It started when my younger sister Kathy came out of the womb a workaholic! She probably cut her own cord and cleaned up the delivery room after herself! She was six when she raked up all the lawn grass in a pile like a haystack. Standing out on the clumpy lawn, Staring down the flip open view finder, Mom took aim with her top of the line, brownie camera. With the Sylvania bulb spit on, tightly placed the funnel looking flash attachment, Kathy posed for the picture complete with a pitchfork! The blackened, bubbled, bulb popped out of the camera onto the ground. I watched shamefully from the house. I wish I had a nickel for every time that picture was brought out for every visitor that came to our farm. I never heard the end of how ambitious she was! I didn't think I'd ever want to see this picture again but the blog wouldn't be complete with out it!
There is no way a lazy person by nature, can compete with a workaholic. I just gave up and tried to make it work for me. Kathy would want to saddle the horses about three times a day and ride. Are you kidding me? Corner and catch the horses, drag the saddles off the cream cans on the wall, hoist them up on the horses, cinch them up tight, switch out the headgear, ride, walk them out, curry them off, hoist the gear back up on the cream cans…three times a day? ( Ok I might be exaggerating a little there, but not much). In an attempt to get her off my back using my laziness and her ambition, I’d say, “sure I’ll ride, but you have to saddle my horse and yours, and drag me to the barn on the sled”. Sure enough, she saddled the horses, and attempted to drag me to the barn on our red sleds with runners. I was already chubby, (no idea why) and I think she made it half way. I forgot to say this was in the summertime!
My new campaign to sparkle this year is going really well for the most part! I have lost seven pounds, my classes are interesting, still liking the church, and am up to 22 minutes on the treadmill - except for day before yesterday. I had the devil on my shoulder from the time I woke up about walking on the treadmill. I found every reason I could to put off climbing on that thing, till night time.
When I couldn’t find anyone to drag me to it, I finally got on. I was obsessed with watching the time. Eight minutes, oh gosh twelve left! Eight minutes and thirty two seconds… still twelve. When I hit ten I tried to pep talk myself by thinking, “hey, you’re half way and this is as much as you could do the very first day! You’re doing good Pam, just keep going! At eighteen minutes the devil got the best of me and I got off. I beat myself up the rest of the night. I’m surprised I didn’t eat something to dig myself in deeper, but I didn’t. Yeah, I’m happy about that too.
I have always said music is my saving grace. I could not have lived with no music. When I had panic disorder really bad back in the early 80’s, I used music to divert myself from thinking negative thoughts. So yesterday, and today, I got on the treadmill and decided I’m closing my eyes to the time until I’ve listened to at least five songs. I say five because six could be over and Lord knows I cant go over ha-ha. I probably look like a white version of Stevie Wonder, but that’s how I’ve kept my lazy butt on the treadmill the last two days.
On a positive note I already have more energy for my creative things I feel like doing - just not for walking on the treadmill. That’s not creative. The exercise part is going to be hardest. I admit it, I wish Kathy would come down here and do it for me but she resigned half way to the barn, so guess I will have to stick to the five songs and ramp it up to six or seven come Monday.
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