Trying to psych myself up.
It was just about 2 years I finished couch to 5k on this thing.
Sure, I've used it in a pinch, but now I have to psych myself up to use the
dreadmill treadmill with kindle books (1Q84 from the library in case you're curious), snacks, music and creating odd Rorschach-like images with the black spots in the basement walls. Not mold, I swear, just blotchy things in the cement.
Where was I? Oh yeah, the basement.
So I am trying to build my base miles back up again and committed to 8 miles today. But the bed was so warm this morning, Isabella was so cuddly, the wind was so whistly - yeah, I found our garbage lid in the front yard....6 houses down - I had a gazillion reasons why I didn't want to run.
But then I remember why I did want to run.
Because I like myself more when I run.
I'm a better mom. A better wife. A better person. A better me.
Call it self care, call it addiction to that feeling, that runners high or the personal goal or the team goal to rack up the miles with friends or that feeling of dang! I ran!
Oh yeah, I the reasons I said and....I really can't afford to buy new pants.
So, tonight, I made the decision to run and I did.
Just before Isabella fell asleep she gasped: "Mama, your run! You didn't run today!" I can't wait to tell her when she wakes up I ran.