Nurse! Help! I think I sprained my everything- drabble as read and discussed on my youtube

"Nurse! Help! I think I sprained my everything!"

"Nurse! Help! I think I sprained my everything!"

               One of the things I've decided to devote myself to, in my course to get back to finding myself again, is getting back into my running training. And I'm not gonna lie to you. After taking the last few years off, learning how to be a wife and a stepmom and getting into the swing of things and how busy my life is now? Getting back into running after so many years without it is pure hell. When I pulled that treadmill out early this week and hopped up on it, turned a show on (seriously, if there's any show out there that will make you feel guilty sitting on your ass eating popcorn while watching it, it's "the Walking Dead".), and I turned that treadmill on and power-walked ten miles? I thought my legs were going to fall the hell off.

               Coming down after such a long run, having a pick me up wind-down snack after burning so many calories, my eyelids drooping, I heard voices in my head as I lay there. Voices telling me I was too old for this crap, that I was too far out of practice and shape for this crap, that I'm a wife now, a mom now, that I don't have to worry about this kind of crap. And with my legs aching and every bit of me feeling like it weighed a million pounds-- feeling weak-- my hair soaking wet, my body drenched in sweat, the smallest part of my brain might have believed it. But then I reminded myself that I'd just gone ten miles, even after so many years off. And that yeah, I was tired (let's be honest, I was beyond tired), and I knew I'd be sore the next day (Oh God, so unbelievably sore haha), but I'd done it. No one else had coached me, no one else nagged me. I did it, on my own, because I wanted to do it.

               And I slept better that night than I had in years. Which, as a chronic insomniac, meant a hell of a lot to me. I woke up in the morning feeling incredible. Sore as hell, in need of ice packs and wanting to put my feet up, but I felt accomplished. And yeah, it was only ten miles, but it was something. And even a little something is far better than nothing.

               That night, I queued up the blu ray again, and I was back up on the treadmill again, telling myself I'd walk another ten miles. Not running, not out to give myself a heart attack or asthma attack, just walking, decent conversational-type pace, and see how I felt (At my size, there's no way in hell I'm gonna hop up there and start running. I'm driven, goal-oriented, not crazy.)

               I got so caught up in what I was watching that after awhile, I stopped watching the digital readout on my treadmill, and when I found myself looking down, I was surprised when I realized how far I'd walked without realizing it. The ten miles I'd done the previous night felt like nothing now as I stood there, staring down at those numbers, still walking, and yeah, I was sweating from the pace I'd kept, yeah I power-walked the whole way, but I knew I wasn't done yet.

               I went another mile that night before I stopped. And it felt good. It felt like progress.

               I've been at it for over a week now, just power-walking, not trying to outdo Olympians or professional athletes, just going by how I feel and making sure I don't push too hard. I'm in it for the long haul. If I overdo it, looking for the quick fix, and I hurt myself, I won't be doing myself any favors.

               I've lost weight already this week, and my pants are getting looser. And I'm sleeping better than I've slept in years. And yes, it means less time at the keyboard, working on my writing, and it means getting even more creative with my scheduling between looking after my family, my household, my pets, sleeping, writing, running, blogging and youtubing, but as I find myself now beginning to find balance between all the aspects of my life, and as I find myself recovering more of who I am now, I find myself finding peace more and more easily in each and every aspect of my life, which in turn lends peace and balance in all the other aspects of my life in ways that I haven't found in a very long time.

               It feels good. It feels like control, empowerment, accomplishment. It feels like cresting that damnable mountain and picking up speed as I find myself coming down the other side.

               And damn, does it feel good. 

To hell with your age- a drabble by avsongbird, read audiobook style on my youtube channel

To hell with your age

               I've never really understood society's obsession with age. I just started my online blog back in May, and wanting to make sure I get my writing out there to as many potential readers as possible, I linked it with various social medias, including posting my vlogs on my Youtube channel.

               Part of the idea behind all of this was to help me come out of my shell a bit-- to help me get over being so shy and nervous and afraid of the thought of sharing my work with others and putting myself out there for people to see and point at and possibly mock and ridicule-- to show me that maybe the world isn't as scary a place as I've built it up to be in my head.

               Needless to say, I share links on my Facebook and across all of my social media, learning how to network on my own and trying to learn as much as I can as I go along, and I've been getting various response whenever the people in my life find out about what I'm doing.

               My mom, of course, is thrilled, but then again she's always been supportive of my writing and to be fair? I was on the phone with her the day I posted my first video blog on Youtube, and to be honest? She was the one on the other end of the line going "do it do it do it doooooo iiiiiit!"

               My husband is thrilled-- he's been pushing for years, telling me I should finish one of the various books I'm working on and send it in to various publishers to evaluate, and telling me that I'm too much of a perfectionist and that I shouldn't be quite so scared to share my writing with others (You know how it feels, don't you fellow writers? People find out you're a writer, and they ask to see your work and suddenly you hate every word you ever put to paper? I can't be the only one out there.)

               I'm like my mother in a number of ways (Yes I admit it, and with pride dammit, my mother's one hell of a strong and loving, compassionate and selfless woman, and I'm proud to be her daughter), one of which is the fact that neither one of us really pays attention to our age anymore. We both figure we're old enough to drink, drive (SEPARATELY), and vote, so why obsess over a number anymore?

               There's been people who hear I'm doing all of this and look at me like I've got a third eye. Which is fine. My life is supposed to be my life, not theirs. At the end of the day, how you live your life is your business, and how they live their life is theirs, and I've always believed everyone should live their life in whatever way makes them happy, as long as they're not encroaching on the happiness of others, or hurting others in order to make them happy.

               I don't understand why we're expected to dress and act and speak according to our ages all our lives. But then, I've never understood why people felt we should give up who we are in order to fit the cookie-cutter ideal laid out by whatever hats we happen to wear.

               I don't understand why people should feel like they have to change who they are just because they're getting older, or because they get married or have kids or even grandkids. How can you live a happy and emotionally fulfilling life if you're not even free to be who you really are? How can you be truly happy in your life if you have to spend all day every day pretending to be something and someone you're not?

               I'm in my early thirties now. And guess what? I still read comic books, just as I did ten years ago, and longer ago than that. I used to play dungeons and dragons when I was younger, and if my younger brother showed up at the front door with it today, damned if I wouldn't play it still.

               I rock out at guitar hero with my stepsons, and whenever the newest Marvel movie comes out, I geek out just as hard as they do, if not harder, and so does my husband.

               Oh yeah, family of Marvel nerds here, and DC, and every single person in our house is a gamer of one kind or another.

               I curl up on the couch with my stepsons and watch video-gamer commentaries on Youtube and crack up just as hard as the kids do, no differently than when we curl up for our movie marathon nights.

               My middle stepson calls me up out of the blue from his mother's house to talk to me about Minecraft (his latest obsession). He tells me about what he's building and sends me pictures, and we brainstorm about what he should build next. You wouldn't believe the incredible things he builds. I told him I was considering giving it a try, just to see what it was about, and he and his younger brother were both on board with the idea.

               My younger two stepsons and I get into lengthy discussions about how much of a badass Thorin was in Lord of the Rings (they've both read all the books), and get into playful arguments over who's the best Marvel superhero (The youngest would say Captain America, the middle one would say Wolverine, and I have my own opinions).

               The point I'm trying to make is that it shouldn't be up to your age or up to other people to tell you that you can't love the things you love, that you can't do the things you do that make you truly happy, that help you connect with the people you care about and make your life feel complete. Just because you're getting older or you get married or have kids, you shouldn't have to change who you are. I am who I was when I was younger, and I regret having to admit that I spent far too much time in my recent past stressing over what I was supposed to be and how I was supposed to act and what I was supposed say and wear and do now that I'm a wife, a stepmom, and a woman heading into my thirties.

               I became so caught up in everyone's expectations and bending and twisting and contorting and pretending so much to be something I wasn't for so long that one day I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and I didn't even recognize myself anymore.

               You can't do that, and be happy. And I wanted to be happy. Not "smile for the camera" happy. Honest to goodness "screw what everyone else thinks, I'm gonna be me and they'll either accept it or not" happy.

               Because you know what? You deserve to be happy in your life, and not just "smile for the camera" happy. Not "oh shit they're looking I have to fake it" happy. Honest to goodness "smiling when you go to bed at night, excited to wake up in the morning" happy.

               Screw their expectations, their guidelines for what is and isn't acceptable per your age and your status in life. Your life is yours to get out there and own, and if you don't get out there and own it, and live out every single glorious day of it to its fullest, at the end of the ride, you'll regret all the chances you didn't take, all the words you never had the guts to say, and all of the times you sacrificed who you were just because you let them tell you what you could or couldn't do, and who you could or couldn't be.

               I'm Jennifer. I'm a writer, a blogger, and a reluctant nervous-as-hell sometimes Youtuber. I'm a comic book reader, a gamer, a bookworm, and a life-long middle ages and horror and zombie movie addict. I'm a devoted wife and a proud stepmom and a proud member of the Lord of the Rings fandom among others, and I'm working my way steadily into the Doctor Who fandom as we speak. I love a good story anywhere I can find it, whether it's in movie, book, play, or video game form (To be honest, some of the best horror stories I've heard lately have been through video games), and I love meeting fellow readers and writers who love a good story just as much as I do.              

               And there are days I honestly forget how old I am because, at the end of the day, I refuse to let my age tell me who I am.

               And neither should you.