Couch 2 5K --the saga continues--long as usual
Hello OH buddies! I know I have been off the radar for a while but I haven't had anything much to report. I haven't quit my C25K---in fact, of the 25 or so original members of the group, I am one of about 3 people that haven't missed a session. Even the Large Lady, the Old Lady and the Rode Hard Lady have not been there for a couple of sessions. They may have blown me away on the track but I get brownie points for perseverance!!
A couple of weeks ago, I saw my PCP for my regular check up and I told him my large left incision area was really, really sore after I jogged. So like a good doc, he said "don't do that". Duh....he went to school and gets paid big bucks for such profound wisdom. So for the last two weeks, I've been walking as fast as my chubby little legs will carry me.
I am beginning to think some of the soreness was from the warm up stretches. I call them the "Tittie Twisters" because someone with ta-tas as big as mine, can't twist into those positions.
I am up to walking almost the whole 5K without falling over dead. However, this past week, I thought I was going to die right there on the track and it had nothing to do with how fast I was walking.
My granddaughter didn't get to go with me so I was walking alone. I had my headphones on and was jamming to some tunes. During my first lap, I noticed two kids (boys about 8 or 9) on bikes that were getting awfully close when they passed me on the track. The would ride up ahead and turn around to come back past me. It had just rained and they made a point of riding thru puddles beside the track, splashing me with water. Occasionally they would yell out a foul word or make a comment about my behind then giggle and ride off. I had earlier seen them terrorizing smaller kids on the playground.
I was on my last lap and within about 50 feet of my finish line when one of the little varmints decided to play chicken with me. He rode straight toward me with his head down and a look on his face like a demented dive bomber. I gritted my teeth and decided that I was not going to give him the satisfaction of moving over. Well about 2 feet before a collision, we both chickened out. Unfortunately, we both zigged when one of us should've zagged. We hit with a bang and ended up in a tangle of arms, legs and bike wheels. I was waving my arms and trying to keep from falling while he was trying to jump off his bike. In my desperation to find balance, I grabbed at the air and grabbed the back of his t-shirt. I held on for dear life and jerked him off that bike. We ended up clutching each other but upright. His friend was off his bike, running around us in circles and yapping like a crazed lap dog. Once my world quit rocking, I grabbed that kid up, nose to nose and told him that if he was my kid, I'd beat him so hard his grand-kids would be brain damaged. He went white as a sheet behind his freckles and I thought he was going to cry. I was too mad to care. I asked the boys if they lived near the park. Silence. There was a little league game nearby so I dragged him by the scruff of the neck toward the bleachers, giving him an occasional shake and preaching all the way:
So you think it's funny to splash muddy water on people, huh? {Shake, shake}
Do you think it's nice to call your elders foul names? {Shake, shake}
You could've really hurt us both you little brat? {Shake, shake}
Just wait til I find your momma. I hope she beats the stuffings out of you. {Shake, shake}
The other kid was still yapping and trying to get in my way. I stopped my preaching and shaking long enough to say "Shut up you little turd" and resume dragging his friend. That made said Turd whail louder.
Just as I got to the Little League field, an inning was over and the teams were switching places. I marched over to the bleachers and announced "Is anyone here the proud parent of this child?" Dead silence. Finally, a very, very large man stood up. I thought, "Oh, **** I'm going to die." Then I realized that I knew him. It was one of our City cops that I knew well. He said, "Hello, Ms. Leslie, what has my boy done now?" So I proceeded to tell him. The boy's face got whiter and he seemed to shrink in my grip. His dad seemed to get bigger and his eyes shot fire. Dad reassured me that it wouldn't happen again and marched the little demon off. I almost felt sorry for him.
Just then the yapper started yelling "Racist!! She called me names!!" I turned around to the yapper because I was going to march him off to his parents when this very angry looking woman with blazing eyes came around the corner. The yapper said, "You're gonna get it now lady. My Momma don't like bossy white women." Again, I thought "Oh **** I'm going to die". And my obit in the paper was going to say that I died after inciting a race riot. The yapper went running to this very imposing woman and started crying and blubbering. The lady asked him what I said to him. He told her I called him a turd because a turd is brown and so was he so that was racist. Huh? I was dumbfounded.
Now let me say right here that I am not racist. I don't care what color you skin is, who you worship, where you are from, or any of that stuff. We are all God's children and have worth. I judge people on how they treat me and how they treat others. It had never occurred to me that the Yapper was a different race than the other kid. They were being brats and I happened to grab the only one that was close.
The lady looked at me and I looked at her. Then she laughed out loud. "Child", she said, "you are a turd and doesn't have anything to do with being brown." She then looked at me and said, "Why did you call my child names?" So I told her. The longer I talked, the fiercer she looked. I began to REALLY feel sorry for this kid but glad that she wasn't looking at me that way anymore. When I finished, she assured me that it wouldn't happen again. She got that kid by the arm and dragged him off, preaching to him in a low voice. He looked back at me several times with eyes as big as saucers. I smiled and waved at him.
I felt so good about seeing justice done and knowing that there are still responsible parents in this world that I did another lap. If those parents hadn't seen things the way they did, I might've gotten in trouble for correcting the behavior of someone else's kids. I was too mad at the time and too offended as a parent myself to think before I acted (I have a tendency to not think before I act sometimes but that's a whole other story.)
I marched off in a dignified strut with my head held high. About a quarter of the way around the track I realized that my pants were falling down and my crack was probably showing. I hitched them up and held on for dear life, never altering my strut. Time for new pants......
A couple of weeks ago, I saw my PCP for my regular check up and I told him my large left incision area was really, really sore after I jogged. So like a good doc, he said "don't do that". Duh....he went to school and gets paid big bucks for such profound wisdom. So for the last two weeks, I've been walking as fast as my chubby little legs will carry me.
I am beginning to think some of the soreness was from the warm up stretches. I call them the "Tittie Twisters" because someone with ta-tas as big as mine, can't twist into those positions.
I am up to walking almost the whole 5K without falling over dead. However, this past week, I thought I was going to die right there on the track and it had nothing to do with how fast I was walking.
My granddaughter didn't get to go with me so I was walking alone. I had my headphones on and was jamming to some tunes. During my first lap, I noticed two kids (boys about 8 or 9) on bikes that were getting awfully close when they passed me on the track. The would ride up ahead and turn around to come back past me. It had just rained and they made a point of riding thru puddles beside the track, splashing me with water. Occasionally they would yell out a foul word or make a comment about my behind then giggle and ride off. I had earlier seen them terrorizing smaller kids on the playground.
I was on my last lap and within about 50 feet of my finish line when one of the little varmints decided to play chicken with me. He rode straight toward me with his head down and a look on his face like a demented dive bomber. I gritted my teeth and decided that I was not going to give him the satisfaction of moving over. Well about 2 feet before a collision, we both chickened out. Unfortunately, we both zigged when one of us should've zagged. We hit with a bang and ended up in a tangle of arms, legs and bike wheels. I was waving my arms and trying to keep from falling while he was trying to jump off his bike. In my desperation to find balance, I grabbed at the air and grabbed the back of his t-shirt. I held on for dear life and jerked him off that bike. We ended up clutching each other but upright. His friend was off his bike, running around us in circles and yapping like a crazed lap dog. Once my world quit rocking, I grabbed that kid up, nose to nose and told him that if he was my kid, I'd beat him so hard his grand-kids would be brain damaged. He went white as a sheet behind his freckles and I thought he was going to cry. I was too mad to care. I asked the boys if they lived near the park. Silence. There was a little league game nearby so I dragged him by the scruff of the neck toward the bleachers, giving him an occasional shake and preaching all the way:
So you think it's funny to splash muddy water on people, huh? {Shake, shake}
Do you think it's nice to call your elders foul names? {Shake, shake}
You could've really hurt us both you little brat? {Shake, shake}
Just wait til I find your momma. I hope she beats the stuffings out of you. {Shake, shake}
The other kid was still yapping and trying to get in my way. I stopped my preaching and shaking long enough to say "Shut up you little turd" and resume dragging his friend. That made said Turd whail louder.
Just as I got to the Little League field, an inning was over and the teams were switching places. I marched over to the bleachers and announced "Is anyone here the proud parent of this child?" Dead silence. Finally, a very, very large man stood up. I thought, "Oh, **** I'm going to die." Then I realized that I knew him. It was one of our City cops that I knew well. He said, "Hello, Ms. Leslie, what has my boy done now?" So I proceeded to tell him. The boy's face got whiter and he seemed to shrink in my grip. His dad seemed to get bigger and his eyes shot fire. Dad reassured me that it wouldn't happen again and marched the little demon off. I almost felt sorry for him.
Just then the yapper started yelling "Racist!! She called me names!!" I turned around to the yapper because I was going to march him off to his parents when this very angry looking woman with blazing eyes came around the corner. The yapper said, "You're gonna get it now lady. My Momma don't like bossy white women." Again, I thought "Oh **** I'm going to die". And my obit in the paper was going to say that I died after inciting a race riot. The yapper went running to this very imposing woman and started crying and blubbering. The lady asked him what I said to him. He told her I called him a turd because a turd is brown and so was he so that was racist. Huh? I was dumbfounded.
Now let me say right here that I am not racist. I don't care what color you skin is, who you worship, where you are from, or any of that stuff. We are all God's children and have worth. I judge people on how they treat me and how they treat others. It had never occurred to me that the Yapper was a different race than the other kid. They were being brats and I happened to grab the only one that was close.
The lady looked at me and I looked at her. Then she laughed out loud. "Child", she said, "you are a turd and doesn't have anything to do with being brown." She then looked at me and said, "Why did you call my child names?" So I told her. The longer I talked, the fiercer she looked. I began to REALLY feel sorry for this kid but glad that she wasn't looking at me that way anymore. When I finished, she assured me that it wouldn't happen again. She got that kid by the arm and dragged him off, preaching to him in a low voice. He looked back at me several times with eyes as big as saucers. I smiled and waved at him.
I felt so good about seeing justice done and knowing that there are still responsible parents in this world that I did another lap. If those parents hadn't seen things the way they did, I might've gotten in trouble for correcting the behavior of someone else's kids. I was too mad at the time and too offended as a parent myself to think before I acted (I have a tendency to not think before I act sometimes but that's a whole other story.)
I marched off in a dignified strut with my head held high. About a quarter of the way around the track I realized that my pants were falling down and my crack was probably showing. I hitched them up and held on for dear life, never altering my strut. Time for new pants......
Never, never, never give up!...though she be but little, she is FIERCE...
A Midsummer Night's Dream
Millersdaughter,
I so love reading your posts. This one was great as usual. I as a parent would love for someone to report to me if my child was acting crazy like those children. You are far more patient like I am, but great job teaching those kids a lesson.
I so love reading your posts. This one was great as usual. I as a parent would love for someone to report to me if my child was acting crazy like those children. You are far more patient like I am, but great job teaching those kids a lesson.
HW286/SW269/1mo-20lbs/2 mo-9lbs/3 mo-10lbs
1st Goal - Loss of 50lbs
1st Goal - Loss of 50lbs
I am glad that you took stand and found those kids parents. I have three younger kids and I tell you if they ever treated anyone that way----they wouldn't be sitting down for a week.
I am starting the couch to 5k this monday----I am excited and nervous but I am going to give it my best shot. We don't have a group here that are offering it----I downloaded an application off my android phone that will play music and it will give me a notification between when it is time to walk and to jog/run. I got a couple of friends who are going to do it with me so it should be fun---as long as nobody gets hurt!
I am starting the couch to 5k this monday----I am excited and nervous but I am going to give it my best shot. We don't have a group here that are offering it----I downloaded an application off my android phone that will play music and it will give me a notification between when it is time to walk and to jog/run. I got a couple of friends who are going to do it with me so it should be fun---as long as nobody gets hurt!
First Goal: loss of 30.25 pounds (1/4 of weight) GOAL MET ON 6/15/2011
Second Goal: loss of 60.5 pounds (1/2 of weight) GOAL MET ON 9/24/2011
Third Goal: loss of 90.75 pounds (3/4 of weight)
Fourth Goal: loss of 121 pounds (100% of weight)
Great Post, as usual!! I am a school bus driver, and what I usually run into with parents is that their sweet little baby walks on water! Good for those parents you dealt with, that took care of the situation! As others have said, I would want to know what my child was up to, but I don't run into good success of talking to my student's parents sometimes!!
Good for you for sticking out the c25k!!
Keep those posts comin'!!
Good for you for sticking out the c25k!!
Keep those posts comin'!!
I am 5' 7" tall and 35-years-old **Sheri**
My ticker shows who I did this for: Azure and Malachi
July 10th, 2011: Down 26 lbs. and 15 1/4 ".
Aug. 10th, 2011: Down 14 lbs. and 13 3/4 ".
Sept. 10th, 2011:
Oct. 10th, 2011:
Wow- as a parent of 8 and 10 year old boys- you are AMAZING! I would be absolutely mortified if my boys did something like that! You just may have changed their lives today (and maybe their parents got a reality check)! Thanks for sharing this as I know I have a hard time sticking up for myself because I don't know what the end result will be (more painful than the actual incident?). So it's good for the "next time" to remember sometimes it DOES turn out feeling pretty damn good! Thanks again and keep up the hard work in ALL areas of your life- and go buy more pants before you get cited by that police officer for flashing his son!
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