onepinkfuzzy

So much happened today that I'm not really sure where to start.

Mark wrote a comment to my last post that really struck a chord with me. He said, "Of all the good things that happen yesterday, you had to dig through your training log to find that ONE negative and then harp on that? Why would you rob yourself of the satisfaction of running your best time ever in a 5k?"

That's exactly what I wanted to know.

So I thought about it and thought about it today. I woke up in a horrible mood, totally cranky and shut down. Johnny took Ash to his grandmother's as planned, but I was in no mood to run. We talked about it for 30 minutes, while I alternated between putting my running clothes on and taking them off. I managed to get my camelback full of water and my gels, but ended up back in bed. I laid there and cried. I cried about not being faster yesterday. I cried about not wanting to get up and run this morning. I cried about not having the body I want. I cried about wanting to eat fatty foods. I cried about wanting to binge and cram as much food in my mouth as I could. I cried about letting Johnny down. I cried because I felt like I never wanted to run again. Ever. All those running clothes - all that money - gone to waste. I cried because I thought I wasn't a runner, who was I kidding? I cried because I wanted to crawl into a shell forever.

Johnny came in and laid down beside me. He spoke of taking it easy, of relaxing. Of how it was a beautiful morning, and he wanted to enjoy it with me - by going to breakfast. He said we haven't had a chance to just relax and enjoy a Sunday morning in ages, and he wanted to enjoy me. He spoke of opportunities - how I have many opportunities to run, many opportunities to eat healthy. How I can't be perfect all the time. About how it's okay to take it easy. I cried because Johnny valued me, even as I was at my lowest, feeling so unworthy.

We went to IHOP, a restaurant I have avoided since being diagnosed with gallbladder disease. They have a low-fat menu now. But I did not order from the low-fat menu. I wanted country griddle cakes. So I got country griddle cakes. We sat in that diner for an hour and a half, talking about Johnny's school, Ash, Zane Grey. We spoke about the little minutae of life that we rarely have a chance to discuss.

I left IHOP feeling a little overfull (but I couldn't even clean my plate) and satisfied. While we perused a party store looking for pink fuzzy head boppers (I'm "Crew Pinky" for Olga and Johnny this upcoming weekend at Zane Grey), we discussed going for a run today after all. We decided we'd take Ash in the stroller out to a park.

Once we picked up Ash, he decided he didn't want to go to the park - he wanted to go to Sabino! I figured it'd be great heat training, and would be much more fun. A family outing to a creek on a day that felt like a beautiful summer day in the mountains. Nothing would be more gorgeous.

On the way to Sabino, I pondered my reaction to my pace at the 5k, and how I felt this morning. I finally figured out why I was feeling the way I was. Yesterday, after the race, I made a mistake. A mistake that had ramifications for Johnny that he felt embarressed about, and caused some angst on his part. It wasn't a big mistake, and it was an honest mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. I felt crushed by his reaction, which was a valid, understandable reaction. I want to emphasize that I'm not blaming Johnny for how I feel. I reacted to his reaction in a very deep, core way; the same way I reacted to my mother's reactions when I was a kid. If I did something that embarassed her, I felt horrible, wrong, like I was not worthy of anything. This is a deeply ingrained reaction in me, one I've tried so hard to overcome. I realized that seeking out the ONE negative thing about the race was my brain's way of trying to reinforce the idea that I was not worthy, that I was a bad person, that I wasn't good enough. All it took was a simple misunderstanding to trigger those deep emotions in me. I thought about how I needed to feel secure in my mistake - it was an honest mistake, one that I know I did not do intentionally. I know that it caused Johnny angst, and I am sorry about that. But I do not need to beat myself up over it. I needed to have empathy for myself, for being a human being, someone who is not, and never will be, perfect. I needed to get my confidence back, get centered, find my integrity and pink fuzzy and reinforce that I am worthy of living, of running, of love.

We arrived at Sabino, and I was delighted. The weather was warm, but windy. We started out at a quick clip, getting the first mile in at 11 minutes - quicker than my race last weekend. I slowed from there, and just enjoyed feeling my body move. I used an ITB compression band for the first time today, and was quite surprised at how well it worked. I had to pour water on my head about every half-mile to keep cool, and with how windy it was, my temperature was perfect!

Ash fell asleep quickly (thank goodness). I had to walk sections that I don't normally walk, due to the heat and recovering from yesterday's killer 5k (yes, I do think I did a great job!). But then, we got to stop number 8, part way up the last big hill. This hill climbs 350 feet in about three-quarters of a mile - nothing too bad, but it's a steady climb. I've never run the entire hill, only small sections of it. Johnny refilled our water bottles as I started the standard hike. But then he said, "think about running when I catch up to you." So I started jogging when he caught up. And didn't stop jogging all the way to the top. I saw a woman with a T-shirt that said, "Determination" on the back, and thought, "Damn straight." Once I got to the top, I ran the loop, then ran (yes, RAN) all the way to the bottom of the hill. On the way down, Johnny said he wanted more miles, so he'd run the hill once more while I waited with a sleeping Ash at the bottom. Then I thought, "Wait, why does he get to run more while I sit at the bottom waiting for him?" I told him he'd have to do the hill with the jogger again. He laughed and said, "Okay!"

We ran to the 3-mile mark, and turned around. This time, I started at the very bottom of the hill...and jogged all the way to the top. Again. The first time I ran "the hill," I ran it twice. Without stopping. Hill repeats, baby! We passed the "determination" woman again, and I let her know that her T-shirt helped me. Ash woke up on the way back down, ready to stop and play in the water. Perfect timing!

We enjoyed a dip in the pool at the base of Anderson dam at stop number 8, then jogged back out to the car. On the way home, I saw a Nico's Taco Shop sign, and wanted to stop. But I can't eat anything there, and after eating at IHOP this morning, knew that if I chose to eat anything there, I was asking for emergency gallbladder surgery. There was a McDonald's in the plaza, which Ash decided, very loudly, that he wanted for dinner. So we went through drive-through, and I ended up getting a grilled chicken sandwhich combo. The sandwhich isn't high it fat...but the french fries are. I couldn't stop myself from eating them. And then I couldn't stop myself from feeling horrible about myself again.

Thus, the cycle begins again. I am still struggling with it. I am so frustrated with feeling bad about my choices! I am so frustrated with seeking out the negative in my life, so I can beat myself up over it! I am so SICK of living like this. I HATE fighting this, every day. Every day! I am exhausted, I am worn out. I ran that (expletive deleted) hill at Sabino today - TWICE - and I am feeling this bad at the end of the day, AGAIN. Am I mad that I chose to eat the french fries? Or am I mad that I can't focus on the good? I want to crawl back into bed and cry. I hate trying to re-format my brain.

"Determination," that T-shirt really spoke to me today. I refuse to let the jackals in my head find all the "bad" in me, so I can beat myself up. I am worthy, dammit. I am worthy simply because I was born. The mere fact that I am alive makes me worthy of living, of life, of love, of running, of expression, of movement. I am worth it. I am alive. Me - my pink fuzzy, that beautiful representation of my essence - is a worth it. Worth living. Worth moving. Worth running. Even if I make a mistake. Even if I eat french fries. Even if I have a bad day. I am still worthy of care, worthy of love. I WILL love myself. I WILL take care of myself. I WILL show myself that I am worthy.

I WILL end this blog post, so I can watch Pride & Prejudice with my husband and relax. Namaste, and happy running.