All the training I did in the past year nearly unraveled. I stuff myself with excess calories, I lost motivation to go run, and my thoughts turned negative.
I ate at Chipotle on Sunday, Portillo’s on Monday, and tried Five Guys on Tuesday. I gorged on food to fill something in me and replace the negative feelings I’ve been feeling. Dining at food joints like these isn’t bad if it’s once a week or less. I consumed a lot of calories. I’m sure I gained weight.
Running as therapy is a Catch-22. It makes me feel more positive. My thinking becomes more clear. However, I need to be somewhat motivated to run. The obstacles of winter running are easy excuses to postpone running until the next day. Dark descends early. It’s easy to get lost in the woods past dark. Road running at night is a scary proposition in the Chicago suburb I reside in. I can’t find my cold running gear to run in. I didn’t sleep well and woke up plate. It’s always something. When I’m in a negative mood, I find it hard to go out and run. The lack of running pushes me down further. I managed to run in the woods on Wednesday. I didn’t get out of bed early enough to run.
I spiraled downwards and caught myself today before school. I had a bad mantra repeating in my head. My breathing was shallow. I became anxious. I ate more food. The pathological critic started bashing me. I worked through it and went to class. If I didn’t, I’d still be falling.
Tomorrow is a new day. I’m alive and breathing. It’s the first day of the rest of my life.