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Friday, December 13, 2013

The Hiatus and the Return to Hell

Since that fateful day in October (aka race day) I have gone down hill, fast.

My inspiration and motivation was gone and my spirit was broken. I was convinced that I was just no good and I wanted to give it all up. I wasn't losing the weight fast enough and those who were once proud of me and encouraging had stopped being so helpful. I continued to run each day but my heart was no longer in it. The depression monster came back and weaved its dark shadows through my very soul and even a new pair of running shoes couldn't take me out of its grasp this time. Not to mention that the weather turned cold very quickly and if you remember how much I hate early morning runs then you'll be happy to know I despise cold runs too!


Thanksgiving day I was scheduled to run another 5K but this time I had not trained properly for it and I was dreading it with a passion. I had gone from running four or five miles at a time, five days a week, to doing intervals only a couple times a week (a mixture of walking and sprinting.) It improved my stamina and time on the distance runs but I couldn't get past this block that I had put up. My brain wouldn't focus on getting the job done and eventually I went from intervals to walking only. Then I just stopped working out all together which killed me because about the time that I would normally go for a run my legs would turn to fire. What doctors call restless leg syndrome.

When my running partner sprained her ankle a couple days before the race I totally used this as my excuse not to go. I also used it as my excuse to not run for the next three weeks as well. I don't regret not going to the race though. That morning it was 19 degrees! OMFG! I regret that I had pretty much given up on myself and was starting to feel guilty. Really guilty, which made it all that much worse, and now I really didn't want to workout any more. That is until I went back to work and an old friend that I hadn't seen or spoken to since October called me up and conned me into asked me nicely to join her at the gym today for something called "bootcamp".

(Side note: I've been to bootcamp and I didn't like it then either!)

I was excited to go but I was also nervous. I was worried that I would be the only Fat Bottom Girl there and I didn't want to make a complete fool of myself. I told myself that if she could do it then I sure as hell could do it too. I showed up at 8:45 am (I know right?! A morning workout?! WTF was I thinking?!) and met her at the door. She greeted me with that shit eating grin of hers and asked me if I was ready.

"Fuck no I'm not....Let's go in, I'm already here." I replied. It was 22 degrees and I just wanted to get indoors.

9 am the workout from hell started. My heart thumped in my chest so hard I was afraid it was going to flop out onto the floor. My legs were burning so much they could've started a forest fire and to top it all off I couldn't breathe. I heaved to suck in air, hoping to get the much needed oxygen to my O2 starved limbs to no avail. I was just going to have to suffer through it or pass the fuck out.

Just then the four foot nothing, beast of a woman barked into her headset to take a break and get some water. Thank God! Glancing at my watch on the way to my water bottle...9:05 am. That was just the warm-up. Sweet baby Jesus I was in for 55 more minutes of this hellish torture.

I made it through with only a couple bumps and bruises. I didn't pass out, I didn't puke, I did do the entire workout, and I did finish it without bitching, not one single time. (I couldn't breathe well enough to bitch or I probably would have.) Five minutes after the workout I signed up for the gym membership and I have dedicated myself to go three days a week and still do a run on the weekends. It's time to get back on track and get back to work! Thanks buddy (you know who you are) for giving me that call!!

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