The lack of motivation is tied closely to my depression issues... With the paradox being that the less I feel motivated, the less I do... Then the less I do, the less I feel motivated. It's a lose-lose, and I've fought many battles to pull up out of the death spiral of inactivity. I sit there KNOWING that I should do something.... That it WILL help me... But powerless to actually force myself up and out. Usually a random spark of some kind.... Whether it's inspiration from something I've read, or something Someone else does... That gets me going. Once I feel the amazing rush of adrenaline, I'm heading back up and I feel that old friend of mine return... Determination.
I was excited about this run all day long... Anticipated it... Got nervous occasionally that my motivation would escape and I'd feel like a failure for not going. Or that the run would go horribly and my fragile reemergence in the running world would be crushed. It's amazing how something that makes me feel so strong and empowered has the potential to bring me such misery, too, if I don't perform positively.
I made sure that I had my running clothes on when my husband came home from work.... He knows what that means, it's like a declaration of some kind, and once he's seen me in those clothes I feel like I have to back that up. It's some sort of self-imposed accountability... Even though he doesn't necessarily know that he's a part of that. He's the one person in the world that I'm seriously concerned with pleasing.... I want to make him proud. Even though, deep down, I know that he's proud of me for just being me.... Just existing. To cop out makes me feel weak.... Like a loser. And I always want his respect as a strong, determined woman... For some reason acceptance isn't enough.... It's too passive to satisfy that need in me. I want his earned respect.
So I headed out... Gingerly, as I always do, for the first tenth of a mile, then I began to find my rhythm. It felt great outside.... Starting to thaw out from the utter frigidity of Tuesday night. Energy was good, legs felt strong but a bit fatigued from starting back earlier in the week. I pushed my distance up to 2.5 miles and completed that in 27:45. I'm not pushing the speed... Just going for a brisk but comfortable pace, and running without stopping to walk. Thought about all kinds of things on the run... While I do listen to music, this is my time of solitude. No one wants anything from me... This is my time. I can always feel the solitude crack like wine glass every time I return home.... The cacophony of my household fills my senses... And I'm usually treated to a hero's welcome... Even though I've only been around the neighborhood. Maybe the kids sense that just getting out the door is a battle for me at times... Or they think that their mom is awesome for running... Or that they're just relieved I'm home so they can sit with me on the couch. Whatever the reason, I accept it gratefully.
Running is like renewal of the spark of life within me. Can't wait to see what path I set ablaze.