Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock...

What you waiting

What you waiting
What you waiting for!? 

Thank you, Gwen Stefani, this pretty much hits the nail on the head. So here's the deal:

I'M SCARED.

There it is: honesty, brutal honesty. I'm scared to run again. I'm scared because I love something so much, and I can't have it taken from me again. This sounds dramatic, but here's the deal. Before running, I was a mess. I had just come out of my senior year in high school, after dealing with some intense issues (can't go into it yet, the blog isn't mature enough yet), which cost me my friends, my understanding of the way the world worked, and my knowledge of who I was to begin with. Not to mention, it KILLED my last soccer season, which prior to that had been everything to me. I played for twelve years, and the last memory I have of it is not being able to do what I used to be able to. Not being strong, not having any power in my body and watching my skills deteriorate, hating myself, wondering what was wrong!

So I needed something. I needed a new passion, something that would be mine. Soccer was over for me, swimming was a totally different story, and I was unhappy. Trying to adjust to a new, MUCH BETTER (I have the most amazing friends anyone could ask for) life, and I realized that all through life I had been uncomfortable with my body. I had always been active, but never took a liking to the idea that running was really effective! So I finally told myself to suck it up, because I was NOT about to gain the Freshman 15, thank you very much.

I'm finally tired, it's time for bed. I'll finish this off tomorrow, as it won't save properly.
I'm truly horrible sometimes. I know this isn't the next day, or the day after, or even the day after, but a full THREE days later and I'm finally finishing this up. 
There it is. Honesty and clean: I started running because I was unhappy with both my life and my body. I ran/walked two miles: running everything but crosswalks. I did this every day, and then added more distance so I was running three miles a day, eventually without any walking! 
Somewhere along the line...I fell in love.
My body changed, my mood changed, and my self-respect shot through the roof. It was wonderful! Sure, it was hard. There were days when it just didn't feel anything close to pleasant. But hey, that's love right? I think? Not every day is perfect? Right.


...So that's what I lost for four months. And now, I know I'm okay, but I'm scared to lose that again. I feel like I'm hiding behind Insanity, if that makes sense at all. I use Insanity as an excuse to not run, and it's not like I'm not getting exercise, quite the opposite. But I go to bed thinking about running. I'm just...scared. Clearly I'm healed, and healthy again, because I can do intense plyometric workouts, and I can run a couple miles at a time. It's only fear now, that's really all it is and I know it. Baby steps. Okay, I can do this.


I'm taking the week off of Insanity because I didn't have proper shoes (I know, I know, you think this wouldn't be an issue) for it: I used old running shoes in place of cross-trainers. Bad idea, because my left ankle is now very unhappy. I rolled it at Disney, but haven't had any pain running, just doing plyos. So I think I'll get my butt on the treadmill again :] Let's get rid of this fear k? K.