WTFC

I had a lovely little post ready to run this morning.


It was all about ME and my NARCISSISM...

oh, wait, sorry, it was actually about how running impacts my day to day life, how it makes me a better mother, and how it has touched me in so many ways that I can't begin to name them.

It was encouraging toward those who are suffering or need a little support to get moving.
It was also about Coach Black, who sends silly little notes via email that make me giggle.  or who sends me serious messages that make me think.
And it was about Q who taught me how to say, WTFC, sometimes I actually mean it.
Then again, maybe it was about SpeeDee who made me hang onto a $20 bill so I'd always have a reason to drop by her office at any time.
It could've been about Jsquared who accepted me into their harem... or did I accept them into my posse?
It was also about Mrs J1 who has taught me moore about how to get through life unscarred than she could know.
And let's not forget Maverick, who is pretty to look at, but the real value there is that he always seems to know when I need to hear that I'm OK.
Mostly it was about Earth Mama Mere who showed me what HEART looks like in it's purest form, and Meredith who's shown me what love looks like incarnate and Pixie who showed me that sisters aren't always born to the same family and my running wife, T... who's there for the laughter AND the tears AND the 84 emotions spanning the space between.

In that post I didn't name any of these people though.  I simply talked about how running has shown me more about myself than a 10K PR and which flavor of gatorade makes me vomit.  I talked about how it's my therapy, and how it helps heal me when I have a hole in my soul.  How it keeps me level when I'm feeling out of control, and how it affords me a safe healthy way to vent so I don't vent my frustration at my beautiful children.

But I didn't publish it because of a comment.

A comment that was well aimed.

well, STFU.  Yeah, I f*cking said it.  I dare you to post a comment on this blog using your real identity instead of hiding behind "anonymous".  I DARE you, coward.  But you won't.  You won't because you're a coward.

So yeah.  I blog, and gosh darn it, people ~f*cking~ like me.