Monday was one of those days...
There was nothing wrong, exactly, but I did not feel right.
I was teetering on the brink of a "poor me" session.
Poor me because houses don't magically clean themselves...
...bills pile up no matter what you do
...life throws you curveballs in the form of phantom bedbugs
...your loving partner can sometimes drive you crazy
...things just aren't "easy" because you want them to be
...and being a grown up can really be no fun at all, some days, but you know you should be grateful for all you have and all you can do, and you feel guilty for being such a baby.
I climbed on to my treadmill at the gym nonetheless for a lackluster walking session. As I moped along, a figure appeared in the corner of my eye: a stranger, just another person doing her thing, except her thing was running on the treadmill.
She bounced along, ponytail swinging.
I wanted to run too. But the excuses came ...
...I don't have the right sneakers
...I'm not wearing the right clothes
...My knees can't take it
But then I decided that day -- right then -- was the time. I knew all the reasons why not to do it, but there was also a very good reason to do it: because I can. I can do it.
So I ramped it up (gently), and started picking up the feet. And I jogged, and I kept jogging, and in the end, it was a 40 minute gentle run, just about three miles. Slow and steady.
I'm going careful because of the knees. I did nothing more than a gentle walk the day after, on Tuesday, to avoid strain (I had to ice a lot Monday night). But folks, inside my heart is the voice of Forrest Gump:
"From then on, anywhere I went, I. WAS. RUNNIN!"
Eating update: lunch out Tuesday was phenomenal, salade nicoise, no potatoes, one half slice bread, dressing on the side, no drinks, just water and iced coffee. Later, cottage cheese and raspberries to keep hunger at bay, and dinner out was also pretty good, a small slice of goat cheese/tomato appetizer with salad on side and sea scallops on pasta (small amount of pasta) and a shared blueberry tart for dessert. It was a lovely French restaurant, invite from friends from France, and the restaurant has a new thing that I really like: on the menu for entrees you can ask for a regular size entree or a small plate entree (more like an appetizer size). Isn't that smart?
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