They`re not all good days. For every day where I`m all "Rah rah, I`m a runner, I can do anything! Protein! Stretching! Breathing exercises! Fuck your fear, like they say in improv! I`m a freaking hero!", there are ten where the inner monologue is darker. I`m too fat, too old, too tired. No one will donate, my writing is boring and contrived, I should just stop. Buy some ice cream. Have a cigarette. Stop kidding myself and accept the reality of who I am. I can`t change. Can`t make a difference. My knees hurt.
This is one of those days.
I`ve missed 2 runs in a row. A solo on Thursday, and the team run on Saturday. Right now I`m at home, in my room, watching Law and Order with a belly full of leftover Chinese food. If I stay here, I lose. I lose another day of training, more momentum, and a little more of my self-respect. In this scenario, who wins? My fear wins.
Fuck my fear.
Has anyone seen my sneakers?
One girl's attempt to run away from her problems. Oh, and to save the world.
It's going to be ok. I'm proud of you Rachel!
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