Bad idea. Never depend on a workout partner until you know they are true to their word. My friend bailed on the running plan and by the time I finished everything I needed to do, it was dark out. Deciding not to spend the next two hours of my evening on a treadmill, I went home, turned on the television and ate a chocolate bar.
When I feel poorly about myself, I turn to chocolate bars and Juanita's tortilla chips. Because obviously, if I'm feeling poorly about being fat from not working out, I might as well add on to the self-pity with a bag of salty triangles.
The next morning, I vowed to run my missed workout from the day prior, but somehow the day got away from me and all three of my workouts were never started. Instead, I ate 3/4ths a bag of tortilla chips while sitting in my bathtub feeling sorry for myself.
Tuesday. A new day. My feet had a difficult time slipping out from under the covers. Lyla Bear was curled up next to me on the bed and I could tell she had no intention of waking anytime in the near future. We cuddled for a little bit with daydreams streaming through our heads until I finally convinced myself to get out in the sunshine.
Nine miles on a forest road. That's all I had in me. But I was glad I broke my no exercise depression.
Yesterday, I still felt off. After Optimal Core Performance, Amy and I decided to run up to the top of Black Butte. My legs felt weak; I wasn't sure if it was from lack of exercise or if it was residual tiredness from the overtraining last week. I was so thankful Amy got my butt out though. It felt nice to be outside with a friend. You can't turn around early when someone else is there expecting you to keep going.
My great friend Parker, who was All American in cross country this year, is leaving for Thailand in two days. Every time I talk with Parker, I feel instantly rejuvenated. He has been in town for the past week and has been trying to get together, but I keep turning him down. Most of it was due to business, but a big reason I wasn't making an effort to see him was because I felt so poorly about myself. I didn't want to see him for an hour and spend the entire time trying to force a smile and pretend like everything was okay. But I did it anyway. I cancelled my bike and my swim, which I was really anxious about, to go sit in his backyard and reflect on life over a glass of water.
As my walls broke down and I opened up to someone for the first time about how I've been feeling, I felt this huge stone lift from my heart. I have been holding so much back and haven't wanted to burden anyone with my anxiety, stress and feelings of disappointment.
I think exercise is a huge anti-depressant for me. Having children scares me because it means a hiatus from exercise. Getting injured again frightens me for the same reason. The impact an hour of cardio a day has on my mood amazes me.
After three days of deep sorrow, I am so thankful that I was able to shake it off and get back to my routine. The lesson I learned from this is not to be scared to show people your weakness. It helps to let the tears flow; in fact, it is healthy for you. Also, don't fret about a missed workout. You can always make up for it later. But don't turn to a bag of Juanita's for redemption. They never satisfy the way you hope they will.
