I ran two miles! Well I slow ran but dammit I did it. I was grooving to my music and I was doing it. I've been on antibiotics for an abscess in my knee (nasty, I know) and running is not the easiest thing to do. But I took a month break and decided I needed to get off my fat ass and run.
So I did it! Day four of my comeback tour.
Now I just need to write 2000 words on my novel. I can do this. I won NANOWRIMO last month. I got this. (Yeah, Molly, just tell yourself that, haha).
Monday, December 8, 2014
Take Two...
I started this blog in Chicago last June. And now here we are, almost six months later, new city and new me. So what's changed? Well, for one, I dropped the extremely hard regime of running everyday (I run a lot more than I did though). I was convinced that I needed to do something amazing to start a blog. Haha. Really, I was over-thinking it. What is a blog people? A place where you can tell your story. Even if that story means you like to stack plastic forks and eat only chicken for dinner every night (which I don't but its an example people, come on). And my story, well its had its moments.
I grew up in the Nevada desert with a hippy momma (God rest her beautiful soul) and a crazy survivalist daddy. I saw my fair share of hookers, gamblers, transients, Quakers, missionaries, pagans, bible-thumpers, foreign speaking men trying to buy the plane in our front yard, potty belly pig lovers, doomsday fighters, truckers with poodles, stargazers, failed actors, successful actors, cantankerous old gun-toting women, goat herd tenders, dreamers, and criminal bikers. I loved them. I hated them. I am of them.
I'd like to say that this is the next chapter but really we're more likely in chapter four of the Molly saga. I'm in a new place now. A place where I feel more creative and dare I say it, happy. Its been a while. Happy is elusive. I have family with me, my sister and my nephew, good company for the journey. I want more from life. I know I can have more. I don't need permission. I just need to go. I just need to run. That's what I'm finally doing.
I grew up in the Nevada desert with a hippy momma (God rest her beautiful soul) and a crazy survivalist daddy. I saw my fair share of hookers, gamblers, transients, Quakers, missionaries, pagans, bible-thumpers, foreign speaking men trying to buy the plane in our front yard, potty belly pig lovers, doomsday fighters, truckers with poodles, stargazers, failed actors, successful actors, cantankerous old gun-toting women, goat herd tenders, dreamers, and criminal bikers. I loved them. I hated them. I am of them.
I'd like to say that this is the next chapter but really we're more likely in chapter four of the Molly saga. I'm in a new place now. A place where I feel more creative and dare I say it, happy. Its been a while. Happy is elusive. I have family with me, my sister and my nephew, good company for the journey. I want more from life. I know I can have more. I don't need permission. I just need to go. I just need to run. That's what I'm finally doing.
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