I want to go run again, but I’ve gotten out of the habit of running every other day and I’m a bit scared to start again. It’s been three spotty weeks.
I want to write again, but the mass of my book remains to be edited and I feel like I can’t write until that’s done.
I want to edit again, but I’m stuck on two characters who are driving me crazy by not opening themselves up to me. I think that I’m itching to write just so I can get away from those two.
I want to…
I want to…
I want to feel in control again. Mere weeks ago I felt on top of the world. In control. In charge. Today I’m back to being unsettled and ill at ease. My willpower is slipping away. My self-worth is fading.
The answer lies in putting on workout pants and lacing up my shoes. It lies in picking a running program and just getting back outside. For a minute I’ll be frustrated and annoyed that I’m not done with the Couch to 5K program like I should be. I’ll be annoyed that I have to backtrack a week or two. Then I’ll find my footing and the pounding of the pavement will shut off the whining in my brain.
I don’t run to prove something to someone. I run to clear my head. I run to stretch my muscles. I run to remind myself that it’s up to me to take control of myself. I am the one who calls the shots. I am the one who decides for me what is right for me.
When I am outside, running in the dark, it’s just me and my body, moving. The pounding of my feet on the pavement calms the chaos in my head. Thoughts emerge. Ideas bloom. Blocks fall apart. I come back feeling peaceful and quiet. The constant buzzing of thoughts, self doubt, self criticism, and everything else that takes up residence in my head, blocking the good that also lies in there is stilled and I feel good about life and everything else again.
I know all this. I’ve always known this.
So why is it always so hard to lace up those shoes?