It was a beautiful day in Ottawa today, the kind of day that makes me want to get outside and soak up the sunshine. It’s also Friday of the May 2-4 long weekend which means that of course I left work early to take advantage of it. I had big plans to get home, get changed, and get out for a run.
I had to stop at the bank on the way home to do the work banking and then I was free for 3.5 glorious sun filled days. I practically floated into the bank, happily planning my evening, when I walked right into the Bake Sale Table. Of course it was for charity. Of course everything was homemade, with love, by the bank staff. I’m at this bank a lot. I know the staff by name, I know about their families, I know who got engaged and who is having a baby. How could I NOT support them by purchasing a few treats.
I don’t eat a lot of sugar. Partially because it’s not what I crave, and partially because when I’m around it, I lose control and over indulge.
So there I am, strolling out of the bank at 2:39 on a Friday afternoon, clutching brownies and chocolate chip cookies. They didn’t stand a fucking chance. I ate two before I was out of the parking lot,and I was brushing crumbs from my lap (okay, tits) long before I got home. As I walked through the door, I had completely bypassed the sugar high and went right to “I need to take off my pants and have a nap”.
When I woke an hour later, I felt like crap.
I wandered around the house aimlessly. The sun was still shining but I was groggy and grumpy. I actively did not want to go for a run anymore. My motivation was gone, ruined by butter and sugar. What could I do?
How do you hear the phrase “what can I do?” Is the emphasis on the I? On the DO? Today I chose to emphasize the CAN. What CAN I do?
I can go for a walk…
I can go for a walk in my favourite work out gear…
I can go for a walk in my favourite work out gear with my headphones and some music.
And just like that, my walk turned into a run.
I went out without any expectations and I ran just a little bit farther than I had in years. I took fewer breaks. I was kind to myself. If the hill was too tough, I focused on what I could do. I could run until the end of the song, or the tree in the distance. I could finish strong.
I’m not the runner I used to be. I’m not setting personal bests or running half marathons, but I’m trying to be nice to myself and to celebrate my successes. I’m embracing the feeling of being fuelled by sunshine. I’m chasing my shadow up steep hills (the skinny bitch has been my running partner for years). I’m trying to maintain decent form and protect my knees. I’m stopping before I hate being out there.
I don’t know how the next run will go, but I hope to keep thinking abut what I can do, instead of what I can’t.