So it begins. In some way I am relieved that I had a hard yesterday during my run, because things had gone so well I was having a hard time why I ever had a hard time getting my butt in gear. Yesterday was a run only in concept because I was really hurting. My head was pounding, I had cramps in my kidneys and my legs felt like 3 ton weights. Every step I took was incredibly laborious and I just did not have a drop of energy. At one point I had to sit down because I felt like I was going to be sick. This was only a three mile run people. However, the physical discomfort was not the worse part. The worse part was that my internal asshole kicked in full gear raking me over the coals for sucking so badly. "Why did I think I could run, don't I remember how much I suck?" "You are such a baby and this is all in your head, you are just making excuses to not run" Every step I took was not about the effort but about the disappointment and failure.
I get back from my run wiped out, dizzy shaking and I completely mentally destroyed. I tried to hold on to the pride that I got out there and ran rather than staying on the couch or coming up with excuses. Even though it was a hard run, overall pushing my body would build strength and I would get better. It took everything I had to shake myself out of defeat and despair. If I have enough of those type runs, it gets hard to face miles of my internal dialog about how I am not good enough and how I suck. I need to start appreciating my effort, the fact I face the challenge rather than backing away and some how find enough space in my mind to accept myself. I need to tell my inner asshole who is running this ship and make sure that this time it does not win over my ability to reach my goals.
The other thing I noticed yesterday that I know will be a challenge going forward is that everything starts to feel like real work. I am doing the things that need to be done and getting back on track and my inner party girl is pouting big time. I have flashes of desire to screw it all and have a good meal, a good bottle of wine...hell why stop there? It is a common reaction for me when getting back on my plan because it is just not as fun as the debauchery and ease of doing whatever I want. Sleeping late, drinking heavy, gorgeous food - I gave up for running, swimming, yoga, meditation and a good diet. My resolve often weakens and I end up rewarding myself right back into my old behavior. The thing I have to keep telling myself is that the debauchery feeds my inner asshole as I seem to use all of that fun to build a strong case against my fat ass about how lazy, overweight, and undisciplined I am. All that fun is not without cost. I am going to try to pay attention to the dialog that complains that I am not having enough fun and keep an eye on my end goal. I do not want to be where I have been for the last year and that is going to mean a fairly radical shift in my behavior and some habits...well they die hard.
On one small up note, last night I told my story at my last Storytelling class and I think it went pretty well. I would actually like to do a story at a Story Jam but I do not think I will get up the courage and with time it will disappear into to the folds of my memory. However, last night I stood in front of a group of people and told a pretty entertaining story and they seemed to enjoy it and most of all I really enjoyed doing it. Small successes. I need a few more of those type times in my life to keep the balance.
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