Reading all these blog posts makes me really disappointed in myself. I feel like I jump on board ideas, then give up. And then have a million excuses why I gave up. I mean, they're legitimate excuses- I didn't break 65 minutes in 2011 for the Crim because I got a broken jaw 10 days before, I stopped training for marathons because it's hard to balance single motherhood and running 20 mile training runs, I gained a bunch of weight because I got sick in 2012, I gave up my running streak in 2010 because I had a broken foot, I didn't run the Ann Arbor half in 2014 because I had cervical cancer and had surgery, etc. The list goes on. See? All legit excuses, but I HATE excuses.
About 2 weeks ago, I ate meat for the first time. I felt overwhelmed by life that weekend (excuse), and I've always had a weird relationship with food and eat my feelings. I had a hamburger. It tasted delicious, but I promised myself it was just a fluke, I needed to get it out of my system, and that I'd not do it again. Two days later I had chicken wings. I didn't eat meat again for a week, but I had things with dairy in them. Then after the week passed, I had chicken wings again, 2 days in a row. I felt really guilty at first, but then thought maybe if I just had meat on the weekends, sometimes, I'd be ok. For the hell of it, I decided to count how many days I lasted with a plant based diet- 226 days. Weird coincidence that it was unintentionally the same amount of days as my running streak that got stopped from the broken foot? For sure a weird coincidence, but it definitely made me feel less guilty about stopping for some reason.
Today was the hottest run I've done in a year or so, but I love hot, humid runs. My fingers get super fat and I get super sweaty, but I feel tough. I feel like random things in my life, (financial, friendships, work stuff, etc) are like, spiraling, and I get super overwhelmed and get stress pimples and sore muscles from worrying, and I can't control the pimples, and can only sort of control the other things, that I feel better about myself if I run several miles in the heat. I can control that. I can control my hydration, speed, the clothes I wear, etc. And it makes me feel like a better person.
My running blog makes me sound like a nutball and this entry sounds so depressing. It's not. I'm happy. In general, I'm the happiest I've been, probably ever. I just am in a constant battle with stress management, and running is a huge getaway for that.
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