Tag: men

Oops

Rash news to follow——- you have been warned 😉

………………………

So, the rash is still around, but the tea tree oil treatments seems to be helping significantly. It is only a light pink now, and the skin is dry, with layers peeling off regularly.

That being said, I had a laser hair removal appointment today. If you recall, I first noticed the rash just before my last appointment. At that appointment, the technician certainly noticed the rash and asked about if I was okay, in pain, or whatever. This time, she asked if I still had it. We chatted briefly about the diagnosis and the of late improvements. Upon learning that the rash didn’t actually hurt in any way, and wasn’t uncomfortable physically at all, she asked how I ever noticed it in the first place. When I was shaving?

“No,” I almost snort, “not shaving.”

As I pause to consider how I, in fact, first noticed it, so many weeks ago, she has a short shock of realization strike her face, and she says, as though having realized a major blunder, “Oh…, someone told you.”

It took me only a moment, and then it clicked. And I started to laugh. She was so chastened, and yet she had no actual reason to be. She likely remembered that I have no boyfriend and have had none for many, many years. And she most certainly thought that I was looking for a way not to say that someone else, meaning a guy, had noticed it during a sexual interaction of some sort, and had informed me of the rash.

I clarified for her – not because I was embarrassed, but because I wanted her not to be – how I, on my own, had discovered the rash one night.

It was simultaneously a hilarious and adorable interaction for me, and I loved it.

Post-a-day 2021

Ouch…

But seriously, who invented all the nonsense that goes alongside menstruation? Utter nonsense… ::facepalm

Anyway, this weekend, I saw the wife of someone I know. Though I had seen the husband many, many times, I had not seen the wife until this Saturday.

When I first saw her, it took a few moments to process fully what I was seeing. Then it took another few moments to allow for my initial reactions. And another few to crave indulging in them. And a final few to allow them just to be, and then, therefore, to release. Rather than being upset by what I saw, I knew I could have it be a positive experience – even if it took some effort.

“Body goals,” I told myself, letting it fall heavily from my lips, the initial sigh thereby dispersed. Music was playing loudly at the gym, so I had no overhearing ears. I really only could feel the words vibrate through my body, as it wasn’t loud enough for my own ears to hear over the music.

But I felt it… and in more ways than one.

After that, I kept going back and forth between awe at how amazing she was physically, and wanting to break down crying at how far away I am from that right now.

I knew pitying myself was neither necessary nor valuable, so I always let that one go. But that didn’t stop it from co to hint to pop up at intervals throughout the whole day afterward, and even the following day somewhat.

As a friend reminded me later, the wife probably wasn’t like that when they got married, and it probably took her years to get to that point. Same for the husband. (Though, he was always less intimidating or whatever, because he’s male, I suppose.) It wasn’t an overnight process for either of them, and they probably weren’t already like that when they first met one another or even got married.

That idea gives me hope… that I can find someone who is fit beautifully already and who values my own work thus far, but who will continue to grow with me and thereby support and empower me o to further-enhanced fitness throughout our future. I would continue this same road, but no longer on my own. I’d have a true partner in crime for it all. (So to speak, that is… haha)

Anyway,… there’s that ouch and the menstruation and resulting digestion ouch, and the utter exhaustion that they and all the other stress have brought for this evening.

Alas, I shall now go sleep… with an alarm every two-ish hours, of course, to use the bathroom. ::facepalm I swear…, whoever made up this nonsense must have been severely out of his wits at the time… Man…

Post-a-day 2021

Lolz

Okay, now I actually broke it. Well, I denied every possibility it had to offer me, anyway.

Pretty darn ridiculous, huh? Haha

I have always held that I am extremely picky. I have genuine and intense standards, and will hold to them. So far, these average men of Houston are not meeting those standards.

And that’s completely okay and entirely perfect. I trust in God and The Cosmos and Energy. When it is time, it will be time. Until that time, it is not yet time. It’s as simple as that. 🙂

Post-a-day 2021

Back on the log*

I stayed in bed – with possibly six bathroom breaks (number one only) – from 7:45pm to about 6:45am this morning. My sleep was fitful. I did my feel entirely rested when I got up. However, my bowels functioned somewhat normally, and without any pains, and that was a total win.

I still felt slow, my lower belly and lower right edge were still uncomfortable (but not in pain), and I was somehow a bit clumsy, but I felt significantly improved overall. It still took effort to talk, but a whole lot more came out, whenever I did attempt speaking, and much sooner than it had taken every time yesterday. My mom noticed that part immediately when we finally spoke later in the morning.

I wasn’t sure how the day would progress, and was worried I might have to be home and, possibly, in bed most of the day. By nine o’clock, I had determined that I likely would go in to work. It was only for three hours today, and the prospect of being at home all alone, especially with the discomfort and all, was not a delightful one. So, I took a fitful nap, after eating some, and then got up and went in. I was slow-moving still, with a light sensation of my guts being as of yet undetermined as to when they might escape my body and in which direction they might choose to do that escape.

I adjusted after a little while to being able to talk to people quite normally, and eventually was at almost full normalcy on that front. I was able to walk around a bit faster near the end, and even jogged back inside, when I discovered that I’d left my smoothie near-dregs in the fridge. That surprised me, even.

I did my grocery shopping, and headed home to change. Since late morning, I had been messaging a buddy from the gym about running together this afternoon/evening. He hadn’t replied to my inquiry yesterday (about running today), and I knew he probably had been out drinking.

Turns out that he had arrived home around 3:30am last night/this morning. I told him that 13+ hours was plenty of recovery time, and that, though he claimed he felt like he was dying, I had almost ended up in Urgent Care, and so he and I could die together – it would be better to die in good company than all alone, after all.

He allowed that we could make it work, assuming he didn’t feel quite so terrible by the evening. We agreed that we would be in touch after I finished grocery shopping in the afternoon.

By the time, however, that he responded to my messages in the afternoon, he told me that he was out drinking… right then. Can we get a facepalm, please?? ;P

I considered running to the bar to meet him, partly for getting back at him for leaving me hanging, and partly for my desire not to be left alone with whatever was going on in my belly. It was gorgeous outside, and I knew it was an outdoor patio kind of place, only a 5k from my house. However, he was actually doing some one-on-one time with a friend from out of town, and so I did not do that.

(Okay, but when was he planning to run with me, if he had the friend in all weekend, anyway?? Either he’s a sneaky liar or wasn’t thinking, I dare say.)

And so, I went running in my own. What had intended to be a short little run, maybe two miles at most (plus a .05 as stretch beyond the goal), and at a slower, we-are-ill pace, turned out to be a full-on ladder run – with the 10lb vest, recall – that ended up being the third-fastest 5k I have ever done. Period. That means without any weighted vest for those fastest times. And I did my third-fastest with a 10lb vest on me, wondering the whole time if I might hurl or just sh** my pants at any given moment.

That is some other-world Goggins stuff right there.* Nearly end up in a hospital in the morning, have a panic attack, work out late morning, nearly fall apart trying to work in the afternoon, so go home and get ready for bed at 4:45pm. Sleep forever, wake up still sick, go to work again anyway, and then do one of the hardest and most successful runs of my life, considering if and when I might need to crap or vomit on the side of the road somewhere. (I actually did come very close to vomiting right after I set out!)

So, yeah… what a day…

*If you don’t get the references, read David Goggins’s book, Can’t Hurt Me.

Post-a-day 2021

No faking it

At the gym yesterday morning, a fellow gym-goer asked me how I was doing. I always consider the answer to such an inquiry fully before answering, and so I told him with a shrug that I was, ‘alright.” After a few beats of silent, accepting nods from him and the other guy with us, he commented on my honesty, and that it was clear that I was being honest.

We all kind of chuckled at that, as I said that things were going just alright, and I wasn’t going to lie. The other guy said that he wouldn’t have been honest about it, if things were going well for him. The first guy totally agreed, as we all laughed, adding that he would have even said “good,” but that he would have said things were going “great,” if he’d been asked and things were going crappily at the time. We all were laughing at that.

“I will always be honest,” I told them. If you ask me, I will answer honestly.

And then we started talking about the workout I had just done and that they were about to do. Of course, I discussed it honestly. 😛

This is likely to be one of those incidents that sticks with me for a long time. It is extremely valuable to me. I was 100% myself, with no struggles or worries, and with no stories. And, though we all acknowledged in the moment that my behavior was abnormal, it wasn’t a bad thing and it wasn’t shoved away. It was embraced, despite the fact that those embracing it would not have done it themselves. And nobody shoved anything under the rug. We all just acknowledged what was so, accepted one another as we are, and thereby showed true love. And I love that kind of love.

I look forward to more and more of such opportunities and experiences in my life as that one was.

Post-a-day 2021

Ready, go!

I was nervous about sparring.

Extremely nervous.

I was actually shaking while I waited for my turn. So, I kept breathing consciously deep.

When I began sparring, I destroyed.

Both of my classmates, I utterly destroyed. Yes, the first got in a few points – we were doing practice, so there was no stopping just because a point was made – and the second finally did, when I purposely slowed up on him. And the third opponent was the main instructor. She definitely got me several times, but I was right there with her, getting point after point against her.

In my second one, I initially just went for it. When, however, my opponent’s splotchy face caught my eye, and I saw tears brimming, I found that I all too clearly could relate. I was, basically, pummeling him. Just as we were told to do, I gave combination after combination. And almost every strike hit home. In his first bout, he and his opponent had rather fooled around, hadn’t maintained stances, and hadn’t done almost any combinations, despite the real-time encouragement from both instructors. (The lead is his mother.) I was matched with him, I believe, to help teach him a lesson.

And he learned it hard. No, the locks and punches were not hard. Just the lesson was. When I saw his brimming tears, I knew the lesson had settled. I calmed my attack, gave him some words of encouragement to, ‘Come on,’ and allowed him some breathing time and space between my attacks. He eventually rallied himself and got there, landing a few points with his combinations and my relaxed defense.

I patted him on the back and shook his shoulders after we finished. We both knew exactly what had just happened a all of it. He knew I had seen him crying. He knew I had let up. And he knew I had wanted him to figure it out and get it right.

And we necessarily had bonded over it.

It was really cool. And I was certainly grateful to be on the other end of such an encounter for once – so many times have I been in that intense space of frustration and tears. I imagine I likely will be back there again at some point, if not many points in my future. For this time, though, I am grateful that I was able to help the person on that end, to encourage and empower him, and to remind him that, despite his frustration, he has enough to offer and he can do it.

Nonetheless, it’s still a bit silly: I made a kid cry. 😛

When I sparred with the instructor, I was ready to be the one not as prepared. And I took it on comfortably and with gratitude for the opportunity to spar against one who is much more experienced than I am. And, I believe, it is because I maintained that calm comfort that I was able to do so well against her.

A lot seems to be amiss in my life right now. This is not one of those things. For whatever reason, karate is exactly where I need to be right now.

Thank you, God and Cosmos.

P.S. Happy Earth Day, folks!! ❤

Post-a-day 2021

Future

Yeah, okay… I’m terrified. I guess I got back into my head with everything, and pulled myself off track.

And that’s okay.

I acknowledge it for what it is, and allow myself the space to move forward from it, now.

Being stuck sucks, and I think that fact alone is helping to push my over the edge and get me moving forward effectively again, terror and all still present, of course. I am afraid of being fully my best self. Perhaps that fear is because I might feel that I have been letting myself down for so long by not being my best self. Perhaps I will feel that way. But, as David Goggins says in his book, just because I have all the reasons in the world not to do something, it doesn’t mean that I have to take those reasons and follow that path – I can still choose to have things go differently, despite all the excuses and reasons available to me for not doing what I deep down want to do.

And I deep down want to do this.

Hannah, I’m coming for you. Sleep well tonight, do the storm is brewing and lighting is preparing to explode all around with pure power and light.

Post-a-day 2021

Intentionally Picky

I do not claim not to be picky. Indeed, on the important things, I will not settle – I accept only exactly what is perfect, and what is perfect happens also to be exactly what I want.

For example, when I want an apple, there is an image in my mind, on my taste buds, on my teeth of exactly what I want. If it is a deep pink, small apple, with hints of yellow and near-red, then I simply will deny any other apple available to me. It is not snobbery. It is merely being aware of what it is I want – and why I want it, specifically – and being conscious enough to acknowledge that anything else is superfluous. For whatever reason, my body wants that apple. Not a green one; not a red one; not an underripe pink one… that one. Consider the idea of needing a bunch of protein, and someone offers a handful of grass to eat. It just doesn’t make sense to consider the grass as an answer to the need for protein. Whatever is in that apple is only in that apple and in the right amounts.

Now, that might be a somewhat terrible comparison, but it was meant well. ;P

Today, I spent some… time… on Bumble, the dating application. Recall my pickiness with apples and just about anything else in life – I’ve gone years in search of the right shirt and skirt combination, never settling (though, I did recently find the skirt!). Men are no different. What I am seeing in a partner, in a mate in life follows the same guidelines and criteria of either being exactly what I seek or superfluous.

And I think I broke Bumble.

It just kind of… ran out. Of options, I mean. When I had swiped “no” after the who-knows-how-many-hundreth person, the application seemed just to give up, saying, ‘Nope. We don’t have anyone for you right now. Check back again soon.’

Note the following screen:

Yeah. So, that happened. And, even when I closed the application and relaunched it, the screen happened again… and again and again and again.

And so, i accepted Bumble’s quiet yet oh-so-loud message, and closed it up, not even the least bit of concern in my mind. When it is time, it is time. And right now is the time not to bother with the online dating application. Perhaps it never will be again. And perhaps it will be one day. For now, however, my message was clear: Be here, in person, and life will meet me where I follow my heart.

I guess I am signing up for that volunteering next week after all. 🙂

Post-a-day 2021

^Had to think about it again… and I was doing so well! Haha

Saturday morning shows?

Saturday morning. Sleep in. Relax. Restore.

And then go to the gym, right? 😛

When I first joined the gym, I rarely made it to the Saturday workout, because it was at 9am. I was not a morning person. Period. Even as a child, I missed all the best Saturday morning cartoons, because I was, as my sister said, “a sleeper”. When I joined the gym, I was also deemed by the owner to be “a nooner”. And, when I walked into that noon class each day, I had only just woken up to an alarm maybe an hour earlier. For most of my life, the opportunity to sleep in usually meant I would sleep until close to noon, if not later. And that’s even if I went to bed at ten-ish the night before. At some point last year, all that shifted, my body determined that 4:00 was a good time to awaken – and that is AM – and I went ahead and adjusted my life to fit it. Now, I usually wake up before my 4:20am alarm, I go easily and gladly to the 5:15am workout, and I go to bed around 8:30-9:00pm each night. Sure, there are days that go longer than others, but I usually end up waking up at the same time, anyway, the next morning.

That being said, nowadays, when I am considering attending the Saturday workout, I just sleep on in, and then decide when I get up if I want to go. And I can do that, because sleeping in means sleeping until roughly 6:00 or so most Saturdays. If I stay up late Friday night, and I’ve been up late other nights in the given week, too, I might even sleep until around 8:00am. But that one is more rare.

In addition, there is now a 10:00am weightlifting class, which is specifically focused on building strength and on improving aesthetics. I have been purposely aiming to increase my strength…, and my physical aesthetic lately, so… I dare say that it is a class I could appreciate greatly.

Basically, that means I love my Saturday mornings now, more than ever. But not a lot of people attend the lift class. They prefer the cardio-strong class at 9am still. I don’t mind that class, but it isn’t a good idea to do both – not at this point in my body’s path, anyway – so I have to pick one. Of course, I pick the lift one. Strength is my current weakness, after all. Who else tends to do the lift class? Take the stereotype on this one, folks: men.

And so, how did I spend my Saturday morning today? I slept in (which felt amazing), and then I went to the gym for an awesome workout, which I did while being surrounded by five ridiculously fit guys who also were workout out. And most of us were shirtless…. talk about glorious, gleaming abs and muscles... Whew!

So, can a Saturday morning get much better than that? 😛

Post-a-day 2021

^Man! I hesitated.

Body Image

I intentionally look at myself in the mirror, nude – or almost entirely – every single day.  I look and I see all that there is to my body.  I fill myself with the experience of all that my body is, standing before that mirror.  And I love myself.  Through and through, from the tiniest hair to the German skin to the inherited bowels that are all too sensitive – I love my body for all that it is and for all that it is not.  This is my vessel, my space, my temple, my power, my source in this life.  And I am ever grateful for and in love with it.

That does not mean that I do not want to improve upon it.  One can love something and still want better for it.  Indeed, I believe part of loving something means always wanting better for it.  Such is the case with my body.  Every day, as I see the improvements from only a week ago or days ago, I am grateful that I have blessed it with such love… such love as it takes to get out of bed when I want to snuggle in deeper to the cozy covers, to get myself ready for bed early enough to have enough sleep, to choose these foods over those, to deny the casual pressure of those who do not have the same intentions with their food and drink and schedule, not to take the easy route, and just to accept the current and temporary convenience of eating this standard meal that I find before me, possibly even for free.

They mean no harm to me, I am sure, but such a meal is not free for me.  It has its costs.  Yes, it is utterly convenient, and significantly less socially odd and, sometimes, less embarrassing.  But, it is not blessing my body when I consume it.  Often, it causes my body actual pain, in some small way or other.  And, occasionally, it causes pain in some not-so-small ways… things I never noticed until I began to pay close attention.  I always thought eating meant one would feel ever so slightly ill afterward.  But that is only with certain foods, with the ones that do not serve my body, that I feel that way.  I have learned.

My food is my medicine – I take no other – and it is my daily blessing that gives me the energy for tomorrow.  It gives me my strength to exercise at 5:15 most mornings, as though it were a normal hour of the day.  It gives me the nutrition I need for my deep slumbers at night to restore and improve my strength and energy.

And it is not always easy.  Indeed, it often is difficult to manage getting myself the food I need, whenever I am doing things away from home, with others or alone.  Even at home, it takes effort.  And yet, after all this time, the effort seems like almost nothing.  Why?  Because it is so incredibly worth it.  I don’t even have to think about giving myself the right foods to serve me best, let alone thinking twice about it.  All because I love and want to take loving care of my body.

My body is merely the starting place.  If I am comfortable in my body, and it is ready and able for anything, then my spirit, too, with my body’s support, can take on whatever comes my way, and with a ready heart.  So, as I gaze at myself in the mirror each day, easily noticing the room for improvement, I also marvel at the beauty of all that I am, of all that I have become, and of all that I see I can become… all because I love myself for exactly who and how I am. I once was afraid to see myself naked – I couldn’t stand it.  Now, I look forward to that time of intimacy and being attuned to and connected in all ways with my physical self.  It is one of the most beloved times of my day, and it fills me always with love, joy, and gratitude for this life and for this current step within it.

Post-a-day 2021