Fear

After not being able to run due to illness for 6 weeks, running on Monday - though difficult since I'm not completely healthy - felt so freeing.  Yet when yesterday dawned and I was set to head out on another run, I broke down.  I talked myself out of going, even though the sun was shining and the weather was perfect.  I cleaned my house and watched t.v. instead, telling myself I'd go after the kids were in bed last night.

But I didn't.

Today a million voices rage in my head, my old demons telling me that I'm not good enough and that I'm not going to be able to meet my goals and wouldn't it just be easier to give up now?  Then there are the other voices, the voices of the many friends I've made since I started running, telling me to keep going, that I've come so far already, and that it's just putting one foot in front of another.  There's also my voice, the voice that I found through running, reminding me that it's really not a competition, and there's no reason to try to be anything other than what I am.  I don't have to race, I don't have to run a set number of miles per week - I can just run.

The fear is heavy today.  Fear that I will give up, like I've given up everything else in my life, just quit, and walk away.  Fear, too, of disappointing people even if I don't give up - fear that I'll never quite measure up.  I want to scream, because I know that it doesn't really matter what anyone else says, or thinks - that it only matters that I do what is right for myself, that I do what I can, as best as I can.

I really wish I had gone running yesterday.

Picture This

Starting a running blog while unable to run probably wasn't my smartest move ever.  We (that's the royal we) are in week 6 of not running, and having a pretty darn boring blog.  My apologies.  Today in an effort to not whine about not running, I present you with two pictures.   The first sums up what my life has been like for the past 5+ weeks.   The second is representative of what's wrong with this lovely country of ours (in my humble yet loud opinion).

First Picture: 

When you have 6 medicine measuring cups on the window sill above your sink, it's fairly safe to say that your life is not exactly a roaring good time.   Unless, of course, you're using said medicine in an unlawful way (but then why would you bother with the measuring cups?). 

Second picture:

While shopping at the mall today, I stopped to get a Dr. Pepper, which is basically my one addiction in life, besides running (and shopping).  I asked for a small, and was handed that cup.  If you can't quite see, on the bottom it's printed that the cup holds 32 oz.  THIRTY TWO OUNCES.  I balked and said to the kid behind the counter "That's a SMALL?"  His response "Well, no, but all drinks are the same price."   Oh, right, well that makes sense.  Not.  *eye roll*   I ended up drinking about half of it.  What in the world?  Am I the only one who is turned off by the huge cups everywhere? Do you remember what a small soda used to look like? When did we all decide that bigger was better, in calories and everything else? Bah humbug. 

And now that I've got my grumpy face on, I'll leave you with something that I found cheerful today.  For your viewing pleasure, I present you with...   Marathon Thoughts.  

Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my!

I feel like I've been in OZ for the past 5 weeks - or dropped down a rabbit hole somewhere.  Being sick for so long, I really feel as if I've lost time.  My daughter's 4th birthday party is in two weeks and I've done no planning.  We're flying to visit my parents next month and I have yet to get a rental car.  I have a 10 mile race coming up and I'm feeling bewildered as to how I'm going to run it, considering I've been a giant couch potato for the past month.

But.  On the bright side.  I'm feeling better - at last - and I'm hoping that the antibiotics I was finally given have kicked this thing (cough, bronchitis, whatever the heck it was) in the butt, and that I can move on with my life, instead of staying in this stagnant hole that I've been in for weeks on end.  

So, I'm dusting myself off and declaring sick time over.  It's time that I get back to the land of the living and stop being so pathetic and "woe is me."

Of course, it's supposed to snow all weekend.  How's that for my running come back? *grumble grumble*  That's ok.  I have socks that declare me to be a Bad Ass.  I can run in snow after being out with bronchitis for 5 weeks, right?

Errr... maybe I'll hit the gym and reacquaint myself with the treadmill.  Either way.  Up and running.