Tabatha Deans

SING IT LOUD, SING IT PROUD
I must admit, on the roller coaster of life I’m currently up. I’ve been exercising regularly, eating right and haven’t had a cigarette for nearly a week. Okay, the not smoking is driving my eating right (a lot of celery sticks) and my regular exercise (I walk when I crave a smoke, which has effectively sent me around the city completely at least a dozen times.) My tongue is returning to its normal color, although I do have a bit of a sore throat and something funky going on in my chest, but I’m told that’s my body healing itself.
The weather has been great, and I spent the day at the Botanic Gardens with Mr. R, then a picnic in the park to finish the date. I got home and A—didn’t want to be inside because it was so nice outside. 80 degrees with a cool breeze blowing the scent of the blossoms from the tree, and B—My old habit of immediately wanting a cigarette upon returning from a date began to creep up on me. So I put on my jogging clothes, cranked up my iPod and took off jogging.
It was one of those jogs where I didn’t seem to tire, and I jogged aimlessly through town, past St. Francis homeless shelter, along the light rail line and back through Civic Center Park. Every song that came to my ears was better than the last, and after 40 minutes I headed home. As soon as I got within a block of my apartment building, I had an overwhelming urge to smoke, so I took off jogging again. I jogged until my legs were burning, and finally the thought of going home didn’t make me want to light up, so I slowed to a walk and started down the shady walk of 16th Avenue.
Proud of myself for not caving to my craving, I strutted a little as I listened to Glen Campbell, which always reminds me of when I was young and carefree. Caught up in the moment, and feeling great, I forgot where I was, and when “Rhinestone Cowboy” began playing, I started singing along. Loudly, and with feeling. And maybe I was dancing just a little bit along the stone slab sidewalk. Until I hit the intersection at Downing Street, where I was reminded of my whereabouts as a half a dozen cyclists zoomed past me from behind. Oh well, I had my headset on so I had no idea if I was even close to singing in key…so they could put that in their pipe and smoke it—or not…

May 31, 2012 - Posted by Tabatha Stewart | Uncategorized