I'm actually a-okay. Most of the depressio act is in jest. The heat gets me down, sure, but overall I'm fine. Okay, not totally fine. I'm cranky as hell. And running is NOT making me less cranky.
Something I hear people say all the time goes something like this: "I'm so glad I went out and ran! You only regret the runs you don't take!" Right. Because running is always better than not running. But is that true?
I love running, and I love running for the sake of running. I'm one of those weirdos who would keep running even if it didn't burn calories. Still, I've had a bad stretch of two weeks:
- Last week, I went to put my running clothes on one afternoon and got such an intense, chilling sense of foreboding that I promptly sat down on the couch with some ice cream instead. I'm not superstitious, and I wasn't trying to get out of my run. But this wasn't like anything I've experienced before.
- Then, this past Saturday, I had a run that was so bad that I honest to god ended up sitting on a park bench, crying. More on that later.
- And then, yesterday morning when I was all set to get up and run, I rolled over to turn my alarm off and immediately felt the crazy vertigo that sidelined me a few months ago. I walked around all day, tenderly, with my head pointed only in one direction.
I'm trying not to beat myself up too badly, but #emotracy likes to take over and she's an angry one. She beats herself up, she doesn't accept excuses (even when legitimate), and she likes wallowing.
She also needs to go, NOW. Pollyana Tracy has a marathon or two to train for.