How not to quit
Subtitle: There's a difference between "You've got this" and "Do you want this?" and I'm there.
I want to quit.
Not because it's hard, or long, or my hip because that's doing just fine, but because I don't want to anymore.
I love to run, it is the most freeing feeling in the entire world but I have learned in this that marathons are not for me.
Marathon training has made me hate something I love and for that I have begun to resent it.
Now, I'm not quitting, I always finish what I start, always, I am too type-A not to, but I am hating every second of it. See, great ideas used to come to me running, but now I just want it to be over because it is so long and takes so damn long that I can't even think about Daniel & Adrienne.
This, in turn, is adding to my general pissy mood. Every day I am stressing about my long run on Sunday, every day, and every day I lash out at people or don't want to talk to someone because there is this arrogant part of me that see people doing shit like watching frakkin' Stargate actors panels on YouTube all day and I'm thinking, I'm SOOO sorry that I have to work, raise my kids, do scouts, acknowledge that I'm married, be there for my friends and family, oh and yeah, I'm training for a marathon, I WISH I had the time to troll YouTube.
It's not helping that the weather is getting colder. I joke about moving to Canada, but to live anywhere north of Virginia the amount of anti-depressants needed to function would be more than my family could afford.
So I sit here, watching the time pass on to quitting time, knowing that I need to go run five miles, nothing for me at this point, I don't even use the GPS for it, I have the route memorized and I am searching for any excuse that I can to not run.
The hip did SOOO well, do I really want to hurt it again?
Could I bike and watch Supernatural?
I'm sick of my music and need to download more first.
But there's this little nagging voice...
Everyone is counting on you...
You don't wanna be the fat girl again....
The depression you feel now will go away because of endorphins...
So, am I gonna run?
Yep, I am. I'm already heading downstairs now, typing one handed on my way to get my clothes.
Do I want to?
Will it make me feel better?
Why do we care?
You guys always tell me the sweetest things and I want you to know that my life and everything is not perfect, in fact, far from. There are days that I question that I did any of this, changing my stars, staying alive, and days like those are the ones that I have to make the effort to get up and do it.
Every thing we do in our lives, every choice we make, leads to a consequence. No, I don't have to run a marathon and I know that my friends wouldn't think twice if I said, I'm sorry, but I just can't, but I will.
I will because there are people who can't, and I want to for them.
I will because there are people who think they can't, and they can, so I want to do it for them.
I will because there are people who may have not stepped one foot to pavement for me in this quest but might as well have already run the race for me. I want to do it for them.
Gotta go, the road calls.
24 days remain.