Early birds, control, and fanny packs

6 Jul
I got my run in this morning even though I really wanted to stay in bed.  Chris came with me and dropped out early, but I’m so proud of him for getting up at 5:45 and doing it with me.  Baby steps.  I have been making it a point to get my runs done in the morning for the last couple of months, but we both decided we were really going to commit to that.  Now my alarm is set for 5:45, with the goal of moving it to 5:30.  I haven’t told Chris about this goal yet.  I don’t want to scare him.  Anyway, I decided not to go to the Refine class today after work.  Something doesn’t feel quite right with my left thigh.  It’s fine when I run, but I’ll turn ever so slightly and I get a sharp pain.  I’ve been stretching and foam rolling which has helped a lot. I’m certain it’s just a bit of a pull and nothing to be too worried about, but I’m not going to push myself.  Don’t think I don’t feel guilty or that I’m not obsessing about not going to class today though.  I am.
 
I know I’m way too hard on myself with respect to so many things.  Exercising, eating right, health, work, the state of my apartment (not good kids, not good), money, etc. I want to ease up, but I have no idea how.  I get afraid that if I relax a bit on exercise by not going to a class because I think I may injure myself, it will be a one way slippery slope to slothdom.  Don’t go to Refine on Friday, by Monday I’ll be on the couch in a muu muu, eating Bon Bons -do they still make Bon Bons?  Those were awesome- and having to be removed from my apartment by tearing down the building wall because they can’t get me out the door.  I’m not exaggerating.  This is a real fear of mine.  With my apartment, I think I’m one glass left on the coffee table away from being a subject on hoarders.  I don’t really restrict my food, I just try to eat healthy.  It’s not really hard for me- most of my favorite foods are healthy ones- broccoli, strawberries, fuji apples, peaches, oatmeal, quinoa, peanut butter.  But when I eat more than I usually do, I freak out a bit.  Does eating pizza today automatically lead to ordering a supersized #7 value meal at McDonald’s tomorrow?  Intellectually, of course I know that it doesn’t.  There’s just this part of me that doesn’t trust myself to stay in control. 
 
I need to realize that if I workout 5 out of 7 days, hard workouts to boot, that’s okay.  It’s okay to listen to my body if it needs a rest.  On days like today it’s telling me “hey I can’t do this.”  But most days?  It tells me “let’s go.”  I should be grateful for the majority of days when my body shows me how much it can handle, how much I can push it, and respect it enough to let it rest.
 
This weekend is going to be super hot (I sound like a broken record.  It’s July, Allison, It’s hot.  Deal).  I really want to get my miles in though.  I don’t want to use the heat as an excuse.  I also don’t want to die.  Overdramatic, yes, but I do worry about overheating or becoming dehydrated.  Shut up and carry a water bottle, you say?  I may.  But I hate holding a tiny little ipod nano  or a key in my hand while running.  Something tells me I’m not going to get very far carrying a waterbottle.  I’ll try to suck it up and deal.  I am a trooper.  Maybe I should invest in one of those snazzy water bottle belts.  I don’t know.  I think it bears too much of a resemblance to a fanny pack.  And I’m still trying to get over my childhood trauma of my dad’s love for the fanny pack and insistance on wearing it wherever we went.  I can’t even really call it childhood trauma since it lasted until about 5 years ago and only ended because no one, including my mom, would allow themselves to be seen with him wearing that thing.  So there you have it.  Another piece of the puzzle that is me.
 

I got my bib for the Belmar 5 last night.  My first though?  Oh shit now I really have to do this.  A tiny part of me was hoping it would get lost in the mail.  However, for the most part, I’m excited.  I can do this.  I will do this.  I’m not trying to win this thing, obviously, I just want to finish.  I set a goal for myself, I will achieve it, and then I will smile, be proud of myself, and eat a bagel.  Yes.  Next Saturday, I will be running towards a bagel.  Whatever works, right?

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