Returning back to standard. I am in the thick of this process and at the moment it feels less than exhilarating. Last nights plans for laps in the pool gave way to burrowing under the covers and all things artichoke. I figured I could cut myself some slack, my shoulder still aches a bit from the goose run-in and 50-degree rainy weather makes a snuggly bed all the more inviting.
Still, I’m not sure what this evening accomplished, rather than a preface to a good nights sleep. I set a lofty goal of exercise, in some form, daily – so pushing it to the side gave me a momentary high of self indulgence and many more hours of low grade guilt. Would it have been that hard to walk the block to the gym and jump in the pool?
I can’t seem to shake the feeling of frustration, of starting from near scratch again, of my aching knee, after I spent weeks upon weeks running countless miles. I consider that without this ‘break’ it’s likely I would not have tried new activities at all thus robbing me of their potential joy and a stronger, more well rounded self.
So, I struggle and try to maintain perspective. 30-mile weeks rarely equaled a panacea. Still, just getting back to a normal schedule and a normal state of mind feels overwhelming. I’m sitting with this feeling for a while and doing my best to get out and about even when my inertia dictates the opposite. The balance I crave cannot be achieved through inactivity, I must get out there if I hope to run another day, another marathon, and re-calibrate my life.