Week 3 is in the can. However, not without a serious episode of needing to get over my damn self already.
Last night I posted about not wanting to run and a long list of accompanying excuses. I figured I’d vent the negativity onto the blog and just go home and run.
And so many more excuses lines themselves up on the way home. Missed buses, increasingly bad weather, and then the final straw:
I grabbed my shorts out of the laundry, and despite the fact that I very carefully tied up the drawstring on them, it untied itself in the wash and was halfway pulled out. And with the level of clutter and nothing-having-a-home-ness around here, I had no idea where any tool to fix it would be.
I gave up.
I tried to console myself with a new oMop and by finally getting a lot of the cleaning up and laundry done (which included finding the mechanism by which to fix the aforementioned shorts – aka safetypin). The chores got done, but I didn’t feel any better.
Then I read all your comments. And I felt like a huge ass. So thank you to everyone who commented or emailed or otherwise nagged and cajoled me.
I needed a little Yoda-therapy: there is no try, only do.
But by the time I finally realized that, it was quite late. So I just continued to feel like a huge ass (with a huge ass) and tried to figure out when I’d run the next day.
To add insult to injury, the weather during the day today was the closest thing to beautiful I’ve seen around Raincouver for a long, long time.
So I got over myself and just did it – I played hooky from work for an hour this afternoon. (Can you still call it “hooky” if you get flex hours and can telecommute, and go back to working at home later?)
I came home, grabbed the dog, and ran. And it was lovely!
And once I got back, I made a smoothy and picked up the computer and looked outside and it had just started raining.