Up. Down. And all around. My emotions that is... and this post- and it's not even that time of the month! Lord help my hubby.
On my way to LA Boxing today, I realized that my other half had carried my boxing gloves inside and I didn't have them. It set me off. He KNEW I was going to workout, so why did my boxing gloves have to go inside with the groceries for all of one hour? I get it- We live near a shopping center and cars get robbed. But seriously!?! I don't think people are out in broad daylight breaking into minivans for boxing gloves. Or maybe I'm just too trusting.
I've made it a point to workout this week because I really need a stress reliever. My grandma was rushed to the hospital on Sunday night and was admitted to the ICU. Let me tell you about this woman- She is the matriarch of our family. She's all of 4'11" and feistier than hell. I know in my heart that all she is trying to do is live one day longer than my grandfather- who she has been married to for 62 years. My "Pappy" is suffering from Alzheimer's and they share a love like I've never witnessed between any other two individuals.
When I saw her Sunday night, I saw eyes that were scared- Not of facing death, but of not being there for my grandfather. Nanny has always hated cats. But she is just like one- the lady has nine lives (knock on wood) and is fighting back to health.
I received an e-mail this week from someone that knows what's been going on, and he said, "Hit those bags harder than hell." And today, that's just what I did.
I was drenched in sweat, had a scowl on my face, and at one point started crying. Luckily, no one noticed because of the crazy amount of sweat dripping down my face. Insurance companies should pay for gym memberships in full because I swear today was better than therapy. I never knew how much emotion I have pent up inside of me. I'm always smiling and in a good mood, but one thing lead to another.
It went something like this: I had to put on the nasty community boxing gloves. I was hitting the bag cursing my hubby. And then I realized that I had worn these gloves for two months and as disgusting as they are, they have seen me through so much. I then started beating the bag harder because I've let myself regress and have gained weight back. I'm mad at myself and the choices I have made. And from there, I was just crazy and off my rocker. I began hitting the bag wishing I could take away all of the pain. I was wishing I would never lose my grandma and that I could just beat cancer to death and do away with Alzheimer's. The more I punched, the more I realized how my heart is aching. I hate seeing people suffer- and it didn't help that I saw a family gathered around a 38-year old man taking his last breaths. He had cancer... and a young family. Sometimes, life just doesn't seem fair. I think at one point I was even thinking of all the things in life that I have no control over- and even the Redskins win/loss record crossed my mind. I was tired, but didn't want to stop hitting something.
The more I hit the bag, the more I realized that the one thing I can control is my life and the choices I make. I can control what I put in my mouth and whether or not I work out. I recommitted myself to this journey.
I have a feeling that the next few months are going to be very trying for my family. What happens when the glue that holds everything together is gone? There are things I can't control... and after killing the bag, it hit me. I'm going to have to learn to roll with the punches. And I'm going to have to be strong and be a fighter- just like my grandmother.
P.S. To the concerned citizen in Ashburn who called the police after spotting an old man that looked confused- THANK YOU. My grandfather had been missing and had walked about two miles from his house. And to the policeman who picked him up, Thank you. And to the paramedics and Ashburn Fire Department who transported my grandmother. Thank you. Words can't express how grateful we all are.