I love The Golden Girls. I own the entire series and a documentary about the series. I aspire to be Estelle Getty's character, Sophia, when I'm older. In fact, I already practice with a wicker purse. In reality wicker purses are really not conducive to everyday life, and people look at you as if you are carrying a small picnic basket. It may look like one, but it's far less practical.
I never had the desire to be a cheerleader. At least not in the sense of skirts, flips, tosses, pom-pons, the whole nine. It never hit my radar. I had friends who were cheerleaders and even later on friends who were on competitive dance teams. Once those friends became lifelong friends I snickered less at the organization. In fact, once I really stopped and observed it all, I realized cheerleading isn't an organization, but rather a life. It's determination. It's spirit. It is truly talent, as well as selflessness. Now perhaps the last part, the selflessness, isn't what you see on competitions on ESPN, and it isn't exactly the flips and splits I'm talking about.
A journey to a new life, a life with energy, purpose, courage isn't just steps. It's miles. It's challenges. It's bumps in the roads, hiccups along the way, losses, gains, and a few unexpected things and people along the way.
I began this unexpected journey without a plan, and to be honest I still really don't have a plan. I have goals and things I want to accomplish, but not exactly a plan on getting said goals accomplished. I'd say I take it all by the seat of my pants, except for the fact that today I wore a skirt and said skirt was taken by the wind as I was leaving the gym at 830am, so while I may take things by the seat of my pants, I really need to remember to hold my skirt down in high winds.
I digress.
As well with not having a plan is, I never know who will say what. Who will listen. Who will encourage. Who will ask questions. Who I might encourage. And I am never prepared for the mass of emotions that come with these people; their words. These cheerleaders. These selfless people.
My family had no idea this journey they'd be drug along on. The endless stories. The ones they may find pointless. While I'm sure they *really* care about my dabble into a professional scooter hockey career, I'm more sure they think "Well, ok then." These are the same people that come and physically cheer me on. My 84 year old grandmother heard me talk about my first Sprint Triathlon in June and is planning a visit so she can watch me. Now, the logistics of the entire event and getting my 84 year old grandmother situated have to be worked out, but in spending time with her she asked questions, she wants to see me. My parents have taken days off of work just so they can come cheer me on. And my dad, he hates crowds … with a passion. My poor mom, on race day she's in charge.
It goes without saying that Will is one of my largest supporters. If I could, I'd blame him for this journey, but instead I never say thanks enough for his encouragement. Will is a professional chef, he works crazy hours, as in he sometimes eats dinner at 2am the same as anyone else may eat at 6pm. Will just gets settled into a sleep pattern and my alarm goes off to go to cycle, swim, or train. He never complains.
My friends, oh my high school and college friends, you have seen me in very bizarre situations.You hear stories of my misadventures, and I'm pretty sure you don't care that all in all since I started I've taken 2 minutes off of my mile, but you listen. You send a smiley emoji. It means so much, it's small, but it means so much.
Coworkers, old and new, near and far alike. For most, I've not spent time outside of work with. We've had merely odd bonds at work albeit our similar personalities, or an event at work bonding us. Those who I have had the honor of spending time with, you too have heard my stories, in fact you may have noticed a shift in my diet, my eating and drinking habits. You always encourage, even if it means walking 5 miles because I'm too impatient to wait for a bus. Or maybe it's you not knowing how to say that I look good, as in, my pants are not fitting well, but it's a good thing. Oddly I know how to take the compliment even less than you know how to give it.
My gym friends. In most cases I don't know what you do for work. I don't know what town you live in. I don't know your family life or what you do for work. In most cases I don't know your journey or reasoning why we've met at the gym. What I do know is that you are encouraging. When I think I can't, it turns out you not only think, but know I can. When I want to give up, you tell me I can do it. When I start to slow down, you tell me to keep going.
For the list of people who have known me since birth, to those I've just met. Each of you play a part in my journey and continue to do so. Whether it be a smile, a hello. To something more grand in telling me I'm inspiring. Or maybe as everyone who I know, who knows better than me … that I can do it. And not only can I do it, but I am doing it. You are selfless, you are encouraging, you are my cheerleaders. And much like The Golden Girls, Thank You For Being A Friend.
I never had the desire to be a cheerleader. At least not in the sense of skirts, flips, tosses, pom-pons, the whole nine. It never hit my radar. I had friends who were cheerleaders and even later on friends who were on competitive dance teams. Once those friends became lifelong friends I snickered less at the organization. In fact, once I really stopped and observed it all, I realized cheerleading isn't an organization, but rather a life. It's determination. It's spirit. It is truly talent, as well as selflessness. Now perhaps the last part, the selflessness, isn't what you see on competitions on ESPN, and it isn't exactly the flips and splits I'm talking about.
A journey to a new life, a life with energy, purpose, courage isn't just steps. It's miles. It's challenges. It's bumps in the roads, hiccups along the way, losses, gains, and a few unexpected things and people along the way.
I began this unexpected journey without a plan, and to be honest I still really don't have a plan. I have goals and things I want to accomplish, but not exactly a plan on getting said goals accomplished. I'd say I take it all by the seat of my pants, except for the fact that today I wore a skirt and said skirt was taken by the wind as I was leaving the gym at 830am, so while I may take things by the seat of my pants, I really need to remember to hold my skirt down in high winds.
I digress.
As well with not having a plan is, I never know who will say what. Who will listen. Who will encourage. Who will ask questions. Who I might encourage. And I am never prepared for the mass of emotions that come with these people; their words. These cheerleaders. These selfless people.
My family had no idea this journey they'd be drug along on. The endless stories. The ones they may find pointless. While I'm sure they *really* care about my dabble into a professional scooter hockey career, I'm more sure they think "Well, ok then." These are the same people that come and physically cheer me on. My 84 year old grandmother heard me talk about my first Sprint Triathlon in June and is planning a visit so she can watch me. Now, the logistics of the entire event and getting my 84 year old grandmother situated have to be worked out, but in spending time with her she asked questions, she wants to see me. My parents have taken days off of work just so they can come cheer me on. And my dad, he hates crowds … with a passion. My poor mom, on race day she's in charge.
It goes without saying that Will is one of my largest supporters. If I could, I'd blame him for this journey, but instead I never say thanks enough for his encouragement. Will is a professional chef, he works crazy hours, as in he sometimes eats dinner at 2am the same as anyone else may eat at 6pm. Will just gets settled into a sleep pattern and my alarm goes off to go to cycle, swim, or train. He never complains.
My friends, oh my high school and college friends, you have seen me in very bizarre situations.You hear stories of my misadventures, and I'm pretty sure you don't care that all in all since I started I've taken 2 minutes off of my mile, but you listen. You send a smiley emoji. It means so much, it's small, but it means so much.
Coworkers, old and new, near and far alike. For most, I've not spent time outside of work with. We've had merely odd bonds at work albeit our similar personalities, or an event at work bonding us. Those who I have had the honor of spending time with, you too have heard my stories, in fact you may have noticed a shift in my diet, my eating and drinking habits. You always encourage, even if it means walking 5 miles because I'm too impatient to wait for a bus. Or maybe it's you not knowing how to say that I look good, as in, my pants are not fitting well, but it's a good thing. Oddly I know how to take the compliment even less than you know how to give it.
My gym friends. In most cases I don't know what you do for work. I don't know what town you live in. I don't know your family life or what you do for work. In most cases I don't know your journey or reasoning why we've met at the gym. What I do know is that you are encouraging. When I think I can't, it turns out you not only think, but know I can. When I want to give up, you tell me I can do it. When I start to slow down, you tell me to keep going.
For the list of people who have known me since birth, to those I've just met. Each of you play a part in my journey and continue to do so. Whether it be a smile, a hello. To something more grand in telling me I'm inspiring. Or maybe as everyone who I know, who knows better than me … that I can do it. And not only can I do it, but I am doing it. You are selfless, you are encouraging, you are my cheerleaders. And much like The Golden Girls, Thank You For Being A Friend.
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