I figured I would touch base on how my training for my 10k is going.
Two Sundays ago was BAD. I mean bad, bad, bad. I knew from the moment I woke up it wasn't going to be a good run. I didn't want to drive to the park where I meet my dad, I didn't want to put IcyHot on my shins, I didn't want to stretch...
I didn't want to run!
But I did..well, kind of. We started off and of course I kept telling myself "just keep running, Allie.." but it was more of a shuffle than a run or a jog. I was barely picking up my feet. We got past the bridge and there's a hill. I usually walk up said hill and then take back off when there's flat land again. I didn't even want to WALK up that hill. I was done in my head. My dad could obviously tell I was struggling and told me to turn around and he'd meet back up with me. Immediately alligator tears are rolling off my cheeks the whole walk back to my car. I started thinking "poor me".. how I still have at least 40lbs to go, how I just want to eat a pizza, how I want to magically be able to run this 10k and make my dad proud of me and darn it, I just want to fit comfortably in some size 10 jeans! Poor, poor fat me.
I didn't run once that next week.
Until Thursday last week I decided I needed to run again. Then I ran some more.
I guess my point is:
This isn't easy.
When I say "this" I mean weight loss in general. It really, really isn't. I battle myself everyday to eat the right things, drink enough water, track my food. Deep down I think this will always be a fight for me.
I want to be healthy.
I want to have children.
I want to wear cute clothes.
I want to run a 10k with my dad.
And I will keep fighting!