Roger has an appointment this afternoon (no biggie, just a quick shot) and we were crunched for time. As I was driving to the park to do my 5k training I felt guilty, because I knew that in order to give Roger the good gift of a decent nap I needed to cut my workout a little short. Normally for my long day, MWF, I walk a mile, then do the Couch to 5k training (about 30 minutes), and then walk another mile. It takes 75 minutes. My short days, T, Th, & Sat, are walking a mile, the training, then one extra 1/3 mile lap, which takes about 60 minutes.
Today I knew I only had time to do the C25K training. And, on that aforementioned drive, something in me was whispering that I was a failure, lazy, taking the easy way out because I was only doing the training today. But then once I was doing the workout I was remembering how last night, when I told the lovely gals in my community group that I exercise for at least an hour 6 days a week they all kind of gasped with awe, mentioning that it's a lot. And as I was running and realizing that, though it's still hard, I'm getting stronger, I remembered how I considered it "exercise" to go get the mail after Roger was born...literally a 20 second walk up a hill. Oof.
|Best workout buddy EVER|
Today I remembered last week's post, Why Not Me? and I realized that I'm kind of already past that question. It's becoming a fact, a reality. In just 10 days I already know that I am different. Going to exercise in the morning is already a part of our routine, something that I'll really miss if we can't go for a day. See, at the beginning of my drive I was feeling guilty about only being able to do 30 hard core minutes today. By the time I arrived (it's about a 3 minute drive) I was already thinking about how much I love going every morning, how sad I'll be the first time Rog and I have to miss a workout due to illness or the like.
Something in me today just broke. I'm realizing how much I have believed that I'm not worth...well, anything. I don't believe I'm beautiful. I don't believe I'm worthy of love. I push people away, I push Jesus away, I push my husband away, because it feels safer to believe I'm worthless than to actually believe Jesus that he chose me, he loves me, and he gets the glory when I pursue greatness and, by his grace, achieve it. I knew that I no longer have to question if I can be someone who goes from pushing 400 pounds to being the woman whose kids have to try to keep up with her at the park. I'm on my way there, and as one friend said, it's not that my "inner athlete" is emerging. I'm already an athlete, getting said competitor into better shape with every choice I make.
I wrote the vast majority of this post yesterday, but due to the hectic ways of the day I wasn't able to post it. And today I have to cleave to Jesus to believe it's all still true, because something is just off with Roger and myself. There are no cold or flu symptoms but I'm EXHAUSTED, so tired it hurts to have my eyes open (yes, I have been sleeping fine at night and no I'm definitely not pregnant), and I feel dizzy and kind of weak now and then. Roger isn't quite as happy and playful as normal, isn't sleeping as well as he has been, and is just kind of "off." He's been that way for a few days, but he's also hungry more than normal so I figure it's some growth related thing. Suffice it to say that this morning, instead of training, Roger and I both napped in our respective beds and I'm trying to take it easy this afternoon.
It's hard. Part of me knows I need rest. For one, my right knee was really bothering me yesterday and already it's feeling better today, so the rest was probably good for it. Plus, I needed that 45 minute nap--I could stand another one but don't want to mess up tonight's sleep. On the other hand, there's fear creeping in. I know tomorrow will be busy busy busy (I have a car appt and a me appt in Ballard, which will pretty much be my entire afternoon; add in a needed Target trip and I'll basically be on the go nonstop all day until I pick Jason up from work) and I know that it will be tough to fit in just training without the extra laps, similar to yesterday. Saturday is busy because it's my birthday weekend and we have plans to celebrate as a family on Saturday, all day, and then Sunday is my actual birthday with morning church (not normal, but long story I don't have the energy to tell) and my next real, good workout opportunity is Monday. I was really counting on a good 75, possibly 90, minute workout today.
The fear is that this is it, where I fail. Where I just don't work out again, end the routine, eat like a maniac, and wake up 400 pounds in a week or two. Yes, utterly irrational. I know that. But there is the opportunity not just to fear, but to follow fear and finally fail (alliteration unintentional but effective, I suppose). I must cling to Jesus--the truth is that I am his, I get to take each day one day at a time and failure is only an option if I choose it. I get to choose to remember that victory that started overtaking me yesterday and realize that God already knew that today would turn out this way, it's not catching him off guard, and he cares most of all about my heart and would love to work through all of this fear, making it his burden to carry for me.
I already feel better. Putting this "out there" is kind of scary, but it's good. And now I shall find grace in praying Roger has a long nap and lets me watch a good chunk of The Sing-Off and simply resting :)