hungry moth to a BBQ flame) before heading back to get some "sleep". 

Sleep.  Remember that thing that escapes me?  Yeah.   Neither do I and neither did Saturday night.  My August run was and ante-upper.   An 8-mile trail run.  That's the equivalent of a 12k. I'll see your 5k's and raise you 7ks, muuuwhhhaahahahaaaa!!!
8 miles on no sleep, with very little preparation, but just enough advice from Lynn on what eat to keep my energy up and keep myself hydrated for what I hoped would be less than a 3 hour trek. Running is not my forte. 
But you know what they say? Go big or go home. 
A quick breakfast on the way to carb up, we arrived at the start line about an hour early,   grabbed our gear, stretched, hydrated, and I used the bathroom like 7 times! At an all women's race, the bathroom was line was EPIC.  
Lynn was doing the half marathon, so she started 10 minutes earlier than I did.  Which left me solo and with my own motivation.

Start time 08:55 am, I took my place at the back of the pack where I remained for the next 2:16 hours.  I wasn't competing with anyone but myself.  In my book, showing up, taking time out of my hectically busy schedule, I had already won. 
Of the family, my brother, who ran ACROSS the country last year for Batten Disease, is the marathoner. I have always been the support driver, the finish line sign holder, the girl behind the scenes who didn't believe that she could step out of the sidelines and get INTO the race. 
Not anymore.  Hell.  Highwater. Doubt. Distance. None of that was going to keep me from finishing.

Source: naturalcuriosities.com via Lauren on Pinterest

Short of injuries, I was getting it done. I don't know what took over, but I did a lot of thinking out there on the trails.  I occasionally looked up at the break in the trees and felt the sun shining down on me as I kept a steady pace. 

I talked to Catie, who I dedicated my run to, who had the disease that my brother ran to raise awareness for.  Catie was a fighter and now she's an angel. I remembered how much she used to run as a child. I thought of my brother and all the miles he put in over 4.5 months. I smiled for all the times I skipped the gym or stayed in bed...today kicked the ass of all those days. I thought of the people in my life with failing health. I thought about a lot. A steady stream of sweat reminded me that this was no stroll in the park. Fire roads, steep trials with roots cut in that made their own natural steps, tripping hazards reminding me to keep my eyes on the ground and directly in front of me. My pony tail pulling some kind of wiper blade action across my back, it stuck to me just enough to keep my arms stretched back behind me occasionally to adjust it. 
I played the same songs over and over again this {one}, that {one}, this{one} again, this {one} really got me moving:  Sometimes you gotta push 
Though all your obstacles... No matter what the options are 
There is no lose , there is no fail 
LETS GO... We were born to run
I kept going as my lungs adjusted, I remembered my yoga breathing, and paid attention to Lynn's advice, fuel up about every 20 minutes, take this for cramps, take that for hydration.  Walk, run, walk, run, walk, run...the other ladies on the trail and the volunteers smiled and told me I was doing a good job, don't stop, you're almost there, you're doing a great job, keep going.
And so I did.  I kept going.   One step at at time, 1/4 mark, 1/2 mark, 2 miles left...and before I knew it, I made it.  Finished, the end, pulled out my headphones so I could hear them announce my name as I crossed the finish line. 

I texted my family, my mom, my best friends, and my trainer. 

"Done.  2:16 minutes, 8 miles.  I did it."

{this pro procrastinator did the damn thing!}

The rest of the day was kind of an exhausted, sleep-sick blur.  We made our way back to Downtown, grabbed a big lunch, bought a couple of beach towels, and then I laid out on the beach and fell asleep in 75* of sun beating down on me in the sand.  

Another long trip back and more great conversation, I got my mangled body home in one piece, calling off the early morning training session, got the back end of my shift covered, and slept for 17 glorious hours ...this is what straight out of hibernation looks like. Sunburnt and sore as all get out, but rested and completely accomplished.

Today, just short of 48 hours later, my body hurts every where.  I can feel that expanse in my lungs all stretched out when I laugh or cough. I'm moving slow.  Real slow. I feel it in my back, in my abs, in my obliques...its pain, but its good pain. It's the kind of pain you earn...it's sweet satisfaction of doing something you never thought you were capable of. 

Source: runforthethrill.tumblr.com via Lauren on Pinterest

So I went from 5 to 8 and now...now, what's next?  

I dunno, but stay tuned...it'll be good whatever it is. 

sea.{sun}.sand.sanity

 Friday.  

The day I broke the vicious cycle of busy before I let it break me. 

It went a little like this: 

slept in ~ spent 30 minutes looking for a bathing suit top ~ arrived 2 hours late (I'm on Filipino time) to get Mellissa for our Beach Date ~ listened to 90's on 9 aaalllll day ~ made the mandatory caffeine stop before we got on the road ~ grabbed an incredible lunch to-go @ La Boulange on Fillmore: portabella brie sandwich - Parmesan truffle oil fries...oh my!

to the left                                      to the front                                              to the right

Destination: Baker Beach, the weather was perfect, just about 68*, which is warm for this part of the Pacific Coast.

 Inland, where we came from was projected to be 100*+.  Save me now. 

A day with no agenda, no deadline, nothing on the to-do list...just what a girl needed.

“My soul is full of longing
for the secret of the sea,
and the heart of the great ocean
sends a thrilling pulse through me.” 
― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The beach was hardly crowded, a handful of people there, couples cuddled up against the breeze, dog walkers, mostly tourists with cameras in hand, gasping at the sight of the GG Bridge from this vantage point.  I had to smile and shake my head at myself, like I occasionally  often do.  Home is home for me, and living this close to such a great landmark and such a great city, well...until I'm reminded, I forget how beautiful my little part of the world is. 

After a nice little nap in the sun, we took a little stroll down the beach to see how close we could get to the Bridge.  Sans shoes, walking barefoot in the sand, we opted not to climb the rocks to crawl under the bridge.  It was windy, self-portraits were challenging, but that was hardly a complaint on such a great day.  Well, no complaints but let me just give you the one caution should you choose to visit: there is a small portion of the beach down near the rocks as you walk towards the bridge, that is "clothing optional" and by "clothing optional" I mean, "really, guy, how do you just let those shrivelly things just hang  all out in the direct sun and not burn them?" 

As we walked off the beach, I saw this little old couple sitting close and I had to sneak a picture of them. He had his arm wrapped around her, she had her hand resting on his knee.  They weren't talking, just sitting there with each other, looking content together and staring out at the sea.  These sights make my heart happy. 

“Because there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away.” 
― Sarah Kay

A look out point just near the Presidio and just south of the 101 Northbound entrance - these trees, that Bridge, the vastness of the Bay...I could sit and stare for hours.

Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge as seen out of my sunroof, a bucket list item for some, a quick day trip for me.  It's always an awesome sight no matter how many times I get to see it.

One of these days, I do believe I will have to create 

The Sunroof Series: A Photojournal as Seen from my Car in Motion 

I have a tradition, no trip to the beach is complete without stopping at Guymas for dinner, which is right on the Bay, a ferry port in Tiburon.  We timed it just right and hit happy hour: $2 oyster shooters, street tacos, and appetizers.  

A stroll through the Friday night street fair and a couple of wildberry mojitos  later, I couldn't help but notice that the drink must have gotten it's purple inspiration from the the colors that the sun was using to paint portraits in the sky.  

I simply cannot get enough of the sunsets/sunrises in the last few weeks.  

This picture is just as my camera took it, no filter, no edit, no added saturation.  

The sky is just incredible this time of year but a visit to the San Francisco Bay is good any day of the year.  

When the lights go down in the City
And the sun shines on the bay
Do I want to be there in my City

~ Journey 

confessions {lies} & sweat stains

I have a confession.

I'm putting myself on notice...I have 18 (count em!!) eight-teen 30- minute personal training sessions that have been sitting on the books at Fitness 19 for like 3 years. I'm a card carrying member of not 1 but 2 local gyms and the downtown yoga studio.  I have 3 expired sessions at the pilates studio on Main St.  Four years ago (wtf?!), I won a Crossfit package for a month of membership and free training sessions,and NEVER cashed it in.  I have 4 brand new racquetballs still airtight fresh sitting in my passenger's seat and a racquet sharing the back seat of my car with a set of 5lb hand weights, a fitness mat, a yoga mat, and a pair of Brooks running shoes. 

I've been posing like someone who gives a rat's ass about being a gym rat.  I'm a poser.

3 years...that's 36 months...1,095 days...26, 280 hours...

I"m 31, that's almost 10% of my life 

{Father, it has been 36 months, 1,095 days, and 26, 280 hours since my last confession}

I haven't cancelled my membership because even burning that fee every month is still like 1/6 of the cost of those session I bought with a tax return a few years back when I declared it the Year of Lauren.  It was the year of Bullshit and Lies I told my body.  The lies were intoxicating, they took over my mind and my will power too. 



I have THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY FIVE PINS labeled "Get Fit" on just one Pinterest board.  Go ahead, take a look.  That's just another thing I'm hoarding.  Good Lawd, someone call the Procrastination & Full of BS Police and tell them I need to assume the position.  

So, I am writing you, whoever you are reading this blog,  along with the the inner circle of folks  who I already sent this to on Facebook, the ones I know will ride my ass and my case about it...go ahead, feel free to remind me constantly 'bout this confessional. 

I.have.no.more.excuses.

Even the guy on the phone at the gym scoffed when he looked up my account. Wow you have a lot of sessions he said... That shit ain't cheap...it's like an entire monthly mortgage payment full of sessions. If I could cash them out I would, but I can't so I'm gonna invest in some serious sweat equity. 

Martha Focker...don't let me get away with this shit again. I'm going in this Thursday at 12:30 to meet up with Dulon, his muscle shirt, the red clipboard, and that unwavering trainer's stare that makes my little excuses pee in their little pants.  He'll remember me and kick my ass again until I'm about damn ready to pass out. He'll have me running stairs and doing squats like I'm training for the Porta-potty squat Olympics. 

Skinny and flawless be damned...I'm not totally comfortable in my skin, I'm a chick with insecurities. I suck it when I take pictures, and I feel all the jigggly bits jiggling when I'd rather they not, but you better believe I've never been that girl who hides in her house cause she's afraid of a little muffin top.

  Confident is sexy.

I  know this.  I don't lack confidence, but I can always be a better, stronger, happier, healthier version of me.

We all can.  

Now, this isn't the first time I've written about this health & fitness struggle in a blog.  In fact, writing about my fitness battle has been one of the ligaments in the body of work that's been my private, personal blog for the last four years.  

But this is about accountability right?  

Ok, so here's to accountablity.  

Here they are, in all their self-deprecating, hopeful, full of sweat stains and self-loathing, spandex pants and sports bras glory. 

weight loss? boom!

yoga? bam!

Part of the glory of blogging is having it accessible at the refreshing of a web browser for some insta-motivation.  I joined a fitness bootcamp last September and I still have kept that weight off.  It was slow and oh so sweaty, but it worked. My inner Scarlet O'Hara took over and drove me to camp in the far too early morning hours before my brain was awake and then she grimaced through gritted teeth and blinked through salty sweat stained lashes one torturous squat and one breathless lap at at time.  

Bootcamp, those are the blogs I go back to when the voices in my head grow from a whisper to the thundering chants of a stadium roar telling me that I'm too tired, I have to much else to do, I can do it tomorrow, my feet hurt, my boobs hurt, I think I'm getting a cold, I have to be up early, snivel, whine, cry, pout...

That blog, it's unapologetic, guileless, and raw.  It is the sweat stain in my sports bra, the stretch in my workout pants, and the grimmace on my face everytime my muscles got ripped apart and grew back even stronger.  It's the aching, the pains, the frustration, and the gasping of my stagnant lungs.

outdoor adventure bootcamp sessions? Pow!  

and then in anthology form: 

Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Day 8, Day 9, the last week

Even if you just read day 1 and then the last week, you'll see the change. 

Bootcamp, now that was a big pick me up moment, or actually it was a series of weekly pick me ups.  One of the better decisions I made for myself in recent years.  The blogs I kept about them, I just read through some of them,and damn this girl can find a way to turn a phrase.  

You know what else? 

You better believe she can find herself again in the reflection in her own puddle of sweat as she eeeks out a few more laps and drops to her knees for a few more push-ups.

You see, I can make some great decisions for myself, it's just the consistency that's the issue.  

What finally spurred this after all the years of self-sabotage?

Today's themed picture of the day from my July Photo a Day Challenge: "Mirror" 

Well this is my mirror, the 3-year old reflection of lazy procrastination on my to-do list staring me down until I finally said ENOUGH!  

I loose sight of myself now and then.

We all do.  

But I just can't close my eyes and turn away from my own reflection any more. 

I know better.

You see this isn't about body image, sex appeal, the note's in my doctor's charts, this is all about me.

It's to me, for me, about me, from me.  

It's just about me.  

This is my time and it's about damn time.

Just for good measure and to expand my circle of accountability, I'm linking this little confessional of mine to the arena of the ladies (and gentlemen) of the GFC Blog Hop. Welcome strangers and new friends. Feel free to remind me that I have set a goal and I have nothing holding me back.