I can suffer the time on the treadmill only if I can lose myself in limerick-writing mode and stare at my feet in the window. “Hey, that chick in the window is still running! You better not quit! Now what rhymes with salivate?” But yesterday I occupied myself with your predicament, Amy.
I think that people who have high expectations for themselves, combined with occasionally flagging confidence, (me, for example, and maybe you) can easily end up in bed -- miserable, death-wishy and inert at the possibility of less than perfect achievement.
And I think for me, this tends to happen in between having said I will do a thing, and really believing that I can do the thing. It’s a strange tug-of-war between confidence and doubt, because often the confidence ropes you into something HUGE that your doubt later decides is STUPID. But if you were realy stupid and lazy, then you would just be stupid and lazy and you wouldn’t have said you would do this hard thing. You also probably wouldn’t be in bed, depressed. I suspect that happens because you know you can do it. (There’s that mean old confidence, kicking you when you’re down.) But frankly you can’t understand why when that’s the case, you’re not doing it. Loser. (← doubt again)
Anyway I think the solution that your hubbie suggests is a good one. Because you don’t have to run a marathon that way. You only have to run sixteen times. It’s like giving up not running for Lent or something. And success breeds success in these things. However, I do think that after a month of success, you should commit to the marathon, and I think you’ll be able to. Because with enough mental practice and the necessary physical conditioning, the marathon is just one more run that you do because that’s what the schedule says to do.
Until you’re done, of course, and then you’re all, “Look at me. I’m awesome.” And if you’re like me, that will soon give way to, “Eh, it’s not that hard. Anyone could do it.” And then it’s three years later and you find yourself training for another stupid marathon to remind yourself that actually it’s really fucking hard. So I guess what I’m saying is, you can let the doubt tell you that you aren’t that awesome, but you should wait until you’ve proven to lots of other people that you are. Because they’ll remember, even when you don’t.
So that’s my (twenty six point) two cents. Sorry it’s so long. Not very bloggy. By the way, I love your list, Amy. You should cross-post it here so everyone can see.
Despite my complaining, I’ve been keeping to the schedge. (Pronounced skedge, unless you’re a Brit, govenuh.) I printed it out and taped it to my computer, and after each run I put a nice fat sharpie X through the number. It’s starting to look like progress. I hope everyone is feeling capable this week, because you are my pretties, you are. And around the end of week 2 is when I always start to feel a little bit more taut and athletic. I can’t wait.
2 comments:
Erin - You said all those things I have been trying to say for two weeks.
Amy, listen to Erin. She is wise beyond her years (but don't tell her I said so, I only say mean things to Erin and that is how she likes it).
ryan convinced me to celebrate valentines day eve at the cheesecake factory last night (what a sicko) where we spent sixty dollars. i doubt i need to tell you how dollars translate into grams of cheese in that place. taut and athletic seems further away than ever, and consequently even more appealing.
thanks for the non-blogular post. i liked it. i may memorize it and chant it like a mantra while i run three miles in three inches of snow today. because i'm getting sick of limericks. and real sick of snow.
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