A Letter to Myself when I'm ready to Quit

I saw a post on facebook this morning, "A Letter to My Younger Runner Self." I started to read it but wanted to write my own while I had lots of ideas in my head. That letter was from a Runner, capital R...someone who ran competitively in high school and college. It was only relevant to me in that it inspired me.

So this year, as I embark on taking my body back and kicking those 15 pounds I gained to curb, I need to remind myself that...

* I don't have to be perfect, I just have to be better.

* yes, it does take a certain amount of obsession to get/stay fit...but I need to give myself a break every once in a while.

* I don't need to be afraid of food. A cheat can simply be that, a cheat...not a binge.

* I once ran 3.2 miles in 33 minutes. Less than two years ago. And that I ran nearly two cosnecutive miles a few months ago without really training. It will be hard. Those first consecutive five minutes, consistently, day after day, will be the hardest, but I can do it. 

* I need to remember my running mantra...breathe in for two, out for one.

* I'm still healthier, even with these 15 pounds, than I've been for the majority of my life.

Over the Bridge

One of the things I can't seem to shake is enjoying the process. I look beyond the present and to the finish line. Always.

December, the holidays -- no different. I'm ready for this to be over. Ready to start healthy eating, ready to focus on me, ready to be over the family drama and just be in the 215, far far away from the 315 and the shit that usually ensues when you're one of eight.

I want my routine back. I want the temptations out away. The parties over. The damn Christmas cookies out of my house.

I want, I want, I want.

A lot of bitching for someone who is pretty lucky...relatively healthy, relatively happy, independent, strong, brave. Family, friends, a dog. I am and I have.

But when life gets like this, when I feel myself spiraling out of control, I just need to get to the other side of the bridge. I can't stand the up and down, the back and forth of a couple, good days and then three days of parties.

You would think I would just enjoy the rest of December and know in my heart and in my head that I'm back into my routine in January. But I can't.

I obsess. I think. I rationalize. I focus. I start one day with a healthy breakfast, and then eat eight cookies. I get on the treadmill and run, and then eat more cookies.

I have the best of intentions for Monday. Breakfast and lunch and snacks -- all healthy, all packed for the work day.

I don't have high hopes for the way the day will end. But maybe I'll surprise myself.