The Starting Line
OK, so this blogging thing isn't getting off to a great start considering it's been a month since I last posted. I read so many wonderful, funny, insightful blogs and I always think, "Hmm...I wish I could be that [insert adjective here]" So, instead of being so damn critical, I've decided I need to just write for me.
Starting in February, I found myself in this funk. No, that's too mild of a term. Without meaning to sound dramatic, it was more like a crushing, soul melting, depression. Something I've never experienced before, and never want to experience again. After a few months of messing around with meds--which is a whole 'nother frustrating situation I'll blog about another time--I feel like I'm finally starting to come out of it.
I used to work out several times a week. I was feeling pretty good. Then, when this funk-like thing hit, that stopped. Saturday, I forced myself to go to the gym though. This started the ball rolling! (Treadmill?) Sunday, I went for a 13 mile bike ride, stopped off at the gym, and then rode home. Today, after reading DoctorMama's blog, I went for a run, came home and signed up for a 5K.
Now, this 5K thing probably doesn't seem like a big deal to most runners. I mean, pshh...it's 3 miles! Well, I'm the girl who used to ask for the bathroom everyday during P.E. so I didn't have to run. And when the coach caught onto that, I'd just sneak away from the group. In junior high, I took the F for the 15 minute mile. When my parents forced me to play soccer, I was the goalie, and I insisted I had much more important goalie-girl things to be doing while the rest of the team ran during practice. So, the fact that I've signed up to run. Voluntarily. No one chasing me with a sharp object even. Well, I'm pretty damn proud of myself!
