Every day I solemnly vow to myself (and occasionally my husband) that I will be better than yesterday. Don’t get me wrong, I’m absolutely killing it compared to September and before. I’m just not going as strong as I was in October. I’m not as enthusiastic about logging, and not as interested in cooking. My gym buddy is out of town, and I’m finding it hard to motivate myself to go alone. After my initial bout of success with the Get Running app, I’ve started to regress towards the level of my first attempts (possibly because I’m not psychologically ready to start the next week and ramp up in difficulty).
Today I tried to do a run. When I got to the park, I saw what I at first thought was someone on a bike going around the field. It was actually two women running. Or, rather, a woman and a teen. They would jog most of the lap, but sprint in a certain section. They looked so happy and beautiful. I was immediately jealous. What would I be like today if I had learned to love running as a teenager? I decided to walk until they left, so that they wouldn’t see my sad little jog. Even so, I felt like an escaped character from the Ministry of Silly Walks, with my over pronation and the fact that my knee occasionally half-way buckles while I walk. They kept going around and around, and I wanted to just stare at them the whole time. By the time they left, I’d been spending so much time thinking about how weird my walk is and trying to figure out how to walk normally, my ankles we starting to feel weird. I did two one-minute runs out of the eight I was supposed to do, but lost heart. My shins hurt. Why does it seem to be getting harder again?
Tomorrow I must go to the gym and really work. Tomorrow I must truly start the 21 day fix, and stay with it throughout the entire day. On Friday I will have a new gym buddy. This new buddy is less conveniently located, but maybe that’s for the best. I don’t think I’ll want to drive 20 minutes just to wimp out.
Someday I will look as happy and beautiful as the running women. And I hope that someday I will run with a daughter or a son of my own.