Shakespeare on a Sunday

Most stories have a beginning, a middle, and an end. I see no relevance in discussing my beginnings. Right now I seem to be stuck in the middle so let’s start this story here. I am up to my full figured waist in IT right now. I need to get my head out of my arse. Why is it so difficult to stop doing something that brings nothing good to your life?  I know what I need to do but I can’t seem to convince myself to do it.

Sometimes the only way to get to the other shore is to jump into the water and swim towards the opposing shore. No complaints, no carefully made plans just thrusting full throttle for something other than what is currently not working for you. To quote Shakespeare, from Hamlet ,”This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.” … and yet somehow every day I make compromises and I am not true to myself.

As many of you know I married a man whose passion is anything hockey. Every fall I find myself at odds about the start of the season, the loss of free time, the crappy weather, the angst that comes with game day prep (and he isn’t even on the team!) and the sense of loss I feel over not feeling the adrenal rush that every other hockey groupie gets. I have made many friends because of this sport. I cherish them all.  BUT…I miss my freedom. What can not be changed must be embraced. I am writing this missive not because I am looking for sympathy but for clarity in myself. It is time to stop complaining about something that at least for the moment is unlikely to change. I am uncertain how to move forward but I need to.

I have often wondered why every time I go on a eating better for better health kick I can’t make it a lifestyle. Why does doing well become my new obsession? Why do I lack the ability to stop all the thoughts that crowd my mind about being hungry? about wanting? about feeling deprived? about feeling sorry for myself because I wasn’t born with a magical metabolism that keeps me thin? I have no energy for these bullshit thoughts anymore. I just want to feel healthy. I want to climb a flight of stairs and not feel like I am going to die from lack of oxygen. I want to bend over and tie my shoes. I want to stop feeling tight in my own skin. I want to stop obsessing. I want to feel vibrant. I want to wear and buy clothes without Spandex being my only option. With all of the ever changing methods of WWs(not that I am blaming them) and my own personal demons I am left feeling like I am trying to climb Mount Everest over a piece of toast. That is just wrong. EAT THE TOAST. I know what to do. It’s time to do it.

I am going to mix things up with my blog, spend less time commiserating about my struggles. Write about the joy of life. I know it’s out there.

JOY
Joy

Love Handles

I was thinking in the shower this morning, while I was shaving my legs of all things, that lately I feel like my love handles have turned into carry-on luggage.

It is no big secret that I jumped off my wagon and pushed that bitch right off a cliff but the time has come for me to get back to the journey at hand. This morning I woke up with a feeling that there is a fast approaching corner that I am speeding into. I need a new wagon. I need to start managing my health in a different way.

Hockey starts next month and then in short order, my anger becomes a problem, for me. I turn this misplaced disappointment in on myself. I sulk, I feel sorry for myself, and then I eat things no serious diabetic should. I feel trapped by something that is not my passion. The days get shorter as well as my temper. I say hurtful things, sometimes to the people I love the most. Hockey and all things pursuant of hockey is my hubster’s passion, not mine.  His full on zest for hockey has killed all of the like I once held for this sport. Every year I promise myself not to sit at the booster club table and eat the candy…every year that promise lasts maybe ten minutes. I will not do this to myself this year.

If you really read my blog and not just “like” it to be nice, you know that I often say never under estimate what you mean to someone. I am always surprised when someone from WWs reaches out to me and asks how I have been or why I have stopped going or the level of kindness that is shown to me. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I really like the back and forth when I am at a meeting. I have met many amazing people. I make them laugh, they make me think. I just wish the corporate side of WWs would stop reinventing their program EVERY YEAR! We all know that if you eat twice as much as you need, you will weigh twice as much as you should! I am always the one I hurt the most when I give up on myself. It is time I start to believe in what I am capable of again. I miss feeling wonderful, healthy, and alive!

I have been wanting to return for some time now but have lacked the faith in myself to overcome my fear of failure. Failure is a great teacher, even if she is a bitch to live with. Failure has taught me that I have the strength to try again. I am more than I think I am.

Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To Be!

 

 

 

muffintop
A movie? Seriously? 
muffin-top-baking-cups-2
muffin top anyone?

 

The Trip

Today is a pretty big day for my hockey family. A new hockey team debuted in Worcester, MA this past October. With hard work and determination and some luck thrown in there for good measure this new team has made it to their first showing in the ECHL’s run for the Kelly Cup. For the hockey unknowing in the BIGS, the Bruins are trying to win the Stanley Cup . It is a big thing, trust me.

My hockey family is gathering onto a bus this afternoon to make a 180 mile trip to Glens Falls, NY to cheer on our team.  I like hockey. My hubby and our friends at hockey LIVE HOCKEY. I enjoy going on the trips. The people who run the Booster Club for our team do an amazing job of planning, organizing, and keeping a bus full of people engaged and entertained. THREE hours on a bus is a lifetime! “are we there yet?, are we there yet?”

The town of Glens Falls is near the Hudson River and just shy (15 miles south) of Lake George’s beautiful, picturesque settings. Well worth the drive in Spring or Summer for an adventure. Today my adventure will be in the midst of a bus load of people filled with hockey fever. I better bring a book. Go Railers!

Sunday Morning

Do you know what soul shine is? I like to think of it as something that makes a person so happy that from a distance it appears that they have a glow about them. It may be noticed in the way their step seems lighter or the smile they can’t unwear or the warm glow of happy that seems to emanate from their being. In everyday life we don’t get to witness it much. If you were lucky enough to have a ticket to last night’s season opener of the Worcester Railers Hockey you couldn’t escape the buzz of it.

I haven’t seen some of these good people for over a year. It was nice to catch up, to be in their presence. I had forgotten how much they are a treasure to me. Hockey brings more to Worcester than a sports team, it reunites the community in a way other things can’t. I was surrounded by excitement. School groups, old friends, new friends, co-workers and complete strangers all gathering to bring life back to this city we call home.

I feel like something that was lost has been restored. I am happy for my friends. I am happy for my husband. We haven’t had a lot to be smiley about lately. It was nice to see him settle back into his beloved element. hockey

He enjoyed every moment :  the sound of pucks as they slammed into the boards, the roar of the Zamboni as it prepped the ice, the chatter of excited hockey fans eager for the game to begin.

What The Puck?

I had decided to chronicle my opinions, moods, anger, joy over the return to the sport of hockey to Worcester, MA. I didn’t do it because I didn’t want to hurt my hubby’s feelings. I often lament to my dear hubster when I am feeling vulnerable that I feel unnoticed, unwanted, under appreciated, invisible and unloved…but it never rings truer for me than when hockey season is in full swing. I will attempt to let you, the outsider, in on all the secrets of a hockey widow… and then I just didn’t do it. See above.

What good can come from being frustrated? I do not enjoy the stuff that surrounds the pregame BS of hockey. Unlike most casual fans of the game, my hubby ( a die hard fan )wishes to be at the arena almost a full two hours before the puck drop. EVERY SINGLE GAME !

 

Have I ever told you hubby doesn’t drive? I get angry because I feel like I am chained to this sport. I can’t go anywhere game days. I don’t get much done. I feel like I have no say in what I want or what I have TO DO those days.

As the first season draws to a close I can tell you here and now that my attitude has not changed about feeling trapped by this sport. I hold a deep resentment for my husband’s mistress (HOCKEY) but I love him. I think our life together has been able to sustain itself partly because we are both wise enough to know that compromises are a necessary evil for a healthy union along with respect, love, friendship, and flexibility. I need to find something to keep myself engaged while I am in the arena for the two plus hours I will be there. Start a memoir? read? sing? watch a movie? write posts for my blog?

podcast anyone? with witty repartee?

*** Today is March 29,2018***I started this post in October 2017 when I was feeling on the fence about the commitment hockey is in our lives. I love all of the people I have become friends with through hockey. My life is enriched by you in ways I can not articulate. ; )