I am a bit cranky right now.

I am down with a mean little sinus infection.  I am choosing to listen to my body and giving it good food, solid sleep and some quality healing time.  (And there’s also the fact that my coach ‘strongly suggested’ it was the smart thing to do.)

But I haven’t run in days. And the ritual of getting ready, running, the feeling of accomplishment that comes from a solid training run… Well.  I miss it.

I’m was in a conversation with a woman at work today about the fact that I was not running.

‘Good to take a break and let your body heal. You know running is hard on your knees and back and I just read that too much running is really bad for your ‘girl parts’.’

Ok. Huh. Girl parts.

The conversation could have gone several different ways at that point.

If I were getting in my regular training time and not feeling icky-sick and exercise-deprived, I would have laughed and said something like…

‘I wear a good sports bra and I’m not using my uterus anyway.  I am more worried about being attacked by a cougar while I’m out running trails.’

But as I said, I am not getting in my regular training runs.

I’m publicly admitting that I am a little cranky.

Ok. I’m grumpy. Maybe even a little more than grumpy.

So I wound up being pretty blunt and pointing out that Type 2 Diabetes and those extra 220 pounds I had been carrying around for close to 20 years had been trying really, really hard to KILL me.

So when you think about all of that?  My love for running and the possibility of my uterus falling out is the least of my worries…

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But this whole exchange caught my attention.  And leads me to a bigger question…

And my size-11 feet are kicking right up against the base of a pretty big soapbox…

Why can’t women support, promote, encourage other women? 

Why can’t we enthusiastically support other peoples loves and lives?

Why can’t we just support what other people say they love and want to do without placing our fears and judgement and unsolicited opinions on THEIR dreams?

Seriously.

And I’m guilty of this crappy dream-dousing behavior too.

GUILTY as hell.

This whole ‘girl parts’ conversation made me aware of the potentially fantastic shift that could occur if I were to choose carefully about how I react and comment when people invite me into their conversations about what they cherish and value and love…  What if I just declared myself ‘on their team’ no matter what that team might be?

SO I’m going to pay attention to it for the next few weeks and see if I can’t make a new habit out of supporting — without hesitation or placing my own judgements/concerns/jealousies — on what THEY are excited about.

I’ll give my little social experiment the rest of this Lenten season.  I’ll be intentional, supportive and endeavor to learn why they feel so passionately.

Not sure this will save my uterus from falling out the next time I get to go for a run, but I’ll give it a shot anyway. 🙂

(My sister says I should have named this blog, “I’m ovary being sick.”)