Rachel, lying in her cuddlduds on the couch, having read all of your posts about Turkey Trots, thankfulness and warm family recipes of pie, stuffing and all things carb-a-licious.
If I could remove any one word from my vocabulary and life, it would be this word. I should have run a 5k turkey trot. I should have hosted Thanksgiving again this year. I should be excited about sweet potatoes and turkey breasts. Truth: I didn’t, I couldn’t, I’m not.
After we pass this holiday there will no doubt be much discussion about the “true meaning” of the season aka Chanukah/Christmas/Festivus/Kwanza and so on. But before we get there, I am here, in total conflict over what this holiday is about.
Is it about the food? I mean who can make it through this day without thinking about a meal that includes all kinds of trimmings? From turkey to tofurkey this day is food-centric. And damn if this whole year hasn’t been the most food-focused, count calories-protiens-carbs-sugars of my life. Over the past year I have worked my ass off to train my body how to eat and crave differently. Forget that I have been in the restaurant business since I was knee high to a grasshopper – I have learned more about food and nutrition in this past year of my life than all of them combined. I have built a new life built on portions and control. Today is about expandable pants and farting to make room for pie (or wait – is that just me?). Today feels hard, its messing with my memories and prior feelings of carefree pie choosing bliss.
Is it about just being together as family? Perhaps it is, but today I just want to curl up and grieve. People have been asking “do you have big plans for the day?” I say something like “yeah, well my family is mostly dead with the exception of the ones that are out of town … getting together with Sweeties family.” I swear when I say it, it doesn’t sound as horrible as when I write it, but writing it somehow I can see the pain underneath. This holiday is one where I almost always miss my dad. I made his stuffing again this year, and again this year it didn’t come out like his. I want to call him and ask what I did wrong, but well what’s that saying about not knowing the area code to heaven? I want to show up at his house, having lost all this weight so far this year, and run into his arms and have him be a little drunk, telling me how proud of me he is. Noone can fill in for this insane request. And it sucks. You’d think I was used to this.
If you saw my facebook feed this morning you’d swear today was all about running. Fun runs, turkey trots, little kids and friends I had no idea even thought about running; they all ran today. I didn’t. I keep telling myself I still might, but the truth is, I don’t want to. I mean I WANT the feeling, I just don’t want the work. I want to be lazy, but I hate all of the mental games it plays on me. I want to rest, but I can only see all of those fitness motivational posters telling me “when you think about quitting, remember why you started” and “the difference between who you are & who you want to be is what you do!” Ugh. Truth, these sayings have got me by over the last 10 months. Also true: these sayings are plaguing me today.
My baby sister, an avid fan of me AND running called me to wish me Happy Thanksgiving today. I told her about some of the running guilt I was having. She reminded me how hard I have worked, and that it is ok to just rest some days. I don’t believe her, but I am grateful for her saying so. Ah ha! Hey—did you hear that? I am grateful! Maybe there is some sort of hope for me yet.