Out of my element-o-p
(Get it? Like L M N O P? Oh, nevermind.)
So I recently (like 7 or 8 months ago) started working as an assistant in the scouting program with the Webelos. I like it, I really do, but this is a stretch for me. I feel completely under qualified and a little in the dark. The woman who is the Webelos leader is amazing to say the least. She manages to make it fun and informative and all the boys who have been in her den have obtained all the merit badges/beltloops/awards they can while they are with her for that short 1 year time period. The thing is, I know I could totally be that way too, once I put my mind to it. But sadly, scouting isn't something that really grabs my interest. I'm not passionate about it like I was when I was working with the little kids on Sundays in the Primary at our church. I miss those little kids. Put me in a room with the 12 and under crowd and I feel right at home. Want me to read a book and imitate the voices of 7 different characters? Great! Need someone to make something boring sound super exciting and appealing to children? Done. But ask me to teach a group of 10 year old boys how to tie a knot or build a house out of egg cartons and honey, and I choke. This week I'm in charge of the "lesson" and I'm drawing a blank. Fitness is the topic. Fitness?
Yes. Fitness.
Um, excuse me? Have you seen my chins? Seriously. They have multiplied since the last time we've met. Those Webelos boys will be looking to me to show them the things they need to do to earn their Fitness merit badges and I can't stop munching on the delicious pink birthday cake we had for Miss Loo Loo to celebrate her 4th year of existence. Ugh! I feel it as we speak expanding my backside and establishing permanent residency in my triceps and abdominal cavity.
In an attempt to rectify the wrongful discrimination that has been thrust upon me by age and laziness, I have started to run. Like Forest Gump, when he's running from the mean boys who are chasing him on their bikes and Jenny shouts the infamous, "Run, Forest, run!" phrase, and Forest's leg braces break off his legs in slow motion and he has a moment of realization that he can run uninhibited for the first time in his life and Forest's narration says something like, "From that time on, whenever I went somewhere, I was running-ah." That's sorta what I've been doing. Except it's only been running from my car to the house, or from the front room to my bathroom to use the toilet. Or there was the time yesterday when I ran to chase a male dog away from my yard where he had come a'sniffin' because he smelled Daisy and wanted to, ahem, "play".
But unlike Forest, it does not come easily to me. I struggle to catch my breath and I find myself wheezing after the first 45 feet. I'm smart enough to know that this is something that I need to build up to and that I can't expect to see/feel results after only 36 hours of beginning, but I can say that once the last bite of that cursed, mouth watering birthday cake has been consumed, then I will feel a whole lot less tempted and a whole lot more dedicated. Maybe even a little more energetic. Yes. I expect to see big things happen.
And now that I've put this out there for the world to see, I guess I better run. (Get it? It's time to go so I said "run"?)
And so it begins...
So I recently (like 7 or 8 months ago) started working as an assistant in the scouting program with the Webelos. I like it, I really do, but this is a stretch for me. I feel completely under qualified and a little in the dark. The woman who is the Webelos leader is amazing to say the least. She manages to make it fun and informative and all the boys who have been in her den have obtained all the merit badges/beltloops/awards they can while they are with her for that short 1 year time period. The thing is, I know I could totally be that way too, once I put my mind to it. But sadly, scouting isn't something that really grabs my interest. I'm not passionate about it like I was when I was working with the little kids on Sundays in the Primary at our church. I miss those little kids. Put me in a room with the 12 and under crowd and I feel right at home. Want me to read a book and imitate the voices of 7 different characters? Great! Need someone to make something boring sound super exciting and appealing to children? Done. But ask me to teach a group of 10 year old boys how to tie a knot or build a house out of egg cartons and honey, and I choke. This week I'm in charge of the "lesson" and I'm drawing a blank. Fitness is the topic. Fitness?
Yes. Fitness.
Um, excuse me? Have you seen my chins? Seriously. They have multiplied since the last time we've met. Those Webelos boys will be looking to me to show them the things they need to do to earn their Fitness merit badges and I can't stop munching on the delicious pink birthday cake we had for Miss Loo Loo to celebrate her 4th year of existence. Ugh! I feel it as we speak expanding my backside and establishing permanent residency in my triceps and abdominal cavity.
In an attempt to rectify the wrongful discrimination that has been thrust upon me by age and laziness, I have started to run. Like Forest Gump, when he's running from the mean boys who are chasing him on their bikes and Jenny shouts the infamous, "Run, Forest, run!" phrase, and Forest's leg braces break off his legs in slow motion and he has a moment of realization that he can run uninhibited for the first time in his life and Forest's narration says something like, "From that time on, whenever I went somewhere, I was running-ah." That's sorta what I've been doing. Except it's only been running from my car to the house, or from the front room to my bathroom to use the toilet. Or there was the time yesterday when I ran to chase a male dog away from my yard where he had come a'sniffin' because he smelled Daisy and wanted to, ahem, "play".
But unlike Forest, it does not come easily to me. I struggle to catch my breath and I find myself wheezing after the first 45 feet. I'm smart enough to know that this is something that I need to build up to and that I can't expect to see/feel results after only 36 hours of beginning, but I can say that once the last bite of that cursed, mouth watering birthday cake has been consumed, then I will feel a whole lot less tempted and a whole lot more dedicated. Maybe even a little more energetic. Yes. I expect to see big things happen.
And now that I've put this out there for the world to see, I guess I better run. (Get it? It's time to go so I said "run"?)
And so it begins...
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