After deciding on Wednesday to rest for a week or so, I battled feeling as if I'd given up. See, for me running isn't just running. It's that thing I could never do. So stopping felt a lot like failure.
I have failed at weight loss before. What I know about nutrition and exercise could fill a book. That said, this go round, an older, wiser me has decided that I have to do this for life. Which means that I have to love it: from the food I'm eating to the exercise that's burning fat, I have to love it, at least at first, to make this enough of a habit for a lifestyle change. And my lifestyle, pretty healthy in most ways, has to change. It's uncomfortable.
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| {dress, slip- robert rodriguez} |
I have punished myself with diet and exercise for years. I very likely was on the fringes of an eating disorder, and most certainly had a miserable relationship with food. Feeling passionate about exercise has made my relationship with food secondary, allowing me to truly, truly feel as if this whole journey is about health. I believe continued weight loss will come once I put all of the parts together.
I'm stressed. Work is overwhelming and there are lots of puzzles with this research I' haven't figured out yet. I couldn't add being a quitter to that too.
So this morning, I ran. I stretched for nearly an hour first, and then I ran. It was like those early days of running: energy. exhilaration. boundary- pushing. And even though I ran (much) slower, I finished without pain.
Whew.
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| {shoes, accessories- anthro} |
happy, happy, happy weekending,
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