Women should run? What the what?

I ran across this article on my facebook feed and my head nearly exploded. EXPLODED!!!! I just can't....I just can't. Why (most) women shouldn't run.

I mean honestly, c'mon, women shoudn't run. Like ever? What if wild beast was chasing me? May my massive hips just screw me? Running can be hard on your knees, don't get me wrong, but that goes for men and women. Loosing a few pounds helped me reduce my knee pain, and now I don't have any problems.  But according to the article by Michael Boyle we can't because: titties

There was a time when women straight up couldn't run, and by 'there was a time' I'm talking about recent. Like before 1970's recent. The olympic marathon did not allow women, because they thought it was too strenous for us, and we couldn't hang.

Here's a gem quote for you " Women with larger breasts and wider hips don’t make good runners"

Well, after they found out our uterus' wouldn't fall out if we ran a few miles, it was all good!  We have had women like Katherine Switzer sneak into the Boston Marathon because back in the good ol days we were seen unfit.


C'mon man

The blogger didn't write this article, but what gets me is that, as a female athlete, why would she even offer this as advice to other females who run. I mean, most women I know that run don't do it to look like elite runners, they do it because it can help cope with the insanity of life. As a women, let's not encourage this way of thinking that tries to limit women to 'more safe' activities.

Anywho, for all you non-elite runners out there (which is most of us), I hope you ignore this drivel, strap those double D's in to your moving comfort bra (which are the shit), and get running, because women could and SHOULD run.


around this time 5 years ago

It was around this time 5 years ago where I found myself at a very difficult impasse in my life. I was recently graduated from the MFT program at ULV, engaged, and supposedly packing to move to Mexico by Sept 22 (or around that time) to be with the guy I was supposed to marry. The last year of that relationship had be incredibly tumultuous. If you ask my mother she would tell you she heard too many nights me crying on the phone.  I had also been going through a 2 year long transformation back into the person my 18 year old self wanted to be: heading into a career of helping others, surrounded by family, and on my own. This was in stark contrast to who I was expecting to be: wife and future Mrs.

 

In May of that same year (5 years ago) I sat with my black robe and hood with ULV’s colors waiting for my name to be called. I would walk up, grab my diploma, and smile. However this moment of my life was fill with such bittersweet emotions. I kept thinking in my head that this moment, was the end. The end of my childhood. The end of my home. The end of my family. It was time for me to grow up and get married, because that’s what you do. I remember walking out of that stadium to “Somewhere over the Rainbow” and almost crying at this loss of innocence. I wasn’t ready to grow up and do the grown up things I had thrusted myself into doing.

Fast forward 4 months, everyday inching closer to my departure date. I had left a couple of years prior to Mexico and let me tell you that the pain I felt when I packed my bags was the equivalent of feeling my soul being ripped out of me. It didn’t even feel like I was growing, it felt like I was tearing at the stitches that held me together, tearing at the stitches of my family that had always loved me and surrounded me. There I was, with clothes I needed to pack, boxes I needed to label, and a wedding dress hanging in the closet. The invitations sent. The venue booked. “It’s just cold feet” I told myself. 

 

So what happened, you probably ask, since I’m sitting in So.Cal and not in Mexico. Scott. Scott happened. Completely unexpected, completely unplanned, and completely needed. He wasn’t what changed my mind to call everything off, he was the match that lit a very very volatile powder keg. I remember sitting across from him and thinking: his ambition is like my ambition, he is passionate about what he does (like how I’m passionate about what I do). Scott made me feel congruent with who I was all within the span of a couple of hours of having met him. And he hadn’t even kissed me yet or made any passes (so put those thoughts away). What he made me feel shook me to my core so much that reevaluated what I thought I had wanted. I didn’t want to leave my family. My family is my blood life. I didn’t want to leave California. It had taken me 24 years to learn to appreciate it’s beautiful sunsets, it’s Diet Spring (our winter and fall), and hell, even it’s traffic. It isn’t’ until you’re about lose all that you’ve known that you everything you’ve every loved comes into focus.  

 

I stayed for my family.

I stayed for my friends.

I stayed for my career.

And Ultimately, I stayed for Scott.

 

So here we are 5 years later, 3 months away from getting married (holy moly 3 months). We don’t have an anniversary, because that September 5 years ago was such a cluster of emotions that I couldn’t pick out a date if my life depended on it. I don’t have those fears of needing to grow up and buckle down, because I’m going to share my life with a man who keeps me in touch with still being a kid with his humor. I don’t fear losing my family because they are at least 10 min away driving. As for friends, well if I hadn’t stayed I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to have the amazing girlfriends I have in my life now.

 

Bring on being married, bring on being a Mrs. I don’t mind it one bit. We’ve spent the last 5 years building a home for 2 (4 if you count the fur babies), and I look forward to building the next 85 (more if we are cryogenically frozen) years together.  I no longer fear being tethered to someone, as long as that person I’m tethered to is Scott.

Book Review: Wild- From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed

 

 

I’ve been trying to read more female authors as I get more in touch with this whole Feminist thing. I’m not talking about Feminist books per se, just books by chicks (that isn’t Chick-lit). I stumbled across Wild through some lady websites and I thought it looked mighty interesting. I went ahead and bought in on Amazon (along with 2 other books because hey, you just can’t buy ONE book).

 

Well, over my vacation I was able to start and finish Cheryl Strayed’s book Wild, which is about a 26 year old woman’s lone journey on the Pacific Crest Trail, which starts in the Mojave Desert and ends in Canada. Cheryl starts in the Mojave and tracks through California all the way to Oregon. Throughout the book she describes her adventures as a very green backpacker and the people she encounters along the way. There were moments in the book where I wish I could have been on that trail relishing in the beautiful loneliness of the woods and arid desert.

 

I’m not gonna lie, I actually am looking at doing something like this, maybe not hardcore like Cheryl, but hiking some place and setting up camp. As I’ve been running more and more outside, I’ve come to appreciate the peace and tranquility nature brings. Wild does a great job at exploring that, and also appreciating the beauty of solitude. With so many of us being constantly connected via Facebook, twitter, tumblr, instagram, etc the idea of completely void of ALL of that chatter sounds incredibly refreshing. Loneliness has become synonymous with so many negative connotations that we forget that to be still with ourselves can really allow us to explore those thoughts we often push aside, deal with our own nagging voices, and maybe find some deep realization about ourselves.

 

If you want to feel like you’re on the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail) or you want to read about someone’s journey of self-discovery read Wild. I cant express how much I enjoyed it.

http://www.cherylstrayed.com/wild_108676.htm