My Slice of Cake
While I’m waiting for notes from my editor that should be coming in sometime in the next two or three weeks (such a maddeningly vague amount of time) I’ve been taking care of all of the things I ignored or put off while I was deep into the final stages of the manuscript. I’ve been clearing off my desk, catching up on the things that have stayed on the bottom of my to-do list, and I’ve started a weight loss program. It’s not going great.
I need to get a new headshot for the book cover and promotional materials, and so now’s the time to shake off the cobwebs and spruce up the image, right? This is when plopping my rear in the chair for the many hours, days, weeks, and months on end while scraping my hair back into a pony and skipping the workouts led to a more academic look of soft lines and fuzzy sweaters versus a polished there is nothing that will faze me kind of appearance that a marketing team looks for. So, how do I get from here to there? I’m going to fake it till I make it, I guess.
As most writers are, I’m the kind of person that lives in my head, not in my body. It has it’s positives and negatives, a positive being I can skip out whenever I’m under pressure or things are getting too heavy around here, go right into my head. I look at things intellectually then try to research and rationalize myself out of problems. A negative is that I often overlook the importance of taking care of this sack of skin and bones that I live in. Meaning that the care has to be intentional.
I can take some cues from the Tigerbelles. Athletes, by nature, have to live in their bodies. Their bodies are the machines that carry them to the heights they aim to achieve. While I struggle with the idea of placing too much importance on my physical appearance and what that says about me and society in general, athletes focus on their bodies for an entirely different reason – for strength and performance.
Today’s athletes have intensely regimented training routines that cover every aspect of their lives. Just look at Tom Brady’s diet and exercise program as one example. While this kind of discipline is common now, in the 1950s for women especially, this attention to detail was more unusual. But discipline was what it took to obtain results and Coach Temple knew it. He taught it to his Tigerbelles.
Barbara Jones described herself as “a little hippy,” although it’s hard to see it now. She loved to have a slice of pie or cake after her meals in the cafeteria. I would think a young woman in her early twenties running several miles a day could afford the treat, but when it was training time, Barbara was told in no uncertain terms, absolutely not.
Coach Temple told the ladies in the cafeteria that Barbara wasn’t allowed to have any pie, and they complied. No pie for Barbara.
Pie was just one of the thousands of sacrifices that Barbara Jones and all of her teammates made, and who can argue with their results?
I am not shooting for a gold medal, so my goals are of a slightly different nature, and the steps I have to take require more sitting still than running. So, maybe I should enjoy some more of that gorgeous lemon pound cake my friend brought over last night. What’s wrong with soft lines and a fuzzy sweater after all? And as Holly says, “Cake makes everything better.”
I hope two-times Olympic gold medalist Barbara Jones is enjoying her cake too. She earned it.
Until next week!