Reflection #Having a word wi me sen

Recently, people have asked ‘how come you are so calm lately?’ I tell them, I’ve  started to ‘#Have a word wi me sen‘. Yep a standard Yorkshire slang, but very true.

Sounds simple, eh? and they are like ‘eh?, I don’t get ya?‘ , of course you ‘don’t get me, and thats the point, I’d started not getting  Me sen, I felt lost and felt like I didn’t know who I was anymore’!

Its hard to explain (and I am trusting by that doing this blogging malarky, might will help me understand more)

Let me be clear though – The happier, less stressed Tracey, didn’t happen over night, I didn’t wake up and think ‘thats it! im going to change‘  have been contemplating “well procrastinating” and thinking for quite a while, in fact far longer than I care to admit. Because thats all I had been doing for a few years, is ‘fucking think’.  Now don’t get me wrong I’ve been keeping busy, working hard, achieving great work, going on nice holidays, making time for me best friends, but thats all I have been doing.

BUT I’ve still done nothing, not achieved something on a deeper level, I can only describe it as ‘losing me MOJO’ 

And its not for the one of trying,  I get all fired up saying, ‘right thats it, I’m going to run everyday now‘ OR ‘I‘m going to stop eating crap at the weekend’ OR ‘I’m not taking on anymore SHIT at work anymore’  you name it I have said many a time,  ‘THATS IT’ but then the burning ember, soon dies again and when I does, im back to square one feeling more of a ‘fucking failure’ AND the procrastination cycle starts again…

Whats different though this time, is that I am using my thinking to question some of my under lying, long term beliefs and values! anyone can think, you can think until the cows come home. What  I’m talking about is thinking a little deeper AND you don’t need to sign up to meditation classes or turn vegan ‘YES’ I said it ‘Fuck me EVERY ONE (well not everyone) is fucking Vegan, its the new ‘in thing’ and we have got vegan friendly restaurants popping up all over to accommodate this new band of  ‘VEGANS’. AND no,  before I carry on ranting, I genuinly have nothing personal against the people who have chosen to go vegan, BUT I do question their motives, think the majority of this vegan movement is more about whats ‘cool’ its the new socially acceptable ‘in thing’. I question, ‘do people actually really want or like being vegan, or are they doing it because their mate at uni is doing it?’ I quite frankly ‘don’t know the answer’ What I would question though is,  do these individuals understand, or accept these beliefs and values? or are they just copying other people, based on their underlying belief (based on what they see) that the other person, ‘seems so much happier than me, it must be since they turned vegan’. if I turn vegan then I’ll be happy like them. AGAIN, forgive me, I started using vegans as an example and it turned into a FULL BLOWN RANT.

Right back to me,  I digress – This is my own personal journey and my hopes and aspirations are my own and unique to me,  so me telling people what to think is a complete waste of time. all I have done is start to question my own beliefs and values. whilst I can tell myself that I’m unique and I will tell you ‘I  don’t care what other people think, this is actually a lie, because I do, more than you will ever know’  AND thats my friend is whats changed.

Ive stopped comparing myself to others, well im learning and trying NOT to.

Ive been taking just a little time out of my day ‘for me’ whether thats sitting here writing every morning, going out at lunch time, for a walk and a brows around the shops, instead of sitting and committing ALL of my working day ‘to work’ – I’ve learned that work isn’t a competition, but I feel like for the past few years  I have allowed it to feel like that. I have been putting myself forward vying for 1st place everytime time. AND let me tell you “its fucking exhausting’ 

I haven’t signed up to any program, I’ve just signed up to putting myself first AND thats been the most empowering thing I have done for AGES and guess what? ‘ITS FUCKING FREE, Yes I said it FREE…

So fuck you slimming world, taking my cash every week to tell me I’m a failure, because I gained or stayed the same (ps I don’t do slimming world, but thats what I think it does to people AND they pay for the fucking privalige)

FUCK you alcohol I don’t need you to have a good time, I can still be the same sarcastic twat with out you thanks very much!

“So, whats helped me learn this? it has been going back to basics, back to ME, I had lost the ability to ‘listen to myself’ to ‘trust myself’ to ‘value me and what I want’ to ‘stop putting other peoples feeling first’ (that doesn’t mean I don’t care about anyone, far from it)”

Right, morning rant outta way, I’ve got some ‘real work to do’ (see the sarcasm)  and I’m looking forward to going, because I am going into work knowing that whilst I love my job, im good at my job, thats all it is, it doesn’t define who I AM, it defines me a little but its NOT ALL ABOUT WORK. so I am defiantly signing off, see you next time, unless I decide to get pissed tonight and crawl back into me shallow shell again….


Love Tracey x

# Had a word wi me sen


This blog isn’t about weight loss, if I’m honest, I don’t remember the last time I got on the scales, because quite simply ‘what I saw every time fucking depress -ed me’  When did I start measuring my self worth based on a couple of digits? (actually when you think about it, it is rather insane)

Its my second week of getting up at 5.45am, getting me kit on, ‘its not a good look, let me tell thee’ I bang my Spotify on, set me run keeper app and I’m off. – sounds so easy and simplistic doesn’t it, but I’ll let you into a secret, this is a BIG deal for me, when I started running last year, it was winter, so them early morning runs were mainly in the dark ‘This was why I ran in the morning, because it felt more comfortable’ because no one would see me AND me kangaroo pouch bouncing up and down. However the more I ran, the lighter the mornings became, the more comfortable I became ‘in my own skin’ I love jogging pass the morning dog walkers saying ‘Morning’ and no longer worry about what they think about me, I mean really who gives fuck? well I did, but my point is, I don’t know these people personally, so why am I allowing a complete stranger make me feel ashamed, well in theory I wasn’t, it wasn’t them, it was me….

I’ve started to love going for me early morning run, this morning I did just under 2 miles (1.93 to be exact) when I was training for the half marathon, I was happy with the 12 minute miles I was attaining. When I decided to start going for a morning runs again, I set off out of the house and headed up my road (small incline) and did a fast walk, to warm myself up, at the top, I upped me pace into a gentle jog.  I remember thinking ‘fuck me I’m unfit again, that didn’t take long!’ But then I reminded myself (Had a word) ‘Christ Tracey, gi thee sen a break, you’ve just been on holiday, drinking everyday sunbathing, do pretty much fuck all exercise, why are you surprised it feels uncomfortable’ 

With that in mind, I decided to just take me time (after all its not a fucking race)    at the top of the road, the road starts to decline ‘great a reprieve, now that feels better’ at the bottom of the road, I take a left turn, another hill but, I reason with myself its shorter and if I take my time, I’ll soon be back onto flat surface.

Half way up, I’m breathing and sweating like a fucking xxxxxx (xxxxx is what really wanted to say, but it was highly inappropriate). so here I am pushing through it! I’m telling me sen ‘I don’t like this, this is not, nice!’ then I had a light bulb moment ‘WALK THEN, ya fucking weirdo’ simple eh? after all:

  • its not a race
  • im not holding anyone back, I’m on my own
  • I look round and the views are impressive – take the views in, take a mental photo

I’m supposed to be enjoying this – well I am now I’m walking, I actually started to laugh at myself, if anyone had seen me they would have thought I was a weirdo too!

I picked up my pace again, nice and steady and started to get me own little swagger on, and continued at that pace all the way home. I get home check my runkeeper app, 14 minute miles. ‘I’ll take that’ because you know what? as soon as I #had a word wi me sen, I loved every minute of it! I didn’t lose half a stone, i certainly didn’t look healthier (in fact, I looked like xxxxxxxxxx) I’m still not saying it!

BUT I felt fucking amazing, sometimes I do feel like shouting stop the fucking world I want to get off!’ I sat on the back garden, wi me black coffee and vape, making the most of the post exercise come down, that natural high, you get after doing something slightly energetic and I felt bloody amazing, OMG i am having a day ja view moment… ‘Ive been writing this blog before, weird, but a nice weird. 

Anyway, back to me blog, the point I am trying to make is, it was a subtle reminder to self that, I can make anything as hard or as easy as I want.

‘Do I want to measure a successful run by how many minute miles I did? or how hard it felt? Nah do I fuck,

The only person putting pressure on myself was ‘ME’. Does it matter how fast, or how far I ran, at least I DID IT and now I’m sat here at my little Ikea desk writing about it and sharing it with you, before have to get of me ass and to work.

Love Tracey x

1st EVER Blog

HI guys

Im Tracey, im 48 years old, I live with my long term partner, also  affectionately known as ‘Pat the Twat‘ . I also have two grown up daughters, Lauren 26 and Danielle 31.

At the beginning of the year I think I had a mid life crisis! more like started to ‘Have a word wi me sen‘. I’ve lived a very varied life (will share more about me as we go on in the blogs) some of it was horrific,  embarrassing,  exciting, rewarding some of it has been brilliant!

As well as dealing with my own addiction in my early twenties, in my thirties I found myself caring, supporting and losing my ‘Bad Ass’ dad to alcoholism.

During this time, when I couldn’t sleep, so rather than toss and turn in bed, i’d get me sen up,  go downstairs, open my A4 notebook and write down all the shit that was keeping me awake. (Its fair to say there is a-lot of shit in those books)

I’ve always wanted to write, but to be quite Frank ‘Im not the best at English, my grammar is crap, I like to swear, and I don’t know what im writing about most of the time’ but this writing malarky is like fucking itch that won’t go away.  Before dad passed, many a time people have said ‘you could/should write a book’ , writing a book sounds ‘Fucking brilliant doesn’t it?’. 

‘Of course it sounds brilliant’ I’ve even started writing the book (three un-edited chapters) I have the title for the book and everything! what you don’t know is I started writing the fucking thing over 12 years ago!

So, back to the mid life crisis. don’t asked me where it came from? but I started  to have some rather depressing thoughts, I’m like thinking about the fact  ‘I’m 50 in two years’ thats three quarters into my life!

Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel physically old, I’m fit (I swapped the fags for my trusty E-cig two years ago) I like running (well a gentle jog) but the bottom line is whilst my body is showing signs of ageing and I’ve come to accept that the ‘bastard cellulite’ aint going any where any time soon! there is still life in the ‘Old Bitch’ . I’ve been procastinating about actually doing something for years with this writing, I  remind myself constently ‘when are you going to do summit?’  For my 40th I even had a tatoo saying ‘Procrastination is the thief it time’ as a reminder, and here I am eight years later, still doing the same as I have always done ‘fucking procrastinating about procrastinating’

I visulised myself being present at my fiftieth birthday party, celebrating a GREAT life, but secretly thinking to myself  ‘your all gob!, you still haven’t done anything, about that book, what a fucking waste’  

Bottom line is ‘I aint getting any younger’ so I have three options, I can either

  1. Shut up – stop moaning
  2. Put up – accept it
  3. Or do fucking something about it

So, guys heres my attempt of blogging trying to make sense of my 48 years in preparation for me 50th and also to help get me writing that ‘Bastard book’

Wish me luck, love Tracey

1st June 2018