That La Kid

wishin' an' hopin'!

sky full of lighters

I had this big huge epiphany last night.  I burst into the house after my walk all amped up.  So, let me see if I can put it in some format that you can read. 

I listen to a lot of music while I run jog walk wog, some secular, some worship.  

Last night, I was listening to “Made to Love,” by TobyMac.  

I’m running, and praising God for the strength to run and thanking him for helping Tom put the Ikea couch back together earlier in the afternoon, because that crap was cray… then another song comes on. 

It gets off to a slow start.  It’s not exactly worship music, not great for running, but I freakin’ LOVE it.  I love Eminem.  I love everything he does.  (Okay, that one album wasn’t fantastic.)  He’s so awesome.  Everything he does… oh my God… 

Then, it hit me like a freight train.  Seriously.  I felt it rush over my body furiously. 

God loves me like I love Eminem. 

I’m not famous.  I’m not cool.  I’m not influential.  I don’t do a whole heck of a lot.  But to God, I’m the shiz.  I’m one bad mofo.  I’m awesome!  Everything I do…  I’m his favorite.  (And so are you.)  

And then I felt a nice breeze, looked up, and saw the sky full of stars above me, my sky full of lighters. 


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sipping on kale

I’m not saying anything, I’m just saying that I’m not busting out of my fat pants today.  No significant loss, but I feel good.  No weight or inches lost, but my fat pants are loose again. 

And that’s with just 2 days of “wogging” with a walk in between them.  I think I could do this.  I think I could quietly sip on kale smoothies and work or play with Bruce or watch tv.  I wonder what would happen to my body if I ate a solid foundation of fruits and veggies for the next 7 years.  (I only say that because most of your cells regenerate every 7 years or something, so what if all my regenerating cells were made of spinach and strawberries instead of fries?)

I don’t know if people were meant to run.  I know we can… I am just trying to think of a scenario besides running from a sabor tooth tiger in which my ancestors would have been running 26.2 miles.  Even the tiger wouldn’t have chased them that long.  Who came up with the idea for a marathon?  What a compelling testament to endurance – holy smokes!  Is it a Greek think?  I feel like somebody was running somewhere to tell someone something about a war.  Or something. 


It is said that he ran the entire distance without stopping and burst into the assembly, exclaiming “νενικηκαμεν’ (nenikekamen)”, (“We wοn”), before collapsing and dying.


So why do we do it?

Future Wendy, if you’re reading this: you feel good.  Remember this moment.  Try it again.  I know you succumbed to the cheese fries at Outback and feel gross.  That’s no reason to give up.  Have a (can’t believe I’m buying into it) NutriBlast and keep moving forward.  

We believe in you. 

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this is happening

I wonder if I could make this my life.



I don’t know if i can do it or not. I just know that I don’t want to be big anymore. Don’t like being jolly or sassy and I want an average sized rowboat to be able to hold me without capsizing.

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since I’m sitting here doing nothing

My arm is asleep.


But since I’m sitting here doing nothing and I’ve pretty much missed the entire episode of Judge Judy today, I thought that I might as well kill some time and try to wake up my left hand by typing with it on the phone.

Tom recently said, “I wish you loved yourself as much as I love you.” And honestly, I can’t stand myself. I’d never judge anyone else based on their BMI, but I find my own obesity disgusting. It’s weird. I love a lot of fat people, just not the one that greets me at the mirror every morning.

I sound a lot like a racist who’s like, “I have a black friend!”

Anyway. I’m trying to get to a place where I can love myself again. I haven’t told anyone, but I’ve decided that the easiest way to get to that place is to run there. Last night, I went out and bought $140 shoes. I went to a running shop and had my feet measured and arch examined. It really was a pleasant experience. I have a flat foot, for which there was only one option in my choice of light blue or slightly lighter blue. My second toe actually pushed me up half a size, which is a bummer. $140!!!! The last pair of tennis shoes that I bought were $44.99, I think. The ones before that were $13.99 from Walmart.

I took the new shoes for a “wog” last night with Tom. My calves and arches hurt like a mug, but there’s no blisters! So, for me, that’s a breakthrough. I’ll take it. I take sore muscles over exploding flesh any day.

So, here ya’ go. My special shoes. (No wonder Bruce doesn’t have adorable little Asian feet.  I mean, he does, but they are huge on him and getting bigger everyday.)  They’re huge. They’re ugly. They’re expensive. And they’re special.


I started running in March but quit after the first week. I hope the sticker shock of the new shoes will help keep me motivated. That, and today I registered for the Enchanted 10k at the Disney Princess Half-Marathon Event.

I am not sure how I feel about the Princess being my first race. I think the WDW Marathon might have more meaning or the Dine ‘n Dash one in the fall. Princesses aren’t really my thing.

But I kind of think it’s my destiny.

I don’t think it’s impossible that God wants me to be healthier and happier and stop treating my body like a sugar mill. I’m not ruling out the idea of divine intervention via peer pressure from Danielle. That’s possible? Right?

I’ll be the first to admit that the idea of my fat ass running is laughable. But hopefully my ass won’t be that fat for too long. I wonder what it would be like to wear a medium or at least a large. I wonder how it would feel to not just have to stand there while Mom, Trudy, Haley and Sunny shop for normal people clothes. I wonder how it will feel to see my risk of cancer and heart disease plummet. I wonder if I’ll be able to buy a swimsuit without a skirt on it at some point in my life. I wonder what my great-grandkids will ask me when I’m still alive at 91.

Anyway. The adventure begins!