“Now is the time for guts and guile.” ~Elizabeth Taylor
I feel like I should preface this post with saying I haven’t given up. I realize that I need to say that to myself more than I need to say it to anyone else, but really, I promise, I haven’t given up. I completed my third 5k on Sunday. Did I run the whole thing? Nope. Did I run a majority of it? Nope. Did I run some of it? Yep. And on that day, that was good enough for me.
Have I been running since Sunday? Nope. Have I been active at all since Sunday? Nope. Have I been eating the best I could over the past couple weeks? Nope. I could be doing better. I should be doing better. I know how to be doing better. And yet I’m not. I’m fucking not. And I have no excuses whatsoever. I’m just not.
I could blame this on the excruciating pain that my plantar fasciitis has been causing me. But really, that’s bull. Yes, my foot is killing me and at time it just hurts to stand, but what am I doing to make it better? Am I doing the stretches I should be doing? No. Am I doing anything to help or prevent the pain at all besides taking some tylenol? No.
I could blame the fact that it’s because I’m trying to spend more time with my family, but that’s bull too. I am trying to spend more time with them, but I need to realize it’s quality over quantity and if I’m not all there and my mind is someplace else anyway, what’s the point.
I could blame it on the fact that I’ve been a little depressed lately. New birth control plus a return of insomnia does not a happy person make.
And you’d think identifying the problem would be enough to get my butt into action. But nope. Not me. Instead I complain. And yell. And act sullen. You know, the mature 33 year old thing to do. I’ve done such a good job my whole life putting all the blame on other people that I’ve seemingly let myself off the hook.
But not anymore. It is time to take charge. I ordered some anti-steroid cream and a night brace. I will do my stretches twice a day and ice my foot twice a day. I will make time, quality time, to spend with my family, while also leaving time for me. I will stop making excuses. Bad decisions are exactly that…decisions. I have no one to blame for all of the ones I have made, except myself. I can continue to dwell on them or I reflect, learn, move on and hope I don’t make the same ones again.
I will stop complaining. I will get back on track. I will get through this. I have come too far to give up now.
100 Mile Challenge Miles: 33.8
Pounds lost since starting 100 Miles Challenge: 8.2 pounds