Sweat Therapy

You’ve probably seen the popular car magnet “Running Is Cheaper Than Therapy”.  I’ve paid for a lot of therapy sessions, so I can confirm that this is indeed true.  I like to think of this blog as a compilation of sweat therapy sessions designed to extract the meaning of life from my daily practice of running.  In other words, reflections of a running psycho.

I’m ok with being psycho.  It works for me.  My husband lovingly refers to me as ‘crazy lady’, which is a pretty accurate description of my mental state when denied my daily run.  I had to take a pretty significant running break this past September when my shins started acting up.  There may have been a few meltdowns involved.  Eventually I accepted reality, and as I mentioned in my previous post, I switched my Richmond Marathon registration to the half marathon, knowing I’d have a better chance of survival.

Now the half marathon is two weeks away, and though I’ve been the queen of consistency lately, my mileage going into this race is lower than I’d hoped.  I’m grateful to be participating, but disappointed that I am not running the full marathon anymore.  Ok, I might have cried watching the NYC marathon on TV this weekend, but it was during the last five miles, and as every marathoner knows, it’s ok to cry during that part.  I guess I’m a little emotional, but this mini-failure has taught me a powerful lesson called delayed gratification.  Marathon #7 will have to wait until spring.  So will my ego.

half fanatic

Repeat After Me…’I Love Half Marathons!’

I’m waiting on a few other things these days.  Goals I think I want quite a bit, but am either not ready for, not entitled to, or just plain not in need of.  I guess my life is a lot like my shins, and when I throw too much at myself, I have to shut down, regroup, and start over.  I suppose this month I will not be able to downsize, go zero waste, move to the beach, eat 100% vegan, run my marathon PR, and sign up for my first ultra, which must be located in some breathtaking European mountain range.  Maybe next month, or maybe after a little more sweat therapy, I’ll move a little bit closer to reasonable.  One mile at a time.

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