Bought me some new running shoes today. I had a gift card my friends gave me on my 40th birthday - yes, that would be when I was pregnant with X.
I finally decided, on the two year anniversary of running my last marathon, it was time to get new shoes.
I hope they will propel me to new heights of motivation. Because right now? It's lacking. Sorely lacking. I can't seem to get on any schedule. X can't decide what time he wants to get up (anywhere from 5:45-6:50 a.m.). And then he wants to nurse.
That's right. He's not weaned yet. Judge away.
The lack of routine is killing me. I used to meet with a running group three times a week at 5:30 a.m. Then I'd do a spin class the other two days at 5:45. Saturdays, I'd do my long run with my running partners at 7.
I'm supposed to meet them next Saturday to run a little of their 12 miler. They wondered if I could join them for six. That would be a no. The most I've run since having X is four. I might be okay to squeeze out five miles before collapsing. We'll see.
Thing is, I'm in a bit of a slump. I'm having a tough time falling asleep at night, even though I feel exhausted during the day. I know exercise will make me feel better, and yet...
It's the old Funk conundrum: I know getting my ass out for a run would make me feel so much better, but I can't seem to do it.
I'm considering signing up for a half-marathon to force myself to train. But what if that isn't enough? I'd just beat myself up for not doing it and wasting the money. And that? That would suck.
I miss it. I miss being strong enough to run 10, 12, 16 miles. I miss being physically spent and exhilarated at the same time. I miss the feeling of pavement hard under my feet. Of a good sweat that leaves my skin caked with salt like the rim of a margarita glass.
I need to remember this. I need to want this enough again.