Last night I ran for 30 minutes at 8k an hour. I was happy, very happy. Tonight I did a repeat performance at 9k an hour. Oh baby it makes me feel good to run.
My mantra as I pushed my body was “I can; I will!” I can do it, I will do it! I can run, I will run! I can finish, I will finish! And when that didn’t work I thought to myself “I am a 12wbter, I try, I do not give up, I do the best I can, I am being the best I can be”. And when that wasn’t doing any good I thought “Michelle Bridges is my trainer and she expects my best” and then back to “I can; I will”.
It is amazing what your body can do if you convince it that it can.
Tonight, after I ran, I did a combat class and then I ran some more! Well until I hurt my ankle which is a shame because I picked the treadmill option to make sure that I dont hurt myself. Blah. I am not young I guess and my joints are a little dodgy!
Nonetheless I think I was born to run but I have come about this knowledge so bloody late! Bummer. Just imagine if I had known I would love to run at a younger age! How much different might my life have been.
My counsellor wants me to do activities that make me feel good. Running does. It really does. She gave me a list of over a hundred things to choice from and I have to pick a couple. You would think with so much choice I could find something I wanted to do that would make me happy. Like all the things I used to do like craft and gardening. Now everything seems like a chore and the thought of reading a book and/or relaxing stresses me BUT running doesn’t.
Being told I couldn’t run was bloody awful but having a doctor that would rather see me running and happy than miserable is a good thing. Run Ruth he said and so I do.
