I’m pretty sure I am in a life-long
battle with exercise. I have never cared much for it. Therefore instead of
consistency, I find myself with an on-again off-again love/hate relationship.
The cycle is almost always the
same. I get fed up with my out-of-shape self. I start jogging – slow and ugly –
but I push through hating every minute of it. I have a breakthrough and find a
good groove. This phase is almost always accompanied by a challenge and some
accountability. Then comes the getting comfortable and letting life get in the
way. And life, with all its excuses, slowly steals running time. Before I know
it, weeks or months have passed and I haven’t hit the pavement once! And the
frustration begins again.
Why do I do this to myself???
I am disgusted with myself because some
of my running buddies that started 2013 with the same running challenge as I
did, finished a marathon this past weekend and I am starting over again! I am
really tired of feeling stupid telling people I like to run, because I most
definitely don’t look like a runner. It is my own fault and only I can do
something about it.
So tonight it was too late when I
finally arrived home, it was way too cold and it was already dark. I didn’t
feel like it and I wasn’t sure I was ready to commit once again. But somehow
the small, beaten-down runner inside won out. Today I started AGAIN. I’m really
hoping she wins again tomorrow too.
As I was slowly, huffing and
puffing through my first back-on-the-bandwagon run I decided – for me, it might
not be about the victories, like crossing the finish line of a marathon.
(Although, I really hope I will do that someday) For me, for this season, it is
about starting over as many times as it takes. It is about getting back out
there just one more time, until one day it is habit.
I am the only one that can do the
work. So today I started again, again…