All day today I had two specific blog posts that I wanted to write – one for tonight, one for tomorrow.
In order to write both of said posts, I “needed” to complete a second workout for the day at the WREC. The time I had allotted for a HIIT treadmill run and leg routine arrived a minute or two past the four o’clock hour. I sauntered to my car to grab the hot pink bag stuffed with gear for workout #2; apparently, the spunk in my step I normally have when my running shoes are laced with excitement about exercising wasn’t packed with the rest of my obnoxiously bright attire.
I’m pointing my finger at the fact that I began my day again all too early with a 4-mile run around my neighborhood, consumed all too much caffeine, and then proceeded to plow through my Tuesday schedule that passed as slow as molasses.
Why was I planning a “double day” anyway? Didn’t I create this training plan — a vague set of guidelines to keep myself “up to par” for the five weeks before my race? Yes, it was me. There was no necessity for a double day, except…
Last night, I found myself with saline on the verge of spilling onto my freckled cheeks because I had only run 1 mile yesterday (along with a side of strength training) after my PDR Sunday. SkinnyRunner ran a full marathon Sunday and 15+ miles Monday. Comparing myself to another. #guiltyascharged
My mother listened to me patiently through the telephone as I spewed my discontent with myself, for not doing enough… enough for what!?… enough for who!?
Was I really going to let myself belittle my effort Sunday of persevering through rainy winter weather, a chaffed bra line and finicky satellite watch to run farther than I’ve ever run before… with nothing – or no one – to encourage me to keep taking one step after another other than me, myself and I?
My mind was strong Sunday, so why on Earth could it succumb to such weakness in allowing someone else’s accomplishments smash the commitment it has put on the pavement after all the miles?
I received a comment today in regards to my post about my final college semester that read: “I love when you write about personal/college posts!”
edited completely revised my original post idea to make it personal by telling you all – in my utmost vulnerability – that I’m fighting a battle against myself of being enough.
My body is deserving of more merit than it ever receives from me, its toughest critic. It deserves to love every inch of flesh that sticks to the tree-embellished yoga mat; it deserves dark chocolate and lattes just because, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t deserve to embrace its larger, defined thigh muscles showcased in magenta compression shorts.
Please learn from my mistake. Use the fitspiration of other women to make you stronger; do not let anyone, and more prominently yourself, depreciate the steps you’ve taken in making the best recipe of yourself. Feel free to add ingredients to your self recipe, and be permissive in removing those that haven’t worked through trial and error.
I’ll tell you a little secret… the key ingredient you need in a recipe for being enough is self love.
Shall we go to the store and stock up? ;)