If it’s not one thing, it’s another

Is janky a word? It feels right for how my body felt as I glided into a slow jog yesterday, one week after surgery and very little physical activity. (Sunday, we walked the dogs and I had to lay down for 45 minutes after. Monday, we walked around in Tom Brown and I felt fine.) My bones clicked and creaked upon each other but my heart and lungs were champs about it. I managed two miles but then my right incision felt like it was pulling. It screamed at me to stop so I cut the run short. But Lord, being out there on the path, working my entire body in that freeing manner, was just so awesome. As much as I tried to hold onto the last remaining hours of NO RUNNING, I really appreciated the act once I was doing it.

So now I am mentally conflicted. I don’t WANNA run, I whine. But I know I must and I will and I’ll just accept it because I committed to the marathon and if I don’t, this baby belly fat will NEVER go away. There’s no reward without the hard work before it – I KNOW this – but hate to think about all those runs ahead of me that will inevitably suck at times and take up my Sunday mornings and… and… it’s all just too much!

The upside to all this is a.) weight loss, b.) justification of eating what I want, and c.) Football Sundays. I know now why Ash loved them so much when he was training: you kick your ass from 5:30 AM until your long-ass run is over and then you sit on the couch for the rest of the afternoon and just watch football. Added bonus: fantasy implications. I love fantasy football and I really like my team this season. I’m stoked!

That’s pretty much where this post ends; I have no clever way to tie this together or any more observations. I am in a holding pattern right now but there is Fall in the not too distant future and pumpkin spice lattes and leaves and pumpkins soon… SOON.



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