I’m also doing what I can to clear out the toxins from other areas in my life – even while trying to maintain my sanity as a full-time parent to two teenagers.

But I’ve been mining one area of my life for superficial comic relief lately – and that’s a pretty toxic habit as well (as evidenced by these recent experiences on the dating front).

(Do click through, read that last post, and note the date I wrote it…)

Why superficial? Because that’s how I’ve been approaching dating for oh, the last 5 years (had to go back through the archives to dig this post up as proof). And although the sentiments expressed in them are-oh-so-laudable (putting kids first, keeping parts of my life separated out, remembering my priorities, blah blah blah) – they’re also complete and total bullshit at the end of the day. Or far less true now than they might have been at the time as the kids get older/more independent.

Because the real truth here is that putting myself Out There — in That Way — scares the living shit out of me. And it stops me cold. (Yep, that’s the ‘toxic habit’ part.)

Sure, I’ve gotten good at doing superficial. Surface-level. Cashing mutual physical attraction in for mutual transitory benefits. And I fooled myself into thinking that’s all I had time for – all I wanted. (Or, if you dig a little bit under the surface – as I’ll do for the benefit of all the armchair psychologists reading this right now – all I felt I deserved.)

Until recently, when I told myself (and all of you, in classic @betsywhim oversharing mode) that Enough Was Enough.

And two days later, I met someone who knocked my socks right off. In every possible way.

(I have it on good authority that he’s similarly affected, but far far more restrained than I’m being here, heh…)

Now (here’s the disclaimer – get ready for it!) I have no idea if this is going to last – getting my socks knocked off by this particular guy, that is. But the feeling?

Yeah, this is what I’ve missed. And this is what I want more of.

What in the world am I talking about? The irresistible pull that has you both checking in every night to see how the other’s day was. Him asking how #SheTeen’s concert on Thursday night went afterwards. Me commiserating about job stresses. The insane desire to crawl into his head & learn more about how he ticks. The inside jokes – already. The endearments. The fact that he can look at me, know that I’m holding something back, and wants me to just spill it, please. And the effervescence that’s threatening to spill over as we both anticipate seeing each other later this evening (after we both fulfill kid responsibilities ’cause we both have ‘em. Kids and responsibilities, that is.)

I’ve been talking vaguely on Twitter & Facebook this week about the perma-grin that’s taken up residence on my face these days. Or I’ve talked privately with close friends about the shit-eating grin I’ve been sporting (along with the real reason why I’ve taken up wearing scarves this week, among other details…)

But I’m going public and naming it as the #whimgrin. It’s the bonus you get when you decide to stop being scared shitless and just go out and live life already.

In all areas of your life.

P.S. It has been suggested that perhaps this post is a wee bit premature, given the short history involved. I would argue that my point here is not that it’s this particular man (although I certainly hope that he’ll be here) that’s responsible for the shift – but rather, the change in being honest (from a transparent, ‘owning-it’ POV) about what I’m looking for in general.

Or it’s premature. In which case, so be it…! (I’m a big girl, I’ll live…)

My original goal (as part of my 6-week Nerd Fitness challenge, don’t you know) was to walk 50 miles & bike 50 miles by 6/11/12. Giving me, uh, 6 weeks to accomplish the walking part.

Instead, I did it in less than 3 weeks.

How’d I do it?

• By tracking everything. (This is where RunKeeper on my phone comes in handy.) Well, almost everything. Nope, I’m not including walks through huge grocery stores, or the everyday walking I do as part of my life. But tracking it leads to…
• …getting obsessed with stats. Numbers. Quantifiable, tangible proof of what I’m actually doing. Which leads to…
• setting goals. Sharing goals (here, in the NF forum, or on Twitter). Trying to beat goals. Even when that means leaving the house at 8 am on a busy Saturday morning to accomplish same.

What’s next – especially since there’s more than 3 weeks left in the challenge? Well, I think it might be a bit of a stretch to simply double the goal to 100 miles for the 6 weeks (the insanely atypical sunny Oregon weather did play a significant role in accelerating my walking). And I’m seriously slacking on the ‘biking 50 miles’ goal (again, the nice weather meant more evening grilling & home workouts, less gym workouts, thus no stationary bike time).

But I think 90 miles of walking in 6 weeks is now the new goal. (Per RunKeeper, I’m already 58% of the way there!)

So the #whimstomps? They will continue. Although with far less HULK SMASH mode (as already noted by Twitter commenters @kmcdade & @sabrinapdx).

And to everyone cheering me along? Thank you. You seriously have no real idea just how much you keep me motivated! But you do – oh, yes, you do.

It’s way way way harder to do than you might suspect. (Add a few dozen more ‘way’s to that number and you’ll get a more accurate picture, actually.)

Or else I have:

1. impossibly high standards
2. might want to consider lowering the bar just a wee bit, or
3. have a frighteningly unrealistic view of the world in which I live in here in Portland, Oregon

(Don’t feel like you have to weigh in to point out how All of The Above is probably the most accurate POV here, ok? I get it already, as a Woman of a Certain Maturity.)

But to be brutally honest – while I’m oh-so-good at preaching the ‘avoid the toxic’ gospel in every other aspect of my life, I fail miserably when I try to hold myself to that self-proclaimed ‘impossibly high standards’ standard when I first start seeing someone.

Why? If I continue along in the ‘brutally honest’ vein, I think it’s a self-esteem thing that’s been nurtured and fed during the years I was obese, out-of-shape, and otherwise miserable with myself. If you don’t believe you deserve better – then you’re not going to stand up for yourself to get treated better – are you? Nope.

• So the guy who calls & wants you to drop everything to come have a drink with him in an hour? I rearranged my schedule to make it happen.
• The guy who would ask me to ‘pick up a bottle of wine’ on my way over to his place? I’d not only do so (and pay for it), but ask him what kind of wine he’d prefer.
• The guy who’d not call for weeks at a time – but expect you to be happy to hear from him once he deigned to finally call you? I was chirpy & positive in a frightenly nauseating way. (Seriously scary, that whole ‘chirpy’ shit…)

So here’s the thing I need to constantly remember – if you’re willing to be treated like a doormat from the very beginning, most people will be more than happy to oblige you.

As one of the guys above referenced once in a telling conversation w/me – “I’m a good-looking guy! Woman are happy to have me hanging around & want to buy me drinks, right?” I’m happy to say that it was the last conversation I’ve had with that particular gentleman – but it came after buying at least 1-2 bottles of wine waiting vainly for the expected reciprocity before I finally saw the light.

Your best bet? Don’t tolerate being treated like a doormat.

Right from the very beginning.

(Now, to start chanting this 50 times a day while doing my nightly yoga practice already…)

Highlights:

1. Crushing that whole ‘walk 50 miles’ thing with a bunch of long #whimstomps in the sunshine this last week. I’m 72% complete w/this per Runkeeper – or 36 of the 50 miles already done. Go, me! Except, well, for yesterday…
2. The ‘bike 50 miles’ goal? Not quite so much, as I didn’t spend much time in the gym. But I’m betting that might just change this week. (See the ‘graceless tumble’ part for further details…)
3. Doing a strength workout 3x this past week? Done, baby – DONE.
4. Adding in new activity? Well – how does a daily home yoga practice sound? Added that in as of last Thursday, did a 3-hour workshop on Saturday to cement the concept in.

Low point (see also Graceless Tumbling):

• When someone dares you to tackle a steep hill during a hike in Mt. Tabor yesterday? Even if he shoots you a grin alongside said dare that normally melts your insides? JUST. SAY. NO. Let’s just say that the resulting foot instability, sprain & subsequent tumble was not at all attractive…

Sure, I was able to make it home afterwards. And then I was stupid enough to take on another 2.5 #whimstomp in my own neighborhood afterwards (“cause I felt okay, don’t you know). But oh, did I pay for it when I tried to walk on the now-swollen foot hours later yesterday evening.

After arnica, elevation, icing, and a timely application of a cocktail or two, I’m in much better shape today. Thus far, anyway. But today’s #whimstomp (or, more pragmatically, long stationary bike ride at the gym this evening) should be an interesting one….

Best. Mothers Day. Gift. EVAH.

(Until later today, when #HeTeen takes us both to Dick’s Kitchen for my Mother’s Day dinner, that is…)

Now, back out to enjoy the lovely atypical Portland Mother’s Day sunshine. Hope your day is equally spendiferous!

Monday AM UPDATE: #SheTeen did, in fact, get dessert last evening. Thought you’d want to know/I’d better document it…!