Monday, October 17, 2016

Take a Break, Run Away With Us for the Summer

In the past two months I:

*Got a promotion at work
*Trained for the promotion
*Busted my ass at my new job
*Injured myself
*Recovered(ing) from injury

I haven't blogged much. Too much to do, too little time I suppose. I started writing again so what time I have left my brain nags at me until I get the voices in my head down on paper (or typed on the computer).

I am taking a break from running until I start my marathon training in December. I have a nagging glute/hip pain after I run any sort of distance. Plan is to rest the crap out of it and work on my weight lifting instead. Build up the muscles in that area to keep myself injury free.

Until then, until the book is finished, just until...I probably won't blog much. I do still like to read everyone's posts, that's for sure. So you keep writing, I'll keep reading, maybe comment when I can. And eventually we'll all meet again real soon!
When I was sixteen, a sophomore in high school, I sat next to an older boy in my social studies class. He was a senior, but flunked the class his sophomore year, which explained his presence in a class for tenth graders. I was shy in high school, at least when not surrounded by my fellow theatre and choir geeks, and like a shark sensing fresh blood in the water, he attacked.

For weeks he sat next to me and whispered vile and disgusting things, all sexual in nature. They were horrific and disturbing and sixteen year old Meg had no clue had to cope with something like this. I ignored him, pretended I couldn't hear a word he said, focused on my classwork.

He was good, always managed to whisper just loud enough for me to hear but not loud enough for the teacher to notice. Occasionally the other boys, because yes, I was surrounded by boys, would tell him to stop. But, then again, he was a senior, bigger and scarier than them.

One day my teacher happened to sneak up on him from the opposite side as he leaned across towards me and continued his nasty whispers. To this day I have never heard a teacher get so angry. Honestly, I think the teacher would have punched him. Instead, he had this senior removed from class. He never came back.

And so started my history with sexual harassment.

I have had bosses tell me I have nice tits. I have been crowded into a corner of a supply closet by a co-worker and groped. I have had strangers yell at me while I run. I have had people tell me to smile more. The list goes on and on and on, over and over, lather, rinse, repeat.