If it is going to be….
It’s got to come from me.
It seems with life and with 12wbt, or weight loss, or general fitness, or running races… some days are a breeze, some days are an absolute joy and you wonder why everyone isn’t doing what you are doing… And then there are *those* days. The days that bring you to your knees… the days that make you want to give up, wonder why you even thought that you could do this in the beginning. Lately these days have been getting further and further apart for me. I read Angela‘s post recently and although it resonated with me and I completely understood where she was coming from I kind of smiled inwardly, smugly and thought that those days were over for me. Like I thought that I had found the meaning of life or the magic bullet… I’d worked out what it was all about and I wasn’t going to feel like shit again.. ever… My exercise was never going to get difficult, I wasn’t going to drink during the week any more, I’d stopped smoking and I was beginning to feel pretty freaking good about myself.
Of course I was ready for a massive fall.
It’s difficult to get it right all the time. It’s even harder to get all the things right, all of the time. As soon as one little thing goes wrong, all the balls that you have in the air (food, exercise, half-marathon training) everything that you have worked so hard on just to get balls in the air, just come crashing straight back down again.
It seems as though it is twice as hard to get them back in the air again as what it was in the first place. Old habits do indeed die hard. I had been a pack-a-day smoker for 20 years. Yes, 20… in my quiet moments I really do hold my breath a little and pray that my stupidity hasn’t damaged my health beyond repair. However when the time came 8 weeks ago, I took the tablets and I gave up smoking. Just like that. I was fine for weeks and weeks, until something didn’t really go the way that I thought it would, it didn’t go the way that I had worked for, it just didn’t go my way at all. So I had a cigarette. I convinced myself that I wasn’t smoking, just having a cigarette. Fast forward 4 weeks, and I guess I was smoking again. It definitely wasn’t the pack-a-day that I had sustained previously, but smoking is smoking isn’t it? Just like kidding yourself is kidding yourself.
So it’s time to get back on that damn horse again. I started up the tablets again yesterday, I threw the rest of the cigarettes in the bin and today I am just getting back on with it. There is no way that I want to run a half-marathon as a dirty filthy smoker, actually, there is no way that I want to live another day of my life as one.
Take a deep breath…