stand a little taller.

Everyday is a battle. Every single day I fight with myself, I fight for all kinds of reasons. Right now I'm fighting myself to finish the breakfast that's sitting in front of me right now. I know I should eat it, but I just don't have any interest. I've been fighting my body this week, every step I take is a fight against giving in and taking a nap. I hurt all over, but I'm fighting the urge to take Tylenol. Mostly because I got myself in this IIH mess to begin with by ignoring the signs and masking the symptoms with pain killers. I wholeheartedly understand the idea that pain is a warning that something's wrong but I'm afraid I've taken it too far in embracing the constant feeling of pain. Now I fight with the idea of how much pain is too much?... I fight the urge to run more, to eat more, to sleep more, not entirely sure if these denials are for health reasons or because I feel like I don't deserve a break.

Everyday I fight.

Today I conceded a small victory to mother nature and her stupid laws of physics by taking 1000mg of Tylenol. I'm not going to lie, I feel so much better, but this worries me because I don't want to get in the habit of reaching for pills to get through the day.

I've become best friends with ace bandages, my rolling pin, and electric heating pad. The smell of muscle cream is oddly calming to me. Sometimes I feel like a fraud for identifying myself as a runner when I can only do 1-2 miles at a time, but the pain in my calves and my floor stretching ninja skills tell a different story.



I have to tell you all about yesterday. I'm beaming with pride.

After work I went to the gym (duh). I was waiting for my friend to come meet me (because she's supposed to be my workout buddy) but the last few months have been excuse after excuse after excuse as to why she can't do this or do that. Whatever, I'm so over this shit. I did my stretches, then warm up, then I set myself to running on the treadmill. Two things happened:

1. I realized the speed I've been running at is too slow. I am practically running on top of the monitor and I have to make conscious efforts to slow it down and take a few paces backwards. The reason I didn't increase in speed was becaaaaaause
2. I increased my distance! I've been running 1.00 mile + 0.25 mile cool down for the last couple of weeks, but my last few runs have been 1.25 mile + 0.25 cool down, and yesterday I took it alllll the way to 1.5 mile + 0.25 cool down. The truth is, I know I can run more, but I'm thinking long-term here so I'm taking it easy on the time/distance I spend on the treadmill so I don't run myself into an overuse injury (I'm already having enough soreness issues as it is).

The last time I trained for a 5k was in 2008 and I was in decent shape until I pushed myself too hard and ended up with a raging case of tendonitis. I would like to avoid similar injuries at all costs. After my run, I did 2.25 miles on the elliptical. It was brutal, but absolutely necessary. I feel like my legs hurt a lot less (and therefore I'm less inclined to go home and crash) if I incorporate a different post-run exercise. After the gym I went directly home to stretch, roll, and massage the soreness out of my legs. I planted myself on the couch with the heating pad until I got strong suggestions from boyfriend to make dinner (he's been having to cook for himself a lot lately and I think he resents me for that).

The problem I have with cooking these days is that I've largely cut out meat and so I pretty much only eat things raw, but boyfriend is die-hard carnivore and I have difficulties justifying the long and messy process of cooking just to meet his needs. [Yeah, I know... I'm selfish] Plus, I'm tired ALL THE TIME, last night being no exception. I had enough energy to toss some chicken tenders in bread crumbs and bake them, it was quick and simple and above all HEALTHY. And then I did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Can I get a WHOOOOAA PRODUCTIVITY! Naturally, after dinner I passed the fuck out. I didn't even shower... eeeeew.



Call me a condescending bitch if you must, but it makes me super sad to see overweight people who don't give two shits about their health. If anything, it just makes me so fuckin thankful that I got my wake-up call when I did.