10.21.2008

Lazy Train

The first sport I ever joined was dance in Mankato. I think I was three or four? Needless to say that didn't last long, I like to think I have some sort of rhythm now but if you asked me to copy a dance number I would laugh in your face. Next I was in soccer and track in Rosemount (maybe squirt ball too.. I can't quite remember.) And when my family moved to Belle Plaine I was pretty much involved in every sport possible from the age of eight until sixteen. Softball, basketball, tennis, soccer, bowling, volleyball and track. And from third through fifth grade I dabbled in touch football with the boys at recess and after school program.

Every aspect of my life revolved around sports and being active. The first thing I wanted to be when I grew up was a figure skater.. even though I am horrible on ice skates. When I got older and realized I could actually have a future in volleyball my life revolved around it, six days a week for probably forty weeks a year. I LOVED it. One problem though... I HATED school. And in high school you play if you pass and by tenth grade I was never passing every class every quarter. Meaning volleyball slowly slipped away from me. But I still went to practice everyday and sat on the bench with the team and loved the game. I was lazy when it came to school.. but probably the most active person out of all of my friends and maybe even all of my peers.

I still remember watching our varsity volleyball team crumble at state two years in a row and telling all of my team mates in our huddles afterwards, even though no one was watching us now, they would be when we were seniors. Fast forward five years... my team was at state in the bronze medal game. And I was sitting with my boyfriend in the stands with everyone else on the edge of my seat watching. Six years of playing competitive volleyball (competitive anything for that matter), a broken ankle, concussion, and two severe asthma attacks and never once did I shed a tear. That day when my friends and once team mates stood in front of 10,000+ people in the Xcel Center and wore their Bronze medals, I laughed and cried at the same time.



For reasons I will speak of some other time, I dropped out of high school after my sophomore year and "homeschooled" with my mother. My high school guidance counselor at the time had told me if I made that decision I would not be eligible to play on the schools sport teams anymore. A factor that almost had me live out the rest of my dreadful high school years in that hell hole, but inevidibly I decided my mental health and sanity were more important that a silly sports team. I later, at the next seasons volleyball home opener, came to find out that that indeed was not true and I could have been playing all along. But it was too late, I was replaced and my once "understudy" was now the new team captain and doing a damn good job at it, so there ended my volleyball career.

I could have very well gone out for basketball or softball after that and done just as well as I had in the past. But it just wasn't the same anymore.

I felt like a piece of me were lost... for good.

I was never a "stick" and super skinny and I wouldn't necessarily classify myself as being obese now. But I am definitely not in the shape I once was. I guess that is understandable when you go from exercising at least three hours a day, six days a week, to having the most activity you partake in in a month being to carrying a twenty pound bag of cat food up a flight of twelve steps. For three summers I played women's league slow pitch softball and this past summer I did co-ed beach volleyball. But that was only once a week, and usually involved putting down a six pack in the mean time.

So all in all it is quite fair to say that I am a very lazy person now. I don't want to be and I know if I were to become more physically fit again that would help me feel more emotionally fit as well. So I am going to dedicate the next few days to coming up with some sort of work out plan. Also, considering in high school I was only eating two meals a day and probably working that all off each day too in practice, I need to work out a more healthier meal plan or something of the sort.

I know that if I could do it when I was... sheesh... twelve years old (the age when I really got into volleyball and keeping fit) then I can certainly make it work now!

And I will!

xoxo,

Meghan... with an "h"

10.20.2008

Meghan... with an "h"

I want to use this blog as a venue for me to talk straight to myself and try and figure out this crazy thing I refer to as my life. But before I can do that I need to come to terms with some facts about myself. So here I go...

1. I have become very lazy
2. I am not motivated to do much at all anymore
3. I am stubborn and selfish
4. I lie more than ever now (to myself and others)
5. I am indecisive and lost in myself mostly
6. I am not happy

These are things that I know and have known about myself for awhile, but I try to hide and deny. It may seem that being I think these things about myself, or I KNOW these things about myself I should say, that I have very low self esteem. But I wouldn't say so. The list above only mentions the negative things I am feeling right now and doing right now that have put me in the situations I am in now. If I were to list all of the positive aspects of my life and myself I know it would outweigh this list by far.

I have changed a lot in the past few years from what I once was and from the actions I used to commit... some for the better and others for the worse.  I have viewed myself in many different lights and had all sorts of opinions of myself. But I guess that the only way to get deep down to the root of the issues I am facing with myself right now I should go back as far as I can remember to my first self image and work forward from there. 

That is why I have titled my blog 'Meghan... with an "h."' I don't remember exactly how I felt about myself when I was first starting school in kindergarten. I don't know if I thought I was fat (I hope I didn't though), I don't know if I was so stressed about my future and the decisions I needed to make that every time I bathed I lost a fist fold of hair to the drain and I don't think when I looked at myself in the mirror I had no idea who I was looking at anymore (on the inside as well as the outside.) But I do remember that ever since I learned how to spell my name, anytime I had to spell or tell anyone how to spell it that is what I said. Meghan... with an "h". I have always felt like I had to specify to people that my name was not just an ordinary name, it wasn't just a simple name that was in the top twenty baby girl names the year I was born. MY name was special. I do realize that there are millions of Meghans out there that also spell their name with an "h." And I also realize that there are Meghans out there that spell it even more uniquely (ex: Megyn, Meagan, Magen, etc.) But I know that now; now that I am twenty years old, I know that. When I was five though.. I knew only one other Megan (not millions) just one. And as you can see she spelt her name WITHOUT an "h." So, to me, I was the special one. My name was different and I was different. I was not just a plain Jane, boring, normal Megan. I saw myself as special, special enough that I made it known to anyone that asked "What is your name?" That I was 'Meghan... with an "h".' And to this day I still recite those same words. Maybe not anytime someone meets me and asks my name, my internal recording of that phrase has advanced with the technology of todays world. Meaning that when I give someone my cell phone number and they are entering it, is usually when I somehow make sure I sneak in that my name is not just "Megan", but Meghan... with and "h."

It may not seem like much or explain at all how me remembering this small detail of my childhood is going to help me figure out the very large detail of what I need to do with my life now. But to me it speaks volumes. It tells me that small glimmer of a light I still feel inside myself that I am "special" and unique just might actually still mean something.  And if I could see myself that way at the young age of five... I am sure I can get back to that again today at the age of twenty.




Now anytime I come to my blog to write I can see those words and remember. Remember that little kindergarten girl who ran around head high and free spirited, thinking no one else in the room mattered but me (and certainly not that OTHER Megan) because I was special. And hopefully I can find that light again or at least a new flame to brighten up that light again now. By remembering.

That is all for now.

xoxo,
Meghan... with an "h"